The allure of the pain au raisin

So the allure of the milk and raisin pastry.

Well suffice as to say you don't want to know about my hectic and rather boring morning routine.
With exception to the shower, which let's face it, escort + shower = no brainer.
So after all the faffing about on a Tuesday morning, I manage by the grace of divine intervention to get myself to the station, and while waiting on the illustrious 9:19 virgin train, on platform 4, I spy with my keen blue eyes... The coffee shop, now everyone drinks tea/coffee/juice so these little money spinners are placed just perfect, but they also supply fresh cooked pastries.
*drool*

I love pastries, it's one of those fanciful little things that the smell and sight brings back a selection of rather lovely memories.
Hot sweaty sheets, the night before, and the breakfast in the morning...

Anyway digressing again, so every Tuesday morning I treat myself to these naughty, full of calories and all things bad for me, pastries ( ok, ok, I actually buy 3 of them) to devour on the train whilst watching the world fly past, some idilic scenery, some not so idilic scenery.

I find that these naughty little pastries put me in a fine frame of mind.

Is it the sugar content? Probably.

Or is it that the naughty but marvellous memories that come with each bite of these pastries, allows me to remember happy moments caught in time, and makes me feel less stressed about the tube trains and the hubbub that is London, and also gives me some fond memories which put me in a cracking mood for the naughty appointments I'm taking that day.


Either way, I rather enjoy my sinful, temptation on a Tuesday :-)