Dear Parisien Eggs Benedict,

Eggs Benedict

It’s a travesty that all eggs benedict do not come atop a croissant. A crime, actually. La Madeleine must have read my mind because truth is, I’ve been dreaming of a breakfast this perfect since I could speak. Usually, ordering eggs benedict means two out of three things will be good: the egg, the hollandaise sauce, the toast or muffin it comes on. Lucky for me (and the world), La Madeleine gets all three right. The eggs were poached just right, the hollandaise sauce perfectly creamy and lemony, and the croissant…ohhhh the croissant. So flaky. So buttery. It was made for eggs benedict. And this eggs benedict was made for me. If you’re lucky enough to be in the vicinity of this cafe, you can’t get there fast enough. Run to the eggs benedict. Run! And then bring me an order.

Dear Whataburger,

Dear Whataburger,

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I have not lived life until today when I had my way with you. Your spongy bun, fresh veggies, charred patty, and melty melty cheese are perfect beyond compare. My eyes have been opened. My soul transformed. My taste buds bloomed. I do not know how I can continue life after I must leave you Sunday. I will be strong and live my subpar life as best as possible without you by my side.

Love,
A forlorn woman