We had just returned home to Toronto from our trip to Paris this summer (I know, I know, I still have to share those photos with you in a blog post!). We had inhaled scoop after scoop of salted caramel and pink peach Berthillon flavours and these mounds of cloud-like meringues from Carton near my in-laws’ old residence in Paris. We had savoured a beautifully crisped skin of duck confit at Chez Dumonet, where the  potatoes are fried in duck fat, but of course. And on our way home, we had a box of dark chocolate ganache squares to eat on the plane. Poor Turkish Delight was reaching for the chocolates again and again, but all he had was mother’s milk; no sugar for him at that age.Read More