Thursday, September 1, 2011

Une Tranche d'Histoire

"Tranche" is word in French in English, although its use in English is more limited: I don't think I heard about "tranches" until all the talk cropped up about mortgage-backed securities. But in French, the word "trancher" simply means "to slice;" when you buy a loaf of bread at a boulangerie, the boulangere will ask you "tranche," or "sliced?"

In case you haven't noticed, my bread consumption has considerably increased since I arrived in France. A common sign to see outside of a boulangerie is "Artisan;" these people are experts, and are proud of it. Moreover, boulangeries often specify their specialty: I have seen briocheries, patisseries, viennoiseries, sandwicheries, etc. I interviewed a boulangere for an oral project at the Institute of Touraine, and she told me that she had gone to a two-year professional school in order to learn how to bake. Throughout French history, the standards for bread and bakeries have been high: during the Revolution, one the most common reason for urban mobs forming was the lack of bread, or, in some cases, simply low-quality bread! As I have mentioned before, the starving mob of women who besieged Louis XVI at Versailles referred to him as a "boulangere." To quote Professor Kaplan for just a moment, "when the king became a grain-merchant, that is to say, a monopolist, he was no longer a baker: that, then, was the beginning of a double desecration," both of the royalty, and of the people's daily bread. As Prof. Kaplan has also pointed out, one assignment of the police during the Revolution early years of the 1st Republic was the regulation of bread quality. One of the grievances of the Paris Commune, in fact, was the overwork of workers in boulangeries; in the list of grievances presented in the Musee de Compagnonage, boulangeres are the only tradesmen mentioned specifically.

According to the Avertins, bread has not always been as high in quality as it is now (cessation of war rationing will have that effect), but the French are very proud of their bread. Moreover, when the French speak of "bread," without further specification, they are referring to baguettes: when we Americans speak of bread, we usually mean what the French call pain de mie, or "bread without much crust" (mie = the part of the bread that isn't the crust). "Baguette," in fact, originally referred to the shape of the bread, which was only invented in the early 19th century, circa 1830. "Baguette" describes a long, thin shape; Harry Potter, for instance, wields a baguette magique.

It was in the course of the 19th century that bread baked by professionals replaced home-baked loaves. There are three different theories of the invention of the baguette. The first is that the bakers in Napoleon's army invented the baguette as a means to make rations more transportable: soldiers could tuck a loaf in their pocket, and march with it. This theory, however, is somewhat untenable: thanks to some costume history (hooray!), scholars have realized that the Napoleonic uniforms were completely unfit for carrying bread: not only would the loaves have been awkward to carry, but they would have been completely spoiled by the end of a day's march. The second theory is that the baguette represents a French take on an Austrian invention: in the 1830s, when Viennese bread first arrived in France (it is still widely available today, although I find viennoises as interesting as Wonder Bread). French boulangeres eliminated the milk, ceased to use brewers' yeast, reduced the weight, and transformed the loaves into a real working-class food, which quickly went stale. I can attest to this last fact: I tried to eat a 36-hour-old baguette the other day, and found that it would serve better as a short-range projectile than as a repast! The third and final theory is that there was a great baking-contest in 1830, in which the baguette won first prize. You can find this and more information on Wikipedia.

I'm beginning to learn just a few of the boulangeries around Tours, and I would certainly recommend some over others. There is one boulangerie in particular, which closes at 7:00, that bakes a final batch just around 6:00. Twice, I have been lucky enough to buy a loaf still hot from the oven: delicious with a bit of Camembert!

The chateaux are going to have to wait until Saturday, when I've booked my ticket. Until then, I'll try to keep myself occupied. I just finished the third book in a series of French history which covers the period from the 1789 Revolution to the Fifth Republic (the current government, FYI). It's November, 1799, and General Bonaparte has just seized power from the Directory. We all know what happens next!

~JD

"A mon retour a Paris, j'ai trouve la division dans toutes les autorites et l'accord etabli sur cette seule verite que la Constitution etait a moitie detruit et ne pourait sauver la liberte. Tous les partis sont venus a moi, m'ont confie leurs desseins, devoile leurs secrets et m'ont demande mon appui: j'ai refuse d'etre l'homme d'un parti" [Upon returning to Paris, I found division among all authority, and agreement established only on the truth that the Constitution was half destroyed, and could no longer preserve liberty. All the parties have come to me, have confieded their designs, unveiled their secrets, and have asked my support: I have refused to be the man of any party] ~General Bonaparte, 19 Brumaire, Year VII.

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