by Noelle Love
Jacques showed up next, calling the girls and Jules to come outside and see what he had found. It turned out that Jacques had a brief stint with a local traveling circus called Le Plus Fou Des Signes, where Jacques was known as the craziest of them all. It wasn’t enough for him to ride just any old giraffe unicycle while carrying several women on his shoulders – he had to construct one that was nearly four times the size, making it impossible to fit inside the tent, which meant the crowd had to venture outside to see the spectacle of Jacques atop a one-wheeled deathtrap over twelve meters tall.
Jacques gave up his circus days after being given a home in Paris by his grandfather who had passed away, deciding it was time to give up the life of a nomad and settle down, although he still remained eccentric, never having fewer than five jobs and spending many of his days dressed up as animals, mimes, and occasionally women in order to get his fill of fun.
No longer officially part of the Le Plus Fou gang, Jacques still had many good friends who were and they were happy to lend him his crazy unicycle for a night, not even bothering to ask him why exactly he needed it knowing all too well that it was going to be for something outrageous.
Jacques leaned the unicycle up against Tali’s apartment roof and climbed to the top making it look impossibly easy. “Who wants up?” Jacques shouted down from atop his perch to the amusement of his friends below who were both amazed and afraid at the feat they were witnessing.
“Are we ready?” Jules asked the group, anxious to put his plan to action. “We’re still waiting on Parc. Where is he?” Margot asked Tali. Tali was worried that Parc wasn’t going to show, that he decided what they were doing was wrong or, worse, that he really wasn’t that into her and had found something better to do. “I don’t know,” Tali replied. “We could start without him.”
“No you couldn’t,” said Parc stepping out of his car, holding a large bag in his hands. Every time he saw Tali he fell for her even more. When she wasn’t around, Parc worried that he had exaggerated her beauty and her kindness in his mind. But upon seeing her he realized that his memory wasn’t too good to be true. In fact, it wasn’t good enough.
“I got it,” Parc said, pulling a giant torch out of the brown bag in his hands. Jacques, who had climbed down from his unicycle for the moment, admired the piece of art in Parc’s hands. “La vache!” Jacques exclaimed. “Where did you find this?”
Apparently Parc’s boss, Mr. Palomer, was quite the collector. He loved spending money on ridiculous and rare finds, nothing common like art or even cars; Mr. Palomer loved old machines, ones that functioned but whose function was no longer functional. One such find was the giant torch used to light the Olympic Torch in the 1928 games held in Amsterdam, the first modern Olympics to reintroduce the tradition of the torch. Mr. Palomer paid a pretty penny for this particular piece, nearly half a million Euros. Parc knew all about the torch because he was the one sent to the auction to bid on the piece. Having won it, Parc returned triumphantly to the office to show his boss, who was, surprisingly, less than thrilled. It turned out that Mr. Palomer only enjoyed the thrill of the hunt; enjoying the feast was far too primal for a man of his class. Parc was ordered to drive the torch to Mr. Palomer’s home and help one of the guards safely store it in the large warehouse filled with hundreds of rare items, none of which Mr. Palomer cared to look at.
The events of that day put a bad taste in Parc’s mouth. He already disliked his boss because he treated other people, including himself, as if they were lesser, which is exactly what they were in Palomer’s mind. But after seeing how his money, money that could help others, was carelessly thrown down the drain, Parc detested him.
Which is why today he had no qualms about sneaking into the warehouse at the back of the Palomer estate, distracting the guard dogs with a pear tart tatin he picked up from the bakery, and stealing the torch. Mr. Palomer would never miss it; he would never even know it was gone as Parc planned to return it as soon as it was done being used.
“What exactly are we using the torch for?” Parc asked, the only one still unaware of the plan to crème brulee the competition. The group just smiled.
