It’s hard to think of Paris without conjuring images of chic people in designer ensembles popping in and out of the boutiques on the Champs Elysées. Or perhaps you think of professor types, dodging their way through traffic on vintage bicycles with a baguette peeping out of their knapsack. Maybe you just think of all the Parisian pâtisseries, their alluring displays of vibrant pastries urging you to take them, wrapped carefully in a tiny box, to the nearest park to be eaten while watching children race toy boats in a fountain, a white palace the fitting backdrop to this perfect scene of blissful hedonism, that is, until you realize you forgot to pick up any napkins at the pâtisserie.
As much as Paris brings elegance to mind in theory, I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with the French capital. I love eating everything in sight and walking along the Seine in the summer months as young people populate the riverbank with a bottle of wine in hand. I hate the long lines and the astronomical prices on things like soda (why am I paying 6$ for a coca-cola when my omelette is 10$?). Parisian prices are a harsh reality when you have come from France’s more reasonably priced neighbour across the Pyrenees.
For this week’s Travel from Home article, I decided to bring those wonderful Parisian pâtisseries right to my home in Regina, because when it comes to French pastries, we happen to compete with the masters. Eat your heart out, Paris!
What to Eat
Instagram is where I find out about many new businesses in the Queen City. Having not lived here for so long, it’s hard to keep up with what’s new in Regina. I knew I wanted some macarons for my French week at home, and I’ve had excellent macarons from Le Macaron and Queen City Cakes. However, finding a gorgeous Instagram feed of pâtisseries from a brand new small business in Regina inspired me to try something different, and I’m so glad I did.
Filigree Patisserie : A Taste of Paris on the Prairies recently arrived in Regina and does home delivery. You don’t even have to leave your house to get your Parisian pâtisseries. I usually make my own dishes for the Travel from Home posts, but there is no way I am trying my hand at macarons. I’ll leave that to the professionals. Originally, I had planned to indulgence in nothing but macarons, but looking at those glossy photos of éclairs and a recent favourite, almond croissants, I decided to order an assortment.
Macarons
My first time tasting a macaron was at Galeries Lafayette, the French department store with a gourmet grocer on the top floor. My friend and I wanted to buy a gift for our mutual friend in Seville and we were at a loss, until we found a beautiful display of macarons. The sales person let us try some and we were instantly transformed into fans of this delicacy.
Macarons tend to cause a bit of confusion because we use similar terms for quite different sweets. The English word macaroon refers to a sweet that generally contains coconut and has a slightly grainy texture. In contrast, the French macaron contains no coconut unless it happens to be a coconut-flavoured macaron.
Then, there is the Basque macaron. In some sense the Basque macaron predates the Parisian macaron that we are familiar with today. The Basque macaron is extremely limited in its availability. You won’t find it just anywhere. Basque macarons were invented by Maison Adam in Saint-Jean-de-Luz in 1660 for the wedding of Louis XIV to the Infanta María Teresa of Spain. Having only one standard flavour, they are made of ground almonds and egg whites. They can still be purchased at Maison Adam and other pâtisseries in the French Basque Country, but almost nowhere else! The Basque macarons have always received great reviews when I had visitors try them.
The brightly-coloured Parisian macarons are probably the most famous these days. In the 16th century, Catherine de Medici’s Italian chef brought a recipe for a simple cookie made with almond flour and egg whites to France. (Has anybody else seen Megan Follows portrayal of the scheming Medici Queen? It’s fine, she’ll always be Anne of Green Gables in our hearts.) For several centuries, these macarons remained as plain cookies (for lack of a better term), until the late 19th century when Ladurée Pâtisserie invented the macaron we know and love today by sandwiching these cookies around a filling. Voilà, the macaron was born!
I ordered the Salted Butter Caramel macaron from Filigree and it was marvelous. I love beurre salé, the salted caramel concoction from the Brittany region of France and this macaron had the perfect salty, but sweet creamy filling. The macaron had the exact crunch on the outside and chewy inside I always hope for in a macaron, and I will take our Regina-made macarons over a Ladurée any day of the week. We may not have the ambiance of a Ladurée tea salon, but I do believe the macarons from Filigree are superior to the most famous Parisian macarons in both taste and texture. Sorry, not sorry. I have taste-tested macarons from several well-known Parisian patisseries, not just Ladurée, and I still maintain that you won’t go wrong with a Saskatchewan-made macaron.
