Tiny tables of Harvard hangers-on presenting themselves in plein gourmandise for tiny cubes of single-source and overpriced chocolates served on a porcelain square. So much geometry, so little taste.
My “pavé glacé” square of dark choclate is neither frozen or frosted, it’s just in French. And why must such places dust everything with powders? (cocoa in this case, and the croissants are inexplicably showered with confectioners sugar).
The windbag clientele needs to inhale a lot, and so they are choking/coughing, in turns, as the dusted mouthfuls get each of them one by one.