RE-START
OFFICIAL PLAYLIST : “BONJOUR CROISSANT” - LINK
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NO MATTER THE PAST
No matter the past, the beginning is always there for you, without judgment. It's scary to start over when, in reality, we do it every day. It is not possible to be the same person you were a year ago and, to a lesser extent, the same person you were yesterday. Changing, starting over, is our natural state. We invite you to this breakfast and to embrace together the change, the adventure, the breakfast, the almost summer.
With my friend Marina, my oldest friend, we recently visited Mercabañal, in the Cabanyal neighborhood of Valencia. Marina recently has tattooed a butterfly as it symbolizes flying & rebirth, transformation. It seems perfect to start this article with our visit.
Below you will see a collage with images of the Mercabanyal as well as my recent look change.
Croissant, choose a style of food and come with us to our table! Marina is inviting us to ice cream & tea!
Above these lines, in the last images of the gallery, you can see the branding of the place, made in sticker. I liked how plastic and multi product it is (as they are stickers you can put them anywhere) so they create a total branding effect around any corner of the space.
IG LINKS
MERCABANYAL @MERCABANYAL
WEB
FOOD @LITTLETHAI_ES
COFFEE @
ICE CREAM @POPSNBOPS_
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GARDEN IN YOUR PLATE
This plates are a meeting between high fashion, a garden & ceramic. You almost can wear them.
A collaboration between @VAJILLASDEULTRAMAR & well-known fashion designer @JOSEPFONTC
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BONJOUR CROISSANT
I have had two magazines in the form of a blog: VM Magazine & Living For Breakfast. All these years I have referred to you readers as "Croissants" and, without me saying anything, many of you call these magazines as the “Bonjour Croissant", so I think it's best to call the blog that. In new beginnings you have to be brave & take advantage of the wind blowing in your favor. Welcome to your favorite Sunday breakfast, grab a plate & a napkin, this is brunch and it's called:
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BACK TO PARIS, THE BRUNCH
We were thinking of having brunch on the balcony (those who could fit) but today it's raining.
There are 4 of us, sorry, 5, little Marcel always finds his place if there is food. The guests swirl around the marble table, a table like the ones in the cafés. The table is small, everything is small. The coffee pot only stops spitting out coffee when we wait for it to cool down so we can open it to make more.
The cutlery looks like flowers waiting to be assembled in a bouquet, together but chaotic, in the middle of the dishes on the table. The flowers, the real ones, stand tall above the scene. They don't let us see each other, they don't let us take our food comfortably. We are not going to move them.
On the kitchen counter awaits the juice, milk & large plates, on the table the small plates, the avocado, the waffles already served covered with their blanket of grilled egg. The conversation flows, Chloé and Théo are new to the group but it doesn't seem so. S., my best friend in the world, asks me:
- So are we going to see more of you at Paris Vins now?
- Yes - I answer - I can't stand so much sun, when it's not raining I never find it hard to stay indoors.
- I'm glad - S. tells me - I was missing you so much.
Meanwhile Marcel waits for croissant crumbs to fall from the table. He knows that life, a brunch, is just that, waiting for your moment. If you are patient it might fall on its own, if you wait longer you might get it directly & it's not crumbs, it's a crunchy, forbidden horn of croissant. You know, if it is forbidden, the crunchy part tastes better.
