Whether or not the book is correct that French women don’t get fat, quite honestly, every calorie I consumed while in Paris last week was worth it. Every sumptuous bite that was laden with duck fat, sweet French butter, pastry cream or just plain cream was worth every new, one-size-larger pair of jeans I might need to purchase later this week.

And if pictures really are worth a thousand words, I leave you with many thousands unspoken. But as you drool over the never-ending feast of Paris, know that one word does keep coming back to me--more, more, more!