The “Gourmande” Genesis

Do you know what it’s like to walk into a bakery and buy a baguette so fresh and so warm that it nearly breaks in half in your hands?

I didn’t, until I stepped into a little bakery in a small town outside of Paris after a ten-hour flight and a long drive through the windingly magnificent Parisian streets. Maybe it was the haze of leaving on a Saturday afternoon and arriving on a drizzly Sunday morning without a wink of sleep that contributed to the magic of it, but trust me: it was magical.

The baguettes weren’t even the best part. Surrounding me, in the first store in France I had ever been to, was a plethora of beautiful tartes, gâteaux, and pâtisseries. Before I knew what was happening, my generous companions were ordering me a gland, with its classic green icing, and an éclair au café. While we waited, they passed around a bag full of little pastry balls covered in crunchy sugar bits, chouquettes, the likes of which I had never seen before.

This first experience in France set the tone for the next two weeks. Every food and drink I encountered seemed designed to surprise and delight one such as me, from the simple chain croissant café (“nothing special…” I was told), to the Montmartre restaurant in a twinkle-lit square around the corner from the Sacré-Cœur.

Not only did I get to experience dining out, but I was also blessed with the opportunity to stay with my French boyfriend’s family members scattered around central France. Luxurious lunches were followed by sumptuous dinners, and always we could gather for the much-loved apéro, my favourite French tradition. To my delight, his family began to invite me to cook and bake with them. I even impressed grand-mère enough to be promised one of her top-secret recipes! I was honoured.

Now that I have returned home to Canada, I am in mourning, to be so dramatic, for what I left behind in France. Among other things, I miss the effortlessness of finding a wonderful meal. I so strongly crave the quality ingredients and simple, yet delicious dishes. Growing up, I loved to cook and bake alongside my father and my mother, who spent many of her spare minutes researching new recipes to try. She taught me to cut down the sugar in the North American recipes we found and to use authentic ingredients whenever I could.

However, I fell out of practice during university and the stress (and dorm-style living conditions) that came with it. I now wonder how I can go back to my life of takeout and convenience-driven meals. I sob over the prices of good cheese in Canada and long to once again buy a buttery rosette sandwich at some corner cafe for a mere three euros.

But what if I don’t have to give it all up entirely? What if I could scour this city for the ingredients I would need to make these good-quality meals without taking out a second mortgage on the house I don’t have? After a thorough search of the websites of nearby grocery stores and the drafting of some sample meal plans, I have begun to believe there is hope.

Join me on Instagram @vancitygourmande and follow me on my journey to everyday great food, one recipe at a time.