“Let’s go,” said Margot, taking Jules by the hand. Jacques helped Zenna on top of his shoulders atop the giant unicycle, the couple taking off ahead of the rest. Tali and Parc trailed behind, not talking, not touching - just enjoying each other’s company on this magically strange Christmas Eve.
Pear Tarte Tatin
Serves 6 (Or 1 pack of hungry dogs)
Ingredients
1 cup flour
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 tablespoons vegetable shortening
3 tablespoons ice water
For the filling
2 ½ pounds pears, peeled, cored, and sliced in half lengthwise
1 lemon, for the juice
1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
Directions
Combine the flour and salt in a large mixing bowl. Use your fingers or a pastry blender to add the butter and shortening to the flour mixture. Add the water 1 tablespoon at a time, kneading until it creates dough. Remove the dough ball out of the bowl and wrap in plastic wrap; set in the refrigerator.
Set your oven’s temperature to 425 degrees F. Set the pear halves on a cutting board flat side down. Leaving the stem-end in tact, slice each pear into 4 long slices. Set the pears in a bowl and combine with the lemon juice and ¼ cup of sugar. Allow the filling mixture to set for 20 minutes.
As the pears set heat the butter in a 9” ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Once the butter melts and in the remaining 1 cup of sugar. Continue cooking until the sugar caramelizes, stirring constantly. Take the skillet off the heat and stir to help it cool.
Drain the juice off of the pears. Set the pears in the skillet with the browned sugar, placing the rounded sides down and the stem-ends towards the center. Fan the pear slices by gently pressing on top of each half.
Remove the dough from the refrigerator and place on a floured work surface. Use a rolling pin to roll the dough into a 10” circle about ¼” thick. Transfer the dough on top of the pears in the skillet, pressing the edge of the dough down inside the skillet to seal the pears in. Remove 4 small pieces of dough from the center of the crust to allow steam to escape. Place the dough-covered skillet in the preheated oven and bake for 25 minutes or until the top of the crust turns golden brown.
Carefully remove the skillet from the oven. Use a baster to transfer excess juice from the side of the pan into a small saucepan. Heat the juice over high heat until it becomes thick.
Set a large serving platter on top of the skillet and quickly invert the tart. Spoon the thickened juice over the tops of the pears. Serve the tart warm.
24
December 25th – “Joyeux Noel!” Margot announced to Zenna and Coty as they walked into the bakery that morning. Coty was ecstatic, holding a silver robot in his hands, the gift from Pere Noel that he received last night. “Did you see?” Tali asked Zenna coming out from the kitchen to give Coty a Christmas hug. A huge crowd had gathered outside Delroy Doux unable to believe their eyes. A large sign hung over the door that read, “Closed For Repairs.” The windows, the doors, the walls were covered in a thick coat of custard and caramelized sugar, making it impossible to open the bakery. Last night’s snow had hardened the delectable shell, worsening the situation and infuriating Delroy and Aubin, who were now missing out on what would have been their biggest day since the Sugar Apocalypse.
“So it worked?” smiled Zenna, setting herself down on the floor next to Coty who was in an intense imaginary fight between his new robot and the evil forces presently marching through the front door. Delroy Doux was going to be closed for at least a few days and the huge crowd who gathered outside thanks to a front-page story in the morning’s newspaper was growing hungrier by the moment. In anticipation to the mad rush that was seemingly inevitab
le, the girls double-checked their displays, making sure everything looked perfect; they didn’t just need customers today – they needed to win them back for good.
But the crowd didn’t come. Peeking out the window Margot saw that the massive group of cold Parisians was starting to disperse, sadly making their way home, forgetting all about the cute bakery that was just a few steps away. “Fuck,” muttered Margot, realizing that their grand plan was flawed. Just because DD was closed and tons of people were outside didn’t mean they were going to magically remember that there was an even better bakery across the street. “All we did was piss off Paris,” Margot said to Zenna, realizing that today really could be their last day in the bakery.
“What’s that smell?” asked Zenna who had just caught the scent of sweet cherries and fresh pastry.
