I was in Sancerre for a French course and I'd start every morning with
a trip to the pattiserie. The pain au chocolat tasted ... melty and
wonderful, warm and delicious. Tarte au pomme, tarte au poivre. We
have a deformed version of these in England but, as you say, it's
nothing to do with them.
Roger
On 3/22/07, Anny Ballardini <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Yesterday, before school in the afternoon I passed by a German backery here
> close-by. I was taken by the beauty, variety, colors of what seemed scones
> but different, bigger and puffier as if the white fluted paper cups could
> not contain them. They still make what I used to like when I was a teenager,
> they call them "flames" _fiamma_, that is a sort of cookie-like basis on
> which twisted and ending in pyramidal apex soft chocolate cream is set
> covered by a thin harder layer of chocolate. I had one some time ago, but
> the taste was not the one I could remember, that is why I just look at them
> and think how good they are.
> As I will forever remember a patisserie in Paris, this to honor Martin. We
> bought some salted _they call them pies in England but it has nothing to do
> with them.
>
>
> On 3/22/07, MJ Walker <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> > A delightful way of beginning the morning for me - it sounds perfect to
> > me. Is there a hidden reference to Francis Ponge in the "cream sponges"?
> > He was a poet who wished to give les choses their due.
> > Talking of cake,Gerald Schwarz referred to Proust's madeleine recently
> > as " those little macaroon cookies triggering M. Proust into raptures".
> > Well I'm sure that madeleines are not macaroons, which are made with
> > almonds. They are more like pound cake, fairly tasteless except for the
> > sugar, which is why they are so good to dunk.
> > mj
> >
> > Caleb Cluff wrote:
> >
> > >Red laminex and zinc piping are not our 'chief concerns' here,
> > >here in this kitchen of flies and yellow curling flypaper.
> > >The dead are currants dotted in panettone.
> > >
> > >A Methodist Ladies Cookbook on the bench
> > >relates the dangers of a sadness
> > >at the heart of the cake.
> > >
> > >Who fails a cake?
> > >Who leaves it, sighing, alone in a room at night?
> > >Can the love of a cake be spurned?
> > >
> > >In a corner of the room hums the deep
> > >deep freeze. Cream sponges sleep within,
> > >dreaming of spongy affairs, iced with comfort.
> > >
> > >Majorca, Vic.
> > >21-22/03/07
> > >
> > >
> >
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