A Pain Perdu, The Durutti Column

Dawn catches the patrician façades of avenue Montaigne. Beneath the vaulted ceilings of the Galerie, sink into a generously cushioned fauteuil, where the crimson courtyard blinds stand in contrast to the Virginia creeper. With the espresso already ordered, it is time to turn to one of the house’s specialities: its singular pain perdu.

As its caramel-glazed surface meets the smooth porcelain of the plate, brown gives way to red, a subtle echo of the room’s signature colour.

In the mind’s ear, the synths of The Durutti Column’s "Grace" caress the stillness of a morning suspended between blue skies and silky brioche.

Later, another sip of coffee. A forkful of generous kugelhopf from the basket of viennoiseries: an Eastern inflection that gently soothes the palate.