“Tali,” said Margot, heading to the back with her friend.
“That smells incredible,” Margot said to Tali looking over her shoulder at the Cherry Clafoutis she was busy preparing.
“Look!” said Zenna pointing to the air above Tali’s head.
The cherries were bursting right before their eyes, each one exploding into thousands of tiny hearts that were floating into the air, filling the kitchen.
“Quick,” Margot shouted at Zenna, “open the front doors and let them out. People need to see!”
Zenna ran to the front, leading the charge of millions of cherry-red hearts that danced through the front of the bakery and out into the winter sky. The hearts smelled deliciously ripe, intoxicating the thousands of people making their way home.
“How is this happening?” Zenna asked running back to the kitchen only to see more and more hearts filling the air. “She’s in love,” said Margot, now finally realizing that true love not only existed, it was more powerful than she ever knew. Margot and Zenna began stirring more batter for the Clafoutis, adding more hearts to the city of Paris, both being madly in love themselves. Coty ran into the kitchen, delighted at the sight. “Mommy!” he exclaimed, “There are a lot of people outside. I think they’re hungry.” The women gave each other an excited look – this was it.
A line formed outside the bakery and grew all morning and afternoon, as more and more people smelled the love that was flying out of The Two Macarons. Margot, Zenna, and Tali had never seen their bakery so busy. Busy enough, Margot thought, to save the bakery.
As Zenna and Margot tended to the customers in front, Tali was furiously baking in the back. Everything she made that Christmas Day was perfect because her mind was drunk on the thought of Parc. And when food is baked with love there is nothing in the world that can beat the taste and the growing line of people out front were agreeing.
“Joyeux Noel,” a voice whispered into Tali’s ear, sending goose bumps down her neck. “I just had to see you,” said Parc, moving in dangerously close.
“Hi,” said Tali shyly, looking up at him from her vulnerable position against the counter. Without another word Parc put his arms around Tali’s waist and kissed her. Never in history had there been a kiss so passionate and perfect. Sparks flew wildly throughout the kitchen, igniting small fires on nearby towels and paper bags.
The crowd outside stepped back from the bakery upon hearing loud noises coming from inside. Unable to figure out what was going on, several people in line stepped across the street to get a better view from beneath the Eiffel Tower. Under the legs of tower the small group of people began to see fireworks exploding over the bakery. Upon hearing the exuberant shouts of people across the street, the whole line began to move to see the show. Unbeknownst to the passionate couple in the kitchen, their sparks had turned into fireworks, a display that would last all evening and through the night to the delight of the thousands of people who come to witness the spectacle, and taste the food, that historical Christmas Day.
Cherry Clafoutis
Serves 8
Ingredients
4 eggs, separated
2/3 cup granulated sugar
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 ¼ cup heavy cream
½ teaspoon sea salt
1 ½ pounds fresh cherries, pitted
½ teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest
Directions
Set your oven’s temperature to 375 degrees F. Prepare an 8x10” baking dish by buttering; set aside.
Place the egg yolks and 1/3 cup of the sugar in a large mixing bowl and beat with an electric mixer on medium-high for 6 to 8 minutes or until ribbons begin to form. Next add the flour, vanilla extract, and heavy cream. Adjust your mixer’s speed to low and keep beating until everything is well combined.
In a separate smaller bowl beat the egg whites and salt with a whisk. Pour the beaten egg whites into the batter and beat with the electric mixer on low speed for 1 to 2 minutes.
Set the empty greased baking dish in the preheated oven for 5 minutes.
In a clean bowl combine the cherries, remaining 1/3 cup of sugar, and the lemon zest; gently stir to combine. Take the empty pan out of the oven and pour the cherries into the bottom. Cover the cherries with the bottom, smoothing the top with a spatula if necessary. Bake the Clafoutis in the oven for about 30 minutes or until the middle is set.
