For anyone planning to visit the Rose Bakery I can heartily recommend getting there early. You watch the place wake up, Rose instructs the servers to fill the capacious soup bowls a third of the way, a tall boy annoints a table of dough rounds with sauce and toppings, and the rooms are blissfully empty. You don't really notice the buzz building but suddenly the two seats beside you are the only ones unoccupied and you both rise to let the brunettes squeeze in with all their shopping. After a small salad plate ('small', but containing four generous helping of whatever you'd like to choose from the bowls up front) we decided to relinquish our choice windowside seat to two hovering Swedes and headed across the street for a half-dozen celebratory mini macarons at Arnaud Delmontel's.