CEOs from around the region are in town. Meeting room set up. I.T. standby. Revise agenda. Room reservations. Breakfast prep. Name tags. Cabs & Maps. Lunch catering. Revised agenda again. Cookies for tea break. Dinner reservations + deposit payments. A crazy week in general.
The best way to recuperate is to spend a lazy weekend, loafing on the sofa with a good book (or, in my case, usually several good books) - and a nice cup of Fauchon tea.
I blame Holly Finn. She started it. All because I fell in love with something she wrote:
“For those weary of coffee and couture and in real need of something soothing, the Salon de Thé recently opened at the legendary Fauchon food emporium in Paris, is worth a winter visit. There, on Place de la Madeleine, the emphasis is not on fast-forwarding, either one’s heart rate or one’s fashion status. It’s about stopping – taking a deep breath and a long sip. No matter how rudely random Parisians have treated you that morning you’ll soon feel better about the whole Franco-thing. A slice of Tarte au thé Darjeeling (a specialty of the house) restores confidence not just in your ability to translate, but in the civility of left-seat drivers, all sorts of things … A reminder of the bond between tea and sympathy.”
And so I went out and bought some rather expensive Fauchon Darjeeling teabags. For isn't Fauchon the company that "sold tea to royalty, pastry to politicians, and caviar to movie stars"?
And so I went out and bought some rather expensive Fauchon Darjeeling teabags. For isn't Fauchon the company that "sold tea to royalty, pastry to politicians, and caviar to movie stars"?
