Le Brunch du Dimanche
The French have mastered the art of “Sunday Brunch”. You can feel your life improving with every bite of fresh airy croissant and each sip of café au lait or jus d’orange pressé. Le Brunch du Dimanche often consists of other pastries and breads as well. My personal favorites include spicy chorizo bread, chouquettes, pain au chocolat and an occasional surprise pastry that is chosen simply because it stood out among the other artistic creations.
This particular Sunday my host mom and I took to the streets and walked to a petit and classically French brunch place. The atmosphere is quaint and welcoming. As I sat opposite my host mom (featuring her new leopard print coat) I felt as though I should be sitting with one leg crossed over the other and have my head thrown back in a gay display of laughter. I wanted to purse my lips (adorned with a bold red lipstick for a true French woman knows how to rock the perfect red), wink and exclaim, “C’est la vie, ma cherie!”
As we finished our repas (meal) and paid (buying extra bread for l’après midi aka afternoon because it was just baked in house that morning and you just cannot resist), my host mom used her magical french ways to convince the man working in the bakery to let me behind the counter and into the kitchen. I can’t say I have spent much time in professional kitchens, but I have to imagine that a French bakery is something out of a baker’s dream. There I was standing in my jean jacket and little red backpack like a dumbstruck fifth grader on their first field trip. The culture around bread (which is another post to come in the future) is not something to be messed with. I felt like I was in a NASA control center mixed with an artist's private studio: extreme precision and free-flowing art all in one.
As we parted and began our return to l'appartement, we popped into a charcuterie (butcher’s shop) and picked up one of the scrumptious poulet rôti (rotisserie chicken) dripping with flavor on the spinning spit (the rod on which the meat is skewered).
Après ça we continued on our way, winding through the streets alive with other potential Sunday Brunchers. It felt like the scene out of The Sound of Music when Marie is skipping down the road with her guitar and singing “I Have Confidence”...except I was holding chicken and singing “Le Ciel Le Soleil Et La Mer”. With that, the quintessential "Brunch du Dimanche" was complete.