A Miche is Born...

A link to this video has been posted on The Fresh Loaf a couple of times but I only saw it today. I thought it was too neat not to post it on Farine as well. For a quick recap of who Max Poilâne is, click here. Since my mother now lives close to a Poilâne bakery in the 15h arrondissement of Paris (do click on the link if you have time, it'll take you to a virtual bakery that looks exactly like the one I know), I have had plenty of opportunities over the past few years to sample its miche, currant rye, walnut rye and other baked goods (which, dare I confess it? I find okay but not as overwhelmingly delicious as the Poilâne reputation would lead one to believe) but I have yet to taste a Max Poilâne loaf. I'll put that on my (evergrowing) list of Things to Do in Paris When Visiting My Mom and report back. The Max Poilâne website is under construction but if you go check it out, you'll see a nostalgic rendition of an itinerant baker walking towards a mill alongside his donkey (is it a mule?). The bag on the donkey/mule's back is probably the one where he keeps his firm levain, deeply buried in flour. The picture sent me back to a little look I found at a book fair a couple of years ago, Confessions of a French baker by Peter Mayle and Gerard Auzet. Baker Auzet reminisces about his great-grandfather: "He was a traveling baker, making his way along the backcountry roads from farm to farm and village to village throughout the Luberon with his mule and his cart. By his side was a large jug filled with eau de vie to ward off the chill of the winter mistral, and a generous supply of precious and all-important levain. [...] With his levain and his skill, Great-grandfather Auzet would stop at each farm on his route, and turn the farmer's flour into a batch of bread before moving on to his next call. In villages, he would use the communal oven. Wherever he went, he brought un peu de bonheur, leaving behind him a trail of warm and aromatic kitchens. Not surprisingly, he was a wecome visitor". "Eau de vie" is moonshine and "un peu de bonheur", a little bit of happiness. The jug of moonshine isn't apparent on the Max Poilâne picture but the baker does look happy and, hey, what's not to like when your job is to wander through Provence creating fragrant loaves whereever you go, especially if you are lucky enough to have a donkey or a mule to lug the heavy stuff?