cream puff heaven

Yesterday, after getting massages (it sounds decadent, I know, but really we were just trying to use up a series of gift certificates before they expired), he said: "Want to go to Beard Papa?"

My response: A resounding yes.

Beard Papa, the birthplace of cream puffs so fabulous they have reached cult status, has been at the top of my must-visit list of restaurants/food shops/bakeries/sources of gastronomical ecstasy since the place opened.

Just walking to Beard Papa is an experience. As you get closer to the door, you start to smell something so wonderful, so delicious -- like someone opened an oven and the Cream Puff Fairy escaped and now she is wrapping her magical cream puff arms around you in an aromatic embrace of fresh-baked goodness.

I ordered two puffs -- a vanilla bean and a chocolate. He ordered pumpkin, which was the flavor of the week.

Then we sat at a little steel table outside and chowed down.

Wow. Amazing. The outside was fluffy, flaky and just barely dusted with powdered sugar. And inside: A light custard -- thicker than typical cream puff filling and so much more flavorful. The puffs were a little messy to eat (they don't skimp on the filling), but so good that I licked every last bit off my fingers. Yum.

And you know the best part? That was just the vanilla puff. I still have the chocolate one. And I'm going to eat it right now.