On an unprecedentedly warm and sunny day for early March, I found my way into Martin’s Place by the scent of freshly baked cakes that filled the air on Pannierstrasse. It was as though the pied piper himself was there, luring me in to satisfy my sugar addiction.
Once inside, I found myself in a state of distress, unable to decide what to try first. I was pressed up against the glass cabinet, ogling all the cakes, tarts, and jars on display. Luckily, Joseph and his wife sensed my dilemma (a problem they must be well accustomed to dealing with) and came to my aid.