The first time I was introduced to the French baguette was on the direct flight from San Francisco to Paris operated by Air France many many years ago. Along with red wine, the mini-size baguette was one thing offered by the stewardess non-stop during the 13-hour trip as a gesture of the celebration of the very first direct flight between these two great cities.
Air France did a great job of impressing us. The plane was full of happy travelers munching the bread and drinking the wine nonstop. I fell in love with the bread. It looked so plain, hard on touch but soft and aromatic when you tear the bread into pieces and put them into your mouth.
We then stayed in a hostel somewhere close to the Bastille in Paris. The breakfast was included, to our surprise since the hotel was so cheap. And more surprising was the breakfast itself. Unlike the American continental style, it was just a fixed two pieces of two-inch cut baguette, one cup of expresso coffee, and a cube of butter. Once again I was surprised not only by how simple but tasty these ingredients were but also because they indeed made us filled with the energy we needed to walk around the city till lunchtime.
We had a total of eight adults and seven kids on the trip. My husband had a long list to visit and he commanded the troop to walk for the most time. I led the moms to invade the closest grocery store we could find and bought baguettes. We followed the hostel kitchen style to cut them into two-inch pieces and put them into our backpacks. Whenever the kids started whining we gave them the baguette pieces to shut them up. It usually worked the magic. These freshly bought baguette pieces in our backpack acted as mental comfort medicine for the Asian moms like ourselves during the daily vigorous walkings to fend our forever but mostly false worries that our kids were not eating enough and might get hungry on the way.
One unusual gastronomy lesson I learned from that trip was I should always bring a small chopping board sheet over whenever I come to the old continent for a tour.
For unexplainable reasons, the baguette in most stores in the States doesn’t taste as good as those in France. They lack that chewiness and fresh aromatic smell of good wheat flour.
I barely buy them at all.
Lately, there was a French bakery opened in Santa Clara city that specializes in various kinds of croissants. It looks interesting, generating a good size of social media sensations. I kept an eye on it but since I am not a big fan of anything too richly made like croissants, I was content just watching it from a distance.
Then, last week, two days before the weekend, they declared that they were introducing a series of artisan kinds of mini baguettes.
1. Salami Walnut Red Wine Baguette (weekend only)🍷🥖
2. Multigrain Baguette🌾🥖
3. Curry Baguette🍛🥖
4. Chorizo Goat Cheese Baguette🐖🐐🥖
5. Chorizo Sundried Tomato Baguette🐷🍅🥖
Intrigued, I drove to the shop yesterday morning only to find the line was overflowed to the outside of more than a dozen people. The store is not small and more like a campus cafeteria. The line was long and nearly ten staff were helping the orders, while there were another ten’ish busy baking. I was surprised to see how crowded it was and I was even more surprised when I finally reached the counter to place an order only to notice a croissant could be priced at nearly $9 a piece!
Who are those people placing orders like each piece costs less than 25 cents?!
But I am here for the baguette. Why don’t they have normal baguettes to sell? Nevertheless, I ordered that “salami walnut cranberry red wine” type among two regular croissants and quickly left as there were even no more empty seats to spare.
I took my first bite in my car. Boy, it tasted so good, and instantly the whole car was full of the earthy fresh bread smell. The walnut and cranberry mixed surprisingly well with the fatty big chunk of the spicy salami. I could instantly tell the salami most likely came from France as well and it did not have the usually too salty and too tight/stuffy taste of the salami you usually taste in the States. It reminds me of the salami I bought in the various stores while traveling in Europe, especially in France or Italy. I could eat those mild but full-of-flavor salamis one bite after another as if I were chewing a sugar cane.
The right amount of red wine enhanced the flavor of the bread flour, which held all the interesting unique texture and taste of the salami, cranberry, and walnuts.
It was such an elevated taste journey of a French baguette. I forgave its high price tag. It was a true savoring indulgence and deserved the five or six dollars I paid.
Viva la baguette, the true French ones.
