The first hours I ever spent in Paris were inside a bustling station after an all night voyage by train. It was during my college days and my budget was extremely limited. I knew just enough French to order a simple breakfast and shortly afterwards the waiter arrived with three or four warm croissants and a frothy, steaming cup of café au lait. The new sights and sounds enthralled me, but paled in comparison to the exquisite pleasure upon my tongue. I recall devouring all the croissants but hopefully refrained from licking the bottom of the cup.

When completely sated, I asked for the bill. After paying, a large percentage of my money for the entire day was spent. (It had not occurred to me to ask the prices beforehand.)

But when I think back to those croissants and café au lait, I almost taste them still.