Monday, October 30, 2017

Of a boulangerie...

Thirza Vallois wrote in her book Around and about Paris, the 13th-20th arrondissements, copyright 1997, "... Another survivor from the past is an antiquated boulangerie at no 105 rue Vercingetorix, on the corner of rue Gregovie, Le Moulin de la Vierge (the Virgin's mill), dating from 1907.  Candy-colored angels float in a candy-blue sky of an optimistic ceiling, while traditional French bread and other appetising savories are on display in the window..."

Judith and I enjoy Mme Vallois' books on Paris.  They are filled with vivid descriptions, histories, and maps that lead a reader-flaneur through very interesting sections of the city.  I remember reading her description of Le Moulin years ago when we still lived in the States.  The boulangerie was just another of the many charming places a person could visit.

The author was talking about a boulangerie that is over in the 14eme arrondissement.  It turns out that rue Vercingetorix is the road I walk on my way to my favorite suds shop, the Bootlegger.  For several years after moving to our present address I would pass the boulangerie and note that, yes indeed, the shop was incredibly charming.  Being intimidated by my lack of language skills I never stopped in to buy something no doubt tasty.

The surrounding buildings are mostly modern highrises, some which overlook the TGV tracks leading south out of Gare Montparnasse.  The area doesn't feel "alive" in the way other parts of town do.  People feel depressed and "out of sorts", if you know what I mean.  Certainly there are shops along the major road to the south, and along certain side streets just north of the area of le Moulin.  This stretch of rue Vercingetorix feels strangely situated, abandoned actually.

I was surprised to see the very French boulangerie that Mme Vallois describes in her book smack in the middle of an immigrant neighborhood.  The area is currently settled by black Africans and a few Algerians.  Perhaps the area was inhabited by the French back in 1907 when the store first opened, and only later did the populations transitioned.  There is practically no other storefront on this stretch of road and the whole thing seems like an anomaly of commerce, culture, and history.

One day as I headed up the street I noticed that the heavy iron shutters had been pulled down and a message had been written on a small piece of paper that was taped to the black cladding.  It read that due to an emergency the shop was temporarily closed.

If there's one thing I've learned in the five short years of living here it is that when a French shop owner writes "temporarily", what they really mean is "forever and ever, amen! and thanks for taking the time to read this message."  Or something to that effect.

Sure enough, for the past two years the black iron cladding has remained firmly pulled down protecting the windows from breakage and the contents of the interior from being vandalized.  Each time I pass on my way to the Bootlegger I think "I should take pictures of this place" before it's too late.  So, on my most recent Beer Run I finally took a camera and snapped a few images.

I now wish I'd made a stronger effort to overcome my French language limitations. I'm sure there was an interesting story to be told about the old boulangerie.

Le Moulin de la Vierge ~ Paris
Le Moulin de la Vierge ~ Paris
Le Moulin de la Vierge ~ Paris
Le Moulin de la Vierge ~ Paris
Le Moulin de la Vierge ~ Paris
Le Moulin de la Vierge ~ Paris

Friday, October 27, 2017

Des peniches font livraison...

France is, of course, the center of all things wine and the fine citizens of Paris consume a fair amount.

A couple hundred years ago just outside the Paris city limits was a vast warehousing district.  It was an area called Bercy.  Much of what was warehoused there was wine, and it arrived from every wine growing region around France by peniche (aka: barge).

France was, and still is, criss-crossed by a network of canals.  All manner of goods were, until the Age of Dinosaur Juice (aka: oil), transported by water.

When Jude and I lived in Hillsboro some twenty plus years ago we watched the series "Barging through France" by Richard Goodwin on PBS.  We distinctly remember an episode where Richard and his friend headed out in a Citroen Amie 6 (2CV derivative) in search the summer's wine.

First they sought out a small wine cask (called a tonneau around these parts).  Then they went wine tasting.  They did this at what was likely one of the last wine fournisseurs in Bercy where they found "a cheeky little bordeaux".  It must've been films sometime in the 1970's or 1980's as not a single warehouse remains active today.  Today nearly all wine delivered to the city comes by gas or diesel powered camion (aka: truck).

One of the nicest experiences this year came when we visited our German friend in the Jura.  She lives several hundred meters from a beautiful canal.  If memory serves, the canal she lives near runs from somewhere in central France to the Rhine River.  It was peaceful and we enjoyed watching the occasional (mostly pleasure) barge pass.  It reminded me of Richard Goodwin's TV show.

Two days ago we went to buy walnuts at our local Bio Coop.  We took the opportunity to forage for wine ahead of our annual Salon des Vignerons Independents.  Just a little something to tide us over until the end of next month.

At the back of the shop was a small table displaying a couple of bottles of wine.  The affiche (label) said something about the transportation of these particular wines being 40 times less polluting than the typical global warming modes of transport. [Note: pre-edit I wrote 40 percent, but no, re-reading the information from Bio Coop it says that transportation by peniche is indeed 40 times less polluting as by camion.]  On closer inspection, the wines were completely bio (organic), no sulfites were added for stabilization (a very good thing when trying avoid headaches that sometimes comes with drinking wine), and the red-stuff had been delivered by peniche.

I like the idea that merchandise is starting to move by water, again.  Two different reds were on offer, one was a merlot and other a grenache, so we picked up one of each.  The prices were very attractive.  We'll report back after we've had a chance to taste them.  We hope it's decent.

Anything we can do to help save the planet has to be a Good Thing(tm), right?


Livraison par peniche ~ Paris Livraison par peniche ~ Paris
Richard Goodwin says in the video that he was up on Montmartre looking for the wine village.  It may be where he found the small cask.  But when I saw the name of the caviste where he had the cask filled with that "cheeky little Bordeaux" I did a little research and found it had a Bercy address.  So I imagine that M. Goodwin found the cask up on Montmartre and then found the wine down next to the Seine.  Both the cask seller and the caviste appear to have closed their respective doors years ago.