Ode to a croissant
Plus, my favorite Dijon boulangeries and a few other Substacks I think you'll enjoy.
Bonjour mes amies,
A slew of you have joined over the past few months, so I thought a brief intro was in order, so Hi! — I’m Sacha. Writer. Francophile. Bread fanatic.
I started A Good Vintage originally to chronicle the journey of turning a long-held dream of living in France into reality. Over the past two years, I’ve also written about the highs and lows of being a woman in mid-life, French destination dispatches, and stranger-in-a-strange land experiences.
I’m also a Gemini, which is why sometimes my posts are fun and whimsical, and other times dark and moody. Don’t blame me, blame the stars.
I won’t bore you with my professional background—you can easily find that. I’m just happy you’re here now, and I hope you’ll stick around.
Sacha
P.S. Whenever you click on the little heart at the top or bottom of a post, an angel gets its wings—C’est vrai.
P.P.S. Are you also a feisty GenX Francophile? An expat? A friend or family member who felt compelled to subscribe? Or did you stumble here by accident? Why not hit the little reply button and tell me about YOU!
Croissant amour
This probably won’t surprise those who read my last post, but I skipped my previous French immersion class in Dijon. I was torn about not going, but the hot weather and the prospect of being humiliated again in front of a bunch of 20-year-olds made the decision easy.
Instead, I embarked on a far more enjoyable adventure: the pursuit of an award-winning croissant. Given the choice between passé composé and an alluring flaky viennoiserie, the pastry will win every time. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to log some steps before a day of writing and an afternoon apéro with a lively crew of expats at the Grande Hôtel La Cloche.
After some research, I set my sights on Du Pain Pour Demain (Bread for Tomorrow), an unassuming boulangerie about a mile from our Airbnb. With a heatwave in full swing, I figured this might be my only chance to sneak in a leisurely walk before the mercury hit “I’m not leaving the house.”
According to Google, there are more than 20 boulangeries artisanales in Dijon’s city center. Not bad for a city of just over 150,000 people. For the uninitiated, artisanal is serious business in France; everything is made on-site, from scratch, often by hand, and always with traditional methods. In other words, nothing arrives frozen on a truck. You want this in a boulangerie, trust me.
Many artisanal bakeries also use organic or Label Rouge (Red Label) flour, which is a prestigious French certification that guarantees superior quality for agricultural products.
Not only is DPPD artisanal, it also has the distinction of winning “Best Bakery in France in 2019” from a popular TV show called, shockingly, La Meilleure Boulangerie de France, which is like the French version of the Great British Bakeoff but with more attitude and rules.
The walk wasn’t particularly scenic, and I nearly got lost because I didn’t realize there are now two Du Pain Pour Demain locations. But once I found the right one, it was love at first sight. Inside were row upon row of crispy, golden beauties calling to me like carb-y sirens from the glass case. All the choices overwhelmed me, including croissant-style “Kiflie’s" filled with raspberry, pistachio, and salted caramel.
Since I’m a traditionalist, I opted for a croissant beurre and a pain au chocolat, the gold standard for any French bakery worth its sel. They were flaky, flavorful, and unapologetically buttery. Made with high-hydration dough and laminated by hand, the delicate outer layer of my pain au chocolate flaked off before I got it out of the bag.
It’s worth mentioning that there are many flabby, mediocre croissants in France, and you can’t always judge one by how it looks. That being said, a deep golden hue, visible layers, a slight sheen, and crispy ends are usually a good sign, and DPPD nailed them all.
Before heading back into the sauna, I added a baguette tradition to my order because porquoi pas? This one was made with levain (natural sourdough starter) and had a dense crumb, an irresistible chew, and a tangy flavor. Worth the steamy walk and the calories.
There are many types of baguettes and you better know which one you want before getting up to the cashier, or you’ll get the stink eye from everyone behind you. For example, the classic baguette made with white flour is the baguette ordinaire (also known as the baguette parisienne or baguette classique). You do not want this one.
Instead, ask for a “tradition,” made with flour, yeast, water, and salt. Simple with a crunchy crust and chewy inside, it’s darn near perfect. If you want one made with whole wheat flour, get a baguette de campagne or baguette rustique. And if you’re just buying one for yourself, ask for a demi baguette, which is about half the size of a regular loaf. Also, no shade if you get a regular-sized one and eat the whole thing. In fact, I say kudos to you.
Sure, this is about my love of bread and pastries, but more than that, it’s about the ritual of walking to the boulangerie, getting to know the nice people who work there, and reveling in a simple pleasure. I know that many of us are hanging on by a thread in this scary and dangerous time, and if a moment of happiness comes via a croissant or baguette, then so be it.
My favorite boulangeries in Dijon
Aux Delices de la Chouette. Don’t miss this darling boulangerie next to Église Notre-Dame de Dijon for giant award-winning gougères.
Boulangerie Bouffon. A teeny bakery just a few blocks from Place de la Libération where you’ll often find a line out the door. My favorite is the Pain méteil made with a blend of semi-whole wheat and whole rye flour.
Tarterie Fine. Beautiful pastries, quiche, sandwiches, and of course, bread, all made under the watchful eye of artisan pastry chef Arnaud Collardot.
Maison Frémont. Gorgeous éclairs, Mille-feuille, Religieuse, tarts, and other classic French pastries, as well as mouth-watering gougères, croissants and other boulangerie fare.
Du Pain Pour Demain. Duh, see above.
Here’s what I’ve enjoyed reading recently:
You Uncultured Swine from Yo! France. An homage to the salty, creamy toast topping that makes life worth living.
For the Love (and hate) of a Language with a Surprising French Twist. “Just when you think you have gotten to the point in your Duolingo practice of hitting that 1000 streak, you find that you actually don’t know shit in the real world.” So true, Lisa, so true.
The Unspoken Rules, from Cheese to the Bise on Franchement. Confused about how to cut cheese in France or what you must say before any meal begins? This post is for you.
Sober Treats – Ice-Cream in Paris. Personally tested and approved creamy delights thanks to Sober Girl in Paris.
How to Learn French and Actually Enjoy It by Morgane Andersson, is an extensive compendium of language learning tools, advice, and resources. I may even try to read Le Petit Prince in French thanks to her.
Making Friends Abroad by Rich Kagan, a newly minted expat will make you laugh and nod in recognition. “Leave your house, laugh at the chaos, say yes to the wine, and don’t trust anyone who says they ‘don’t really do cheese.’ That’s not your person.” I couldn’t agree more.
Final thoughts
This weekend is La Fête de la Musique, a country-wide music celebration and we plan to check out a bunch of live performances, from jazz to rock to probably some incomprehensible French techno music. Who knows, maybe Jason will bust out the guitar and I’ll join him in an impromptu duet. Stranger things have happened.
@Sacha, loved your statement “For those of you who read my last post…”. The very emotions and the class situation you described have kept me away from an immersion course. If I can swing it financially maybe a tutor can get me more comfortable (?) I continue to enjoy your writing from sweaty NYC!
Walked 1200kms across France last year as a fifty something year old woman with calories to burn, but we all know that’s impossible with so many boulangeries to choose from.