I recommend that everyone who is in Paris now go taste the galette des rois at Seurre (22 rue des Martyrs). The pâtisserie is proverbially living on borrowed time. It was supposed to close its doors last December (lost its lease to a supermarket! Just shoot me).
I brought 2 of them to a (marvelous, delicious, noisy) Chowhound dinner last week.
It was pure torture.
We got it, hot, in the morning. I had to smell that hard-drug smell all day, biting my lips blue to prevent self from eating the whole thing, chowhound dinner schmowhound dinner.
(Btw, Soup crowned me queen, who in turn crowned Meg king, or queen consort.)