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There was a bottleneck up ahead at the boulangerie. A wrought-iron cart, a more elegant version of the pretzel vendors' on the streets of New York, was posted outside. In addition to croissants and pains au chocolat, it was loaded with flattish ovals of yeasted bread. Some were covered with grated Gruyère cheese and bacon, some with a tangle of caramelized onions and anchovies. The script on the chalkboard sign said Fougasse, which I took to be a type of local focaccia. I leaned toward one toppe
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― Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes
― Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes
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Empadões sit behind the glass, the round, perfectly golden brown pot pies loaded with shredded chicken and green olives.
People usually know what they want when they walk into our bakery. Five loaves of bread. Shrimp empadinhas. Maybe some lunch quentinhas, the warm to-go box filled with couscous and carne de sol.
”
― Salt and Sugar
― Salt and Sugar
