Flavor of the Month: Raspberry-Rose

Spring has sprung in Paris. The weather has changed from cold, gloomy, and rainy to sun-kissed and postcard-perfect, with cherry blossoms a-blooming and birds a-chirping in the early morning hours. I even enjoyed my first lunch on a terrasse today, which made me more than a little homesick for Montreal and its sunny sidewalk dining. (Though it seems la belle province has just begun to see more asphalt than snow on the roads, and al fresco dining is months away.)

The change of seasons in Paris is happily accompanied by small changes on local menus, as vegetables make way for greener options. I’ve recently discovered a new flavor that is not exactly seasonal, but rather symptomatic of my craving for a brighter, fresher palate after a winter of heavy meats and sauces at LCB. As I walked to class on a gorgeous morning last weekend, I sneaked into Pierre Herme to treat myself to a birthday croissant and picked up an interesting-looking treat that became a true revelation: it wasn’t just a plain old heavenly croissant, but rather an other-worldly treat of raspberry-rose-lychee paste piped into a croissant, which was then topped with a light rosewater icing and raspberry flakes. I made the mistake of sampling my breakfast as I walked the rest of the way to school, and it was so astonishingly wonderful that I stopped in my tracks, closed my eyes, and, much to the confusion of passers-by, uttered an audible, “Mmmmmmmmm!” It’s no stranger than what goes on in the metro, I suppose.

Later in the week, I started noticing raspberry-rose flavors everywhere: in the sorbet at Berthillon ice cream shop, in the cocktails at Flute champagne bar, and in the individually-sized Saint Honore cream puff cakes at Laduree bakery. (I had to scope out my competition for the title of Queen of the Cream Puffs. They win.) It’s a marriage made in tastebud heaven: the soft, floral notes of rose are complimented by the tartness of the raspberries, and there’s no cloying sweetness. I’m wary of most rose-flavored candies, desserts, and drinks, which are popular in some Middle Eastern cuisines, because they often taste like soap to me, or like a beloved great-aunt’s potpourri blend. But in this brilliant combination, the acidity of the raspberries neutralizes any perfume-y taste. It's lovely.

And whatever comes in raspberry-rose flavor is normally pink, which always makes me happy.