Oui oui what a pleasant treat! Butter me up or fill me with meat. I'm flaky and feel lighter than air Perfect for breakfast with a foreign flair

I travel in circles like a disk. A clumsy cook may curse me as a risk, For when I'm missing, kitchen drawers they'll frisk. Yet once found, I work swift and brisk, Making things thick and creamy as a bisque. What am I?

I'm a place where you view through the lens of the past. History lovers tend to have a blast. Where art lovers can nurture their inner critic, As they stand before each old painting and relic.

Though water is my closest friend, our time together brings my end.

I hold opinions in place, Secure fortunes to buildings, Deliver the evening's tragedies, And keep climbers from regretting gravity. Some trust me too much before they think. Others trust me because they must. I may steady a nation, A skyscraper, A broadcast, Or a life. Yet my oldest duty Is performed where no road exists. What am I?