After spending the morning at a NPH’s Pediatric Hospital, we were very excited by the prospect of a serendipitous visit to NPH’s bakery. Now let me tell you, during our stay, we ate some fantastic Haitian food. Everything was tasty and the meat was succulent. Honestly, I can’t complain, except on the pretext of being a spoiled Southern brat. Our cooks knew how to salt anything put in front of them (we were told that the average Haitian consumes 8 pounds of salt per year, while the average American consumes only 4). What they didn’t do so much was lather things in sugar and lard. By the end of the week I was ready to brave the questionable unpasteurized ice cream, if it meant gorging myself on a snack composing half the weeks sugar content (of which I had hithero been deprived). When I heard the word “bakery,” I immediately began salivating at the thought of scones, danishes, tarts, cookies, crumbles, you-name-it!
Thus, when we arrived to survey only the empty pavilion in the above picture, I was sincerely hoping that there had been some misdirection. Unfortunately, it was the translation which had been misdirected, and we were visiting a Brick bakery.
While it was not as expected, I still managed to grab a few pictures of my outfit!
Loafers: Antiquing (Estate Sale)
Sunglasses: Urban Outfitters
Locket: Native American store in Athens, GA
Scarf: Antiquing in Southbend