Eclairs
I usually end up purchasing some form of choux pastry whenever I’m in France. A religieuse (a small profiterole – cream puff on top of a larger one meant to resemble a nun), or a coffee éclair. I’m usually disappointed because even though they look exceptional, the choux pastry is often dry and the whole thing can be a bit tasteless. Regardless, I fall into the same trap nearly every time because I eat with my eyes.
I was delightfully surprised, therefore, that I loved both éclairs from Filigree. I expected to have a favourite, thinking the chocolate caramel would win the battle. In the end, the raspberry was the victor. It wasn’t just beautiful, the raspberries gave it such a fresh flavour. I absolutely enjoyed both, but if I were forced to choose, and I didn’t have to, I would opt for the raspberry.
Croissants
Croissants are quintessentially French, or so we think. Apparently they actually came from Vienna (sort of like apple pie isn’t really American). Nevertheless, the croissant is ubiquitous in European pastry shops. I had eaten my share of croissants, and even the chocolate croissants, but until I lived in Bilbao, I hadn’t come across an almond croissant. It soon became a favourite.
I regularly stopped in at Bizkarra, a pastry shop just down the street from my apartment in the old town. The choice between a regular croissant and an almond croissant? What choice? It was always the almond croissant for me, whether for a breakfast on the go (so very unBasque of me to eat in the street) or a merienda, mid-afternoon snack.
The almond croissant from Filigree was delicious, as expected. However, it was quite distinct from the almond croissant I was accustomed to in Bilbao. While the almond croissant from Filigree was quite crispy on the outside, the one from Bizkarra was very soft and chewy.
What to Drink
I cannot claim to have discovered Perrier Menthe at a sidewalk café in Paris. However, I think my story is just as good. On one of my trips over the border to the quaint fishing village turned seaside resort town of Saint-Jean-de-Luz, I noticed people all around me drinking a bright green beverage in a tall glass. We were sitting on a terrace in the main square in front of the house where Louis XIV stayed prior to his wedding to the Spanish Infanta. I discussed the drink with my colleagues, asking if they knew what it was. One suggested it might be Izarra, a Basque liqueur that can be green or yellow. I didn’t think this was quite right, so finally I asked the server what everyone was drinking. “Perrier Menthe,” he said. A simple mixture of carbonated Perrier water and mint syrup.
You can certainly buy mint syrup, but I ventured to make my own. Here are the instructions:
2 tsp peppermint extract
1 cup sugar
1 cup water
6 drops green food colouring
Bring water and sugar to a boil and then turn the heat down to medium, keeping the mixture at a simmer. Stir for about 5 minutes and then remove from heat. Add the peppermint oil and food colouring.
This mint syrup won’t be quite as bright green as that purchased in a store, but I hate food colouring. Six drops was as green as I could go.
Add about 20mL of syrup to a tall glass, add Perrier and ice, and stir. Don’t fill it quite full as you may wish to add more mint syrup to taste. I think I had about 30mL in my glass. This may be too sweet for some!
What I Wore for my Parisian Pâtisseries at Home
I believe I have only one article of clothing that was actually purchased in Paris, and I didn’t have it here in Regina anyway. I couldn’t help but stick with the stereotypes of French fashion because there’s something so elegant about this image we have of French women with perfectly poised berets. My beret is actually Basque, purchased at a hat shop in Bilbao. Gorostiaga has been around since 1854. Called txapelas or boínas in the Basque Country, Elosegui is the company that still manufactures this traditional headwear in the village of Tolosa. In the Basque Country, the txapela is worn mostly by older men, form whom the txapela comes in limited colours but multiple sizes and qualities. For women, there are many colours, but only one size and one quality option.
I also wore a vintage Christian Dior scarf, purchased by my mother in the 70s in Tarbes, France. It was a gift for my grandmother. I can’t quite imagine her wearing a Dior scarf on the farm in Saskatchewan, but apparently she loved it and wore it frequently (but not for farm work). I do love all the vintage gems I’ve received over the years from my mother and grandmother, and their relatives as well. No doubt I will have to do a vintage fashion post in the future.
Funny story, the dress was actually purchased as part of a Halloween get-up. Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s was the costume. It wasn’t quite a Givenchy gown, but a black dress never goes out of style!
