Steaming hot espresso. The first thing I drank in Paris, and I don't even like coffee/espresso/caffeine. My brother, however, thinks French coffee to be quite a worthy endeavor and made demands against the safety of my continued existence conditional upon the consumption of French coffee. So, I drank it (somewhat) happily. The espresso took a sweeping Chuck Norris roundhouse to my brain and cleared away the jet-lag, for awhile... At midnight I fell asleep in the car on the way back from the Eiffel Tower... 7 times. Even time I managed to nearly damage my pretty face in the tiny dashboard of the quaint smart car I would jolt back to life for 90 seconds. I got home and fell into bed. Best. Sleep. Ever.
You'd better like it, too.
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