My Galettes Des Rois Goose Chase!

I love January in Paris because it is Galette des Rois time!  For me, it is something to look forward to that almost makes me forget the inevitable bitter cold wind, grey skies and drizzle.

Those luscious disk shaped mounds of buttery puff pastry so unimaginably crisp and flaky, filled with various pastry creams, are heaven to bite into and definitely one of my very favorite pastries!

Traditionally they are flavoured with frangipane, which is pastry cream and ground almonds, but the sky is the limit in so far as the shapes and variety of fillings.   The top one from Hugo&Victor,  dedicated to actress Catherine Deneuve, has caramelised walnuts.

The ones that I grew up with in Louisiana were a variation of  the Bordelaise galette, iced with Mardi Gras colours, which is a decorated brioche, less popular, but still for sale.

Every year there is tough competition for pastry chefs and bakers to outdo each other, just like they do for Buches des Noel.  Pastry makers are the most artistic of all culinary chefs, so they seem to enjoy dreaming  up variations never seen before, either in taste or shape in hopes of being on the best galettes of Paris lists.

Besides the baker’s union, Best of Paris list, popular publications also list their favourites, that generally sends everyone scurrying about to buy.  Some from the hands of the most famous pastry makers and boutiques, such as Pierre Hermé, Fauchon and Lenotre can command  hefty prices.

Sébastien Gaudard, topped Le Figaro’s list, which isn’t surprising because all of his puff pastries are as divine as he is handsome. I like him too because he often takes his Jack Russell, Hot Dog along with him.

I usually make all of my pastries, including galettes, but in January I allow myself to buy a one now and then from my favorite baker Dominique Saibron.  His galettes are always very acclaimed and listed in the top ten best Galettes des Rois of Paris.

Last Sunday, I wanted to try some other baker’s versions that I thought offered a original twist not seen before. Top on my list was Gontran Cherrier’s galette made with rye flour and filled with pastry cream, flavoured with grapefruit simmered in Campari.

Then there was the Boulangerie Bo offering one filled with Yuzu.  The other I was only interested in photographing because of its “unique” shape.

Those who know me, wouldn’t be surprised by my trekking all over Paris in search of a particular delectable to satisfy my gourmandism.  Be it perfect green beans, a particular fruit, a speciality item, or in this case the most original Galettes des Rois.

Lenôtre came up with some elegant fèves, ceramic medallions from Fragonard, one perfumed with fleur d’orange tucked in their galette.

After a meticulous search and making sure that the boutiques were all going to be open, I set out in total optimism as usual. I could almost taste them as I had been looking forward to doing this for over a week.

In January, you can practically follow your nose as the smell of puff pastry baking in ovens waifs out of almost any bakery.  That smell is almost as good as the taste, and is an indicator of freshness, which must be impeccable.

I started my long trek up by the Pompidou Center on Rue Rambuteau heading east. My first stop was Legay bakery, who says they were the Marais’s first gay bake shop.  Richard Legay(his real name) is a fourth generation baker and  has the distinction of shaping his galette and breads for that matter, in the form of male genitals.

I did not go in, as I would be too embarrassed to say that I was only interested in getting a photograph, not buying.  Despite their risqué shape, they did appear well made and his shop looked busy.

I had planned on taking the bus again for my next stop past the Bastille in the 12 arrondissement, a very long walk indeed.  After feeling chilled waiting around  for the bus, I decided to walk the distance hoping to warm up by the excercise alone.

I dropped down to Rue Rosiers, the oldest street of Paris’s Jewish quarter which was  crowded with tourists as usual.  The line at L’As Du Fallafel was predictably long, as it is considered the best falafel in Paris.

Adorably dressed Hasidim children in white shirts, red ties and long black coats were selling calendars in the street and I regretted not getting a photo of them.

Once I hit Rue Rivoli, I could walk faster heading towards the Bastille. The seagulls were squawking as I crossed over the Arsenal, the pleasure boat port of paris.  I was really looking forward to tasting that Yuzu galette, on the spot.

Boulangerie Bo has one of Paris’s prettiest old windows that all pastry shops use to have.  The painted glass themes were elaborate and quite beautiful, but the art of doing them is dying out unfortunately.

You can imagine my disappointment to be told that the baker has stopped making the Yuzu galettes for some odd reason, and only had the traditional frangipane ones left which I had no interest in buying.

By this time the cold brisk wind had left me feeling rather battered and I decided to take the metro to Montmartre, rather than walk a way to catch a direct bus.  Metro Ledru Rollin should be fairly nearby, so I headed in the direction I thought would take me straight there.

Usually my sense of direction is great, but must have been on a blink as I actually ended up heading away and had to backtrack back, adding some more fatigue to my already somewhat weary cold legs.

The metro felt so warm and snug, that I found myself being lulled into temptation to give up that grapefruit Campari quest and head home, but my gourmand part of me pushed  on.

My orientation failed me again upon exiting Lamarck Caulaincourt.  Montmartre is the highest hill in Paris, so much so,  that there is an elevator to carry you from the subway platform, like at Abbesses to the exit floor or else be resigned to climb countless number of stairs.

Once out, instead of climbing some more stairs up to Rue Caulaincourt, hidden from view, I went down some and had to then circle back up!  All this to finally set my eyes on Gontran Cherrier’s shop, another very cute baker that likes to specialise in  creative confections.

I knew it was a bad sign that there wasn’t even a crumb of galette visible, but who knows maybe they were some  out in the cooling racks in back.  Non, they were all sold!

Disgruntled enough to not even being interested in buying his squid ink bread, which ordinarily I would, I walked back out into the cold that by this time was getting darker outside. Catching bus 68 at Place Clichy,  I at least had hopes that Dominique would still be baking them for the late  crowd, or else I would have to quickly come up with a sunday night dessert.

Getting off at Alesia, I found his bakery filled to brim as usual with customers who never mind waiting in line for his exquisite breads and pastries.  Sure enough to my heart’s delight, I spied several still left for sell.

Instead of the small individual ones I usually buy, I opted for the large one with caramel beurre salé, guaranteed to have a fève and the king cake crown.  It was still warm and so buttery it started to turn the paper packaging transparent.

I think that the element of surprise of who will get the fève  contributes to their popularity, besides all those buttery puff paste crunches and soft almond cream insides. I don’t collect fèves, called a fabophile, but save them for baking my own.

Needles to say, my goose chase for Yuzu and grapefruit Compari may have left me empty handed, but despite the cold, the very long walk never left me disinterested in all the sights passed by.

Paris is definitely a feast for the eyes and even the nose for the most part, especially passing by sidewalk rotisseries turning golden brown plump chickens or the smell of fresh opened oysters of the half shell hoping to beckon you inside.

In decent weather, I can walk for miles and never feel that tired because of all the beauty and distractions.  So it was yesterday when I had to go to the US Embassy to renew my passport.

The bright sunshine added warmth to a perfect winter’s day enough to inspire another very long walk.  I went up the Champs Élysees to get a photo of Lenôtre’s mini palais and then walked down Rue Rivoli all the way to Hotel De Ville, capturing a photo of Sebastien Gaudard’s new chic tea salon, which was closed on Monday.

Getting back to my goose chase, Dominique Saibron saved the day and I ended up warmly rewarded with one of the most delicious galettes to be found in Paris!

To make it even more of a salvation, the fève turned out to be one of the most artistic, that of a painting of brioche.