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I was trapped in a microcosm of banality. This marked the second or third day in a row I had eaten an Albert Heijn salad for lunch. It was like going on a blind date with a rich chick-too expensive and not enough flavor. As I moved my jaws out of necessity and habit, a colleague of mine began a tale; evident legends of a better tasting, more fulfilling lunch. He began to describe a place he called Le Fournil; an authentic French bakery in Oud-Zuid. He weaved tales of macaroons, chocolate croissants and baguettes so delectable, they literally melted in your mouth. At that point I drooled on my pants leg. I threw the rest of that Albert Heijn salad away and immediately headed to Le Fournil. About an hour following that, I was drooling on myself once again…
Original Article

    I was trapped in a microcosm of banality. This marked the second or third day in a row I had eaten an Albert Heijn salad for lunch. It was like going on a blind date with a rich chick-too expensive and not enough flavor. As I moved my jaws out of necessity and habit, a colleague of mine began a tale; evident legends of a better tasting, more fulfilling lunch. He began to describe a place he called Le Fournil; an authentic French bakery in Oud-Zuid. He weaved tales of macaroons, chocolate croissants and baguettes so delectable, they literally melted in your mouth. At that point I drooled on my pants leg. I threw the rest of that Albert Heijn salad away and immediately headed to Le Fournil. About an hour following that, I was drooling on myself once again…