In the U.S., the phrase "white bread" has distinctly pejorative connotations. One thinks of the blandness of suburbia, the insufferable whininess of Zach Braff ... Actually, never mind, one tries - if one is sensible - never to think of the appalling blot on the culture that is Zach Braff.
Not so here in France, home of ze baguette. Here one discovers that white bread is one of life's eternal pleasures. In my neighborhood, the best baguettes are found in the bakery section of the local Monoprix supermarket. There are 4 daily baking times, and if you are lucky, you might just find yourself arriving when a fresh batch is being taken, piping hot, from the oven. So piping hot, in fact, that you have to carry your freshly purchased baguette home under your armpit, to avoid burning your fingers.
Another fine baguette option is available at the rival supermarket down the street. Their baguettes are not made on-site, but are delicious nonetheless. The company that makes them is called "Croustifrance", which - I think you will agree - is a fine name in every respect. In between episodes of slathering on copious amounts of butter and strawberry jam this morning, I noticed, slightly to my chagrin, that Croustifrance is headquartered in Ghent. A town which, last time I checked, is most definitely situated in Belgium.
What gives, Croustifrance? Though your product is no less delicious, this smacks ever so slightly of deception. I feel like I did when I discovered that the "best cheese comes from California cows" ads were all filmed in New Zealand. What ever happened to the concept of truth in advertising?
Today being the first Sunday of the month, it is the day when entrance to all of the Paris museums is free. We were reminded of this fact at least 4 times at school on Friday, and exhorted to be out there early, to beat the clamoring throngs. I find this logic baffling. If ever there was a good reason to stay home from the museums without feeling any guilt, surely the knowledge that each and every one will be thronged to capacity with the huddled, freebie-loving, masses must be considered a valid argument.
I am not a complete sloth, however. I do plan to join some of my more congenial classmates for a trip to the movies later this thundery Paris afternoon. Rumor has it that the film may even be in French.
The attack on super-cute Zach Braff is completely uncalled for. I am glad that the justice has been done and Paris is thundery while we are basking in sunlight on gorgeous, one of the finest ever SF days.
ReplyDeleteI am frankly appalled by this lapse in your otherwise excellent judgement. As you are not the only one to raise the question, however, I have tried to explain my views in greater depth in a subsequent post.
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