…is ridiculous given the fact that you’re surrounded by really skilled, highly professional bakers. In my neighbourhood, a dozen or so independent boulangers are working night and day to serve you well, producing fantastic baguettes, great pains au levain, boules de campagne, normandines or pains briard, pavés du Marais, you name it. But – try to find a rustic, less refined loaf, something real, gray and not white that goes well with a slice of smoked salmon or what the Germans call Wurst, and you’ll be searching in vain.
What can you do (when in Paris or elsewhere)? Do it yourself. Above, you can see my last masterpiece, finished yesterday, made of spelt flour, yeast, water, some beer (!) and that’s almost it. You’ll find further hints in the recipe section. And you can’t find bread much better than this: it’s yours, it’s romantic, it’s touching, pushing a button somewhere deep inside.