Ritual
The Stories of the Celebration of Love
At Maison Dandoy, we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, but love in all its forms. Because here, love isn’t measured in bouquets of roses, candlelit dinners, or last-minute gifts. It’s everywhere, all the time. In small gestures and big moments. It slips into bursts of laughter, is shared at your fingertips, is crunched as much as it is whispered. And above all, it makes noise.
A crack that sparks a tête-à-tête: a biscuit offered at arm’s length, a crumb lingering on a lip, a glance that says it all.
A boom that shakes up a children’s snack: a hand too eager, a biscuit crumbling into pieces, laughter bursting all around.
A slurp that warms a lifelong friendship: a cup between two hands, memories melting into tea, a biscuit stretching the moment.
This year, love is something you listen to as much as you savour. Come and crunch on these little sweet and tender moments, where you know how they begin, you guess how they’ll end, but the real outcome belongs only to those who live them… often with a playful, sometimes mischievous sound.
Listen to my heart crack
It’s a Friday unlike any other. She arrives on time, cheeks flushed from the cold, carrying something she won’t yet reveal. Behind her back, she hides a Coeur de beurre biscuit, the kind you don’t just give to anyone.
He’s already there, looking relaxed, but his fingers tapping lightly on the table betray his nerves.
They meet with a burst of laughter, their eyes locking as if they had lived this moment a thousand times, yet never tired of it. She lingers standing just a second too long before finally revealing her treasure. A fragile heart, ready to crack—just like him.
The biscuit is shared, love is savoured. Two clean halves, a few stray crumbs. A suspended silence.
They look down at the evidence of their little crime. He, playfully serious. She, with a knowing smile. Too late to put the pieces back together. Might as well eat them.
Grand gestures of love are for little hands too.
In the middle of a snack that’s as delicious as it is chaotic, two children are lost in their creations. Colouring pencils roll, paint spills, and drawings pile up in a joyful mess. Their fingers, smudged in blue, red, and yellow, flit between brushes and biscuits.
Amid this colourful whirlwind, one of the kids, eyes twinkling with excitement, hides a surprise behind their back. A precious find, a Grande Feuille de palmier, waiting for the perfect moment to be revealed. He fidgets, throwing quick glances at his friend, who is still painting, unaware of the secret.
The snack continues, a mix of colours and scattered crumbs. Brushes are dipped, shades are blended, bites are taken in deep thought. And then—caught up in the excitement—one sudden movement...
Everything topples. Crayons roll under the table, paint jars tip over, drawings flutter like autumn leaves. In the midst of the chaos, one thing remains untouched: the large palm leaf biscuit, still hidden, sitting in the centre of the storm as if nothing had happened.
A moment of silence. Then, a knowing look.
— “Is that for me?!” asks one, cheeks still full of crumbs.
The other bursts out laughing and grabs his crispy treasure.
— “It’s for us!”
Laughter echoes, and never mind the mess. Their hands already covered in paint, they turn the biscuit into an edible canvas, stamping it with colour and sugary fingerprints. Soon, nothing remains but two young artists, splattered from head to toe, proud of their improvised masterpiece.
The art of reading the future (and drinking tea)
In a bright little café, two friends sip tea. One of them, slightly nervous, hides a marzipan heart behind her back. A delicate gift, carefully concealed, waiting for the right moment.
The other, her glasses slightly askew, enjoys her tea, oblivious to the little mystery unfolding before her. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she pulls out a deck of cards and improvises a fortune-telling session.
With theatrical flair, she shuffles, cuts, and draws a card with a solemn gesture. She squints, letting suspense build. “A great upheaval is coming...” she whispers in a prophetic tone.
A sip of tea swallowed too quickly. A sudden coughing fit. The cup wobbles. The first friend gasps, her life flashing before her eyes.
The fortune teller suppresses a laugh, tilts her head, pretending to be perplexed.
“That… wasn’t in my cards.”
A pause. Then laughter erupts between them. In the midst of the chaos, the marzipan heart finally appears, offered as a sweet and playful token of friendship.