25
The crowd stayed to watch the fireworks all night, clearing out the bakery of its just-made pastries and desserts every hour. The people were mesmerized by the colorful display and drunken with the love that was exploding from The Two Macarons. So enthralled, the massive group stayed all night in the square under the Eiffel Tower, forming another line in front of the bakery hours before it was scheduled to open, waiting to get their hands on the buttery palmiers Tali and Zenna were busy making in the back.
The love the two were pouring into the palmiers’ puff pastry was a million times more powerful than the money that had been poured into Delroy’s bakery across the street. Even though Delroy Doux was scheduled to open tomorrow (their crème brulee sabotage not as hard to clean up as they had hoped), the French Hens knew that very few of their old customers would return to the competition’s store.
They had gained a powerful following in the last day, the romantics of Paris learning how to once again embrace their indulgent sides. The Two Macarons had become the hot spot in Paris, and the money that they had made in a short 36 hours was plenty to keep Delroy and his new partner in crime, Aubin, at arm’s length.
Petit Palmiers
Serves 8
Ingredients
1 sheet frozen puff pastry
½ cup light brown sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Granulated sugar, for topping
Directions
Carefully unroll the sheet of puff pastry out on a flat work surface. Place a towel over it to keep it moist while thawing until it can be worked with (completely thawed and pliable).
When the pastry is ready, sprinkle the top with the brown sugar to create a thick layer. Use a rolling pin to press the sugar into the dough more. Tightly roll one edge of the pastry to the center, followed by the opposite edge, making the heart-like palmier shape. Cover the rolled dough in plastic wrap and set in the refrigerator for 25 minutes.
Set your oven’s temperature to 425 degrees F.
Once the dough is chilled, unwrap and set on the counter. Use a sharp serrated knife to slice the dough into cookies about 1/3” thick. Cover your baking sheets with parchment paper and set the cookies on top leaving 2” of space between each. Use the bottom of a small plate or cup to gently flatten the top of each cookie. Use a pastry brush to brush the top of each with the melted butter, sprinkling a bit of granulated sugar on top. Place the cookies in the preheated oven and bake for about 20 minutes or until they become golden brown.
Allow the cookies to cool for 10 minutes on the baking sheets before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.
26
December 26th – The man in the suit returned later that morning, fighting his way
through the people that had congregated in front of the bakery, waiting for their turn to taste what all of Paris had been buzzing about. Margot gladly handed him the rent that was due to Mr. Tasse and Mr. Guillory, which he accepted smugly. “Oh,” said Margot as the man turned to leave, “Tell Aubin he can fuck himself.”
As his mom and her friends were busy tending to the customers that continued to stream through the door, Coty decided it was the perfect time to set his plan to introduce Oralie to his friend Basile, who had been brought to the front of the line earlier so that he could get his seat at his table. Even though the bakery was crowded now, there would always be room for Basile.
Coty saw the old woman and her two grandchildren enter the bakery just moments ago. They were still in line, waiting till it was their turn to place their order. Now was his chance. Now or never, he told himself. Coty snuck behind the counter and took a couple pieces of the Quatre-Quart that was cooling on top. Sneaking along the ground undetected at knee-height, Coty approached Oralie’s grandchildren, enticing them to come with him and enjoy a piece of the warm cake that happened to be in his hand.
Happy to bypass the line, Oralie’s grandchildren, Aveline and Jasper, followed Coty under a table that was situated just before Basile’s. Aveline and Jasper enjoyed their cake, asking Coty all about what he got for Christmas. But Coty, who was focused in carrying out his plan perfectly, didn’t answer. He reached out from under the table and grabbed Basile’s cane, pulling it in close. Aveline and Jasper had stopped talking; this little boy with the cake was up to something. Curious, they peered out from under the table over Coty’s shoulders. Coty was staring intently at the shoes of the people who passed, waiting for a pair of brown riding boots with a looped leather pattern to walk by.
