Hey you, petit quignon de pain (a little chunk of bread),
The roundness of your curves charms me.
Your dress is wrapped in the sun you carry within you.
I can't resist your crispness and richness- I'm going to bite you.
Look at you, fresh out of the bakery, part of you is slightly showing out of the bag as if you are inviting me to bite you.
I have to!
It's not uncommon in France to come across baguettes on the way home already bitten, right? Have you ever thought they were sold like this?
Of course not, they are sold whole baguettes. So why can't most people help it but right away eat the crunchy end part of it? Perhaps doing so is an expression of a deeper phenomenon.
A little snack before the meal, that simple bite of bread on the way home is not gourmandise, nor impatience.
When we bite into "le quignon de pain" right outside of the bakery, it connects us secretly to the past, to childhood, and takes us back to shared meals around delicious bread. It teaches us the traditions of a well-done job, of the love of craftsmanship that is kept alive and transmitted when the baker puts his heart into work. His knowledge and learned skills will be then taught to his children.
In the aroma of this piece of bread in our mouth, the past, and the future rub shoulders.
