The bread in France, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Peter's sister Ludmilla was just here visiting Nina in Angers. What you need to know is that Ludmilla is a super taster. As a kid all she ate was noodles with ketchup because most everything else offended her, and she still doen't like the taste of wine. "Too sour," she says. But she can taste a soup or a sauce and tell you the ingredients. She has taken apart and put back together some of our favorite foods–from a mango challah we use to get in San Francisco to a better-recipe-than-the-original blueberry-cardamom bread from Elephant Bakery in Portland to a coconut-almond scone she just made up for no good reason.
She says the bread from La Cocagne, the bakery right across the street from Nina's apartment in Angers, is better than any she's ever had, including the days they were stuck in Paris, forced to do emergency bread research.
From the chocolate vienoise to the sugar-encrusted cream puffs without the cream (I don't know what they are really called) to the croissants to the best sour dough baguette ever, I am pretty sure that La Cocange means 'cheap legal drugs'' in French.
Speaking of which, the wine in France, right?
twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?" 
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