There is something truly satisfying about a warm baguette fresh from the boulangerie. They have a secret recipe that allows for a beautifully crunchy exterior but a soft and delicious interior. I barely ever want to make a whole sandwich at home because I'd rather just eat the baguette. And my god, the self-control it takes to not eat the entire thing while you're walking home with it. The crispy lightly floured top of the loaf poking its head out of the paper bag, taunting you with it's I just came out of the oven aroma.
It hits all five of the senses. The sound of the bread ripping open and crunching in your mouth, the freshly baked scent, the satisfaction of ripping a piece off the end to enjoy, and of course the taste. Like heaven in your mouth (if you get the right one). And sight, well, it's a classic symbol of la vie parisienne so I suppose it's just nice to enjoy the image in the windows of bakeries all over the city.
Now, let's talk about finding the right one. This can be quite tricky sometimes. But not to fear, the French enacted a law to protect their bread. It says that traditional baguettes must be kneaded, worked, and cooked on-site, can only contain certain key ingredients, and cannot ever be frozen. Leave it to the French to create a law about the integrity of bread-making.
Now, even though your bread is protected, you can still go wrong purchasing the perfect baguette. First, you have to find the right boulangerie. There are about a dozen within each block (maybe I'm exaggerating, but probably not). Figure out who takes their bread-making seriously, where the locals go, and what kind of options they sell. Now, I say this, but honestly I go to several different bakeries depending on both the day and the time of day. Some have better baguettes, others have better croissants, still others make a better pain au chocolat. There may be a .10 centime difference in price. Some also sell petite baguettes (like a half-sized loaf) which is perfect for me because while I am all too content with consuming an entire baguette, it is a bit unnecessary.
Oh, and the best part? I've yet to spend over €1.15 on any single baguette.
I was inspired to write this post because I just ran out to buy a baguette to go with my tomato soup for dinner, and I was delighted to find that it was, indeed, the perfect baguette. Sometimes I leave with overly crispy ones, bread that's just a bit dried out, good bread that's no longer warm, or just so-so bread for whatever reason (although let's be honest, it's better than any American bread even when it's not the best in France). But tonight, the bread softly crunched beneath my fingers as I picked it up, and I could feel the warmth as I carried it home. On my way up the stairs, I couldn't resist a little bite off the top, and I stopped to enjoy it as if it were an exotic chocolate melting in my mouth.
Have I lost my mind? Possibly. But challenge me again when you've spent enough time in Paris to have a taste of that perfect baguette.
It hits all five of the senses. The sound of the bread ripping open and crunching in your mouth, the freshly baked scent, the satisfaction of ripping a piece off the end to enjoy, and of course the taste. Like heaven in your mouth (if you get the right one). And sight, well, it's a classic symbol of la vie parisienne so I suppose it's just nice to enjoy the image in the windows of bakeries all over the city.
Now, let's talk about finding the right one. This can be quite tricky sometimes. But not to fear, the French enacted a law to protect their bread. It says that traditional baguettes must be kneaded, worked, and cooked on-site, can only contain certain key ingredients, and cannot ever be frozen. Leave it to the French to create a law about the integrity of bread-making.
Now, even though your bread is protected, you can still go wrong purchasing the perfect baguette. First, you have to find the right boulangerie. There are about a dozen within each block (maybe I'm exaggerating, but probably not). Figure out who takes their bread-making seriously, where the locals go, and what kind of options they sell. Now, I say this, but honestly I go to several different bakeries depending on both the day and the time of day. Some have better baguettes, others have better croissants, still others make a better pain au chocolat. There may be a .10 centime difference in price. Some also sell petite baguettes (like a half-sized loaf) which is perfect for me because while I am all too content with consuming an entire baguette, it is a bit unnecessary.
Oh, and the best part? I've yet to spend over €1.15 on any single baguette.
I was inspired to write this post because I just ran out to buy a baguette to go with my tomato soup for dinner, and I was delighted to find that it was, indeed, the perfect baguette. Sometimes I leave with overly crispy ones, bread that's just a bit dried out, good bread that's no longer warm, or just so-so bread for whatever reason (although let's be honest, it's better than any American bread even when it's not the best in France). But tonight, the bread softly crunched beneath my fingers as I picked it up, and I could feel the warmth as I carried it home. On my way up the stairs, I couldn't resist a little bite off the top, and I stopped to enjoy it as if it were an exotic chocolate melting in my mouth.
Have I lost my mind? Possibly. But challenge me again when you've spent enough time in Paris to have a taste of that perfect baguette.
