One of the local bakeries is now making a Pudding Baguette -- 法式布丁包 ('faat sik pou deng baau') -- which I am naturally keen to try. A round baguette bulleke with yellow pudding inside which I'm guessing would go great with a hot caffeinated beverage. They're not quite local in a sense, two San Francisco busrides away, so a bit of a hike.
But a trip out into the avenues is justified.
On the other hand, I am still not ready for anything flavoured with pumpkin or pumpkin spice. And I am overjoyed that none of that sh*! has shown up yet in this apartment or my workplace this year. Or at ANY of the bakeries to which I go.
It has, sadly, shown up on internet pipe smokers forums. There are aficionadoes. Sick puppies. People who delight in ripping the wings off fairies. The seasonal smokers of pumpkin spice pipe tobacco.
Which smells like vomit.
A dear departed friend considered it perfect as an autumnal offering at the tobacco shop at which he worked. It took three years to sell through a ten pound bulk order.
If you want something festive smelling so that your relatives won't hate you during the holidays, go for Samuel Gawith's Firedance Flake, a very well made and totally repulsive over-the-top overripe mango fruitsalad and sweet liqueur concoction on a base of truly exceptional leathery pressed Virginias.
Allegedly blended for a woman.
I bought a tin of it once. Even after diluting the stuff considerably, the smell of Hello Kitty harlot perfume still dominated, and though I gave it the old college try, I couldn't get through the tin. Finally threw out what remained two years later, with no regrets other than pissy cheapskate Dutchman anger that I had wasted my funds on something so berserk.
Good god, what the Bulgarian hedgefund were they thinking?!!!?
They were probably thinking "let's see if the Yanks are crazy enough to buy this". And you know something? They are. Your relatives will totally love you.
They'll want you to stay over till New Year.
Hit of the party.
Christ on a crutch.
Dude.
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