French-ness in Chicago

So here's the switch:
I’m in Chicago. Speaking French. Listening to French. Drinking French wine, and...oh, you know.....just seeing Gérard Depardieu.
nbd. except NOT!
For those of you who don’t know, Gérard Depardieu is just about the most well known and most filmed actor in all of French film history. He’s in a ton of movies, including some American movies (I think I saw The Man in the Iron Mask rerunning on TV once, and he was in that). Known for his big nose. Romance, comedy, drama, mystery, action, he does it all. And I got to see him! I was probably only 30 yards from him, too, which ain’t too shabby. He spoke about how he enjoyed Chicago. The people are very welcoming, there’s beauty. He’s in town for the Chicago Symphony Berlioz special. He told some stories about making movies, talked a bit about the war and making movies about war. “You know, war is good for film,” he said with a chuckle. He did speak a bit in English, but then he would switch back over to French. He seemed very down to earth. Mentioned how Catherine Deneuve was always late when they were filming le dernier métro. This is the film we watched after he spoke. I got a photo, but a very bad one, taken from my iPhone. I don’t think it’s even worth putting up. Why didn’t I have my real camera? Because I didn’t know he would be there! ...or I didn’t believe it until I arrived.
And how did this come about, you may ask?
I joined Alliance Française as soon as I moved to Chicago to keep up with French language and culture. (side note - when I found out that they serve wine at nearly every conversation get-together and event, I was even more inclined to attend!).
The Alliance is hosting a year-long series of Catherine Deneuve films, and so they played le dernier métro when Depardieu was in town. No one knew that he would be at the screening. As a volunteer, I was told he might be there, but it was not confirmed ... and, I mean, come on! it’s Gerard Depardieu! Of course I thought if it “wasn’t confirmed” that he wouldn’t be there. The thing is that they were obviously trying to keep it hush-hush because they didn’t want swarms of Chicagoans seeking out a celebrity sighting. It was mostly club members who attended, or people who are involved in the French community that were willing to pay the $7 to watch a French movie on a Wednesday night. I even talked to a girl who was already inside the doors and paid, and she didn’t even know that he was arriving. They just kept saying, “we will have a very special guest.” Well done. I’ve been pleased with this organization from the moment I joined, everyone is very nice and enthusiastic about languages and culture and things that should be appreciated, ya know?

Well, going along with the French theme, I stepped into a French patisserie last week in the Asian district of Uptown. All along Argyle Street are tapioca smoothie places, Chinese and Vietnamese cuisine, Asian grocery stores ... and then on one corner, there’s a Patisserie, true it's name, Patisserie P! What the?! I noticed it the other day and thought, that surely must be an Asian patisserie, but as I passed there was a little sidewalk chalk board that said “Today’s special: French baguette $1” French baguette?! One dollar!!! At Jewel they’re like $2.25 and that’s the grocery store! Of course, I stopped in the next time I passed. But I wasn’t planning on getting a baguette, I had a taste for a little tart or a French tart or pastry, and I had to get my foot in this place to see what it was all about. There are a lot of Chinese and Japanese people in France who study the language, so I thought maybe it was an Asian person from France?
Exact.
As I walked in, I saw a lot of Asian sweet breads and also things with red bean paste, which I ironically just tried for the first time the weekend before at a friend’s party. I tried this famous ‘red bean paste’ it in a rice ball, which is unlike anything I’ve ever eaten (lie, actually they were a lot like the boiled rice balls I had with my Chinese neighbors in Grenoble, which I liked better). Gooey and....very gooey.
Steering away from the red bean paste items, farther to the left, there were vienoisseries - croissants, pain au chocolat! There were some small tarts and layered chocolate tarts. And there were whole cakes and slices of cake and cupcakes! Cupcakes with beautifully designed frosting that looked like a flower on top, flavors in chocolate, vanilla, and red velvet. $1.75. On the cooking channel, I’ve watched two entire episodes of “Cupcake Wars.” I also have a friend who loves the delicate femininity of cupcakes. I’m not usually a fan, but they’re the new thing ... and they’re not too hard to dislike. I chose vanilla.
As I was paying, I had to ask where the owners were from...I knew they had to have a story. (excuse me while I break to taste my cupcake and pretend to be a “Cupcake Wars” judge)


OK, I’m back. Ohhhh, decedent was that cuppy-cake! MmmMmmMmmmmyyy!
So anyway. I paid for the cupcake and asked where they were from. The lady checking me out said, “China,” just as a man walked out of the back rolling in a tray of baguettes. “This is the owner,” she said in a manner that suggested she’d leave him to tell the story. “Oh, nice to meet you! So you all bake Asian things and French things? How is that?” He said, “well I come from Hong Kong, which is a very international city. And I studied with many French chefs there. When I came here, I continued culinary arts and there is so much French influence in what I was taught.” I liked the mix, “neat,” I said, “I just got back from France and now I’m working not far from here, so I had to stop in!” “Where in France were you?” he asked. I told him the east side, below Alsace. “Oh,” he said. “I was just in France recently myself, too. I was competing there. See, look! There’s my coat from the competition,” he said pointing to a framed chef’s coat mounted on the wall behind me. “Of all the people there, I got second for my category.” “WOW!” I said, shocked. “There were many French people competing. And there’s a picture of a competition from 2003,” he explained, pointing to another framed item on the apparent wall of fame of the small patisserie. “Here’s fresh hard-baked baguettes. Still warm. Straight from the oven and only a dollar.” “Ok, I’ll take one of those,” I said. He agreed that I made the right choice, “you cannot find a baguette for a dollar.” “No!” I said, “you can’t.” The nice Chinese lady handed me the hot baguette. “That’s not my specialty,” he said, “my specialty is vienoisseries, so croissants and such. But I could argue that that might be the best baguette in the country.” I knew right then that I’d have to come back and taste those croissants, and I told him that. Now that I’m writing all this out, it makes the guy sound like some cocky chef. But believe me, it didn’t seem like that - he’s obviously proud of his work and loves what he does. His name is Peter, he gave me one of his cards. I wonder what his Chinese name is. It’s funny, when you go to live in a place like France, you have this vision of stopping in the cafés and taking a sip of espresso, picking up your daily bread, smiling to the baker. But I never did that in France. Honestly, the closest boulangerie to my apartment was too expensive to buy a daily (or even an every-other-daily) baguette or flute, and everything else I tried was good, but not mouthwatering. Plus, baguette gets old after a while ... I was missing my sliced, packaged, American whole wheat. Plus, the best baguette I had in France was in Paris, go figure, in the Jewish quarter. Now that I’m back in America, I suddenly feel like I found a bakery that came into my life. And that’s how it’s supposed to happen, right? The best treasures are found without a predetermined vision.