Weekend in Paris #6

Savoring edible *and* aesthetic confections.

Weekend in Paris is a bonus series for paid subscribers—it’s one part recap of my off-duty fun as a baking school student, one part dishing about (temporary) expat life. This post is now unlocked for all readers to enjoy. Bienvenue!

J’adore

What goes up must come down! After a fabulous week at school, I woke up on Saturday feeling under the weather.

I cleared my schedule for the day: no long run, no indulgent apéro with classmates. My biggest accomplishment would have to be trudging two blocks to pick up takeout pad Thai from The Crying Tiger.

By Sunday, I was feeling well enough to leave my flat for longer periods of time, first grabbing some replacement Kleenex from Monoprix, then restocking my fridge at the open-air Marché Raspail. So I decided to go one step further and try a more fun outing, one I’d bought tickets for a few weeks earlier.

In today’s letter, you’ll find:

• 🥐 Some tasty research for my class’s final “creativity project,” and

• 👗 A jaw-dropping display of fashion as art.

I decided that a slow, sunny walk to my destination would do the body good, but I didn’t have much fuel in my tank.

It was time for a snack!

Fortunately, an outpost of pastry chef Claire Damon’s Des Gâteaux et du Pain was located conveniently along my route. I’d been meaning to stop by again, this time with the goal of tasting her pain perdu.

Here in Paris, “pain perdu” is what Americans would call French toast: a hot dish served at breakfast or brunch, not an item behind the pastry counter.

But after ordering a pastry version at Mamiche, I became a woman obsessed. Was anyone else soaking brioche dough in custard, then baking it until the exterior resembled burnished gold?! I had to know.

A bit of Internet sleuthing led me back to Des Gâteaux et du Pain, where they describe the process of making their vanilla pain perdu in delicious detail: “Cubes of brioche with mountain butter and organic eggs soaked in vanilla crème brûlée, then baked in the oven.” I mean, yes please.

I wanted to eat every version of this delicacy I could find, but I had a higher purpose beyond mere gluttony: I wanted to recreate it for my boulangerie program’s final “creativity project.”

I would put my own personal twist on the pastry, of course—the word “creativity” is there for a reason—but trying every version in town might help me decide on a few recipe-development parameters.

So when the inimitable Dorie Greenspan wrote about pain perdu recently, I swooned. Apparently, she’s developing her own recipe for the treat based on a recent visit to Mille Et Un (a shop that’s now on my own must-visit list). Their version uses leftover croissants and pain aux raisins, just to make things even more indulgent.

If Ms. Greenspan was bowled over by this treat, that makes it official: there is something extremely inspiring about pain perdu!

Fueled by sugar and recipe-development daydreams, I continued strolling toward my final destination: La Galerie Dior, the most chic museum imaginable.

The line of museum-goers at 11 Rue François 1er looked like they’d just emerged from the front row at Paris Fashion Week. (No joke: it actually was Paris Fashion Week, so this turn of events would’ve been plausible.)

I felt distinctly less elegant in my own makeup-free, masked-up, sweatshirt-clad lewk, but honestly, I was just happy to be there.

I’d bought my ticket three weeks before, when it was frigid outside and I was searching for fun indoorsy things to do. And this museum—an homage to the life and career of Christian Dior, as well as the later years of his eponymous fashion house—was booked up weeks in advance.

Once I got inside and saw the rainbow installation circling its spiral staircase, I understood why.

Still, when I entered the first room of the exhibit, I felt a bit taken aback by the setup. This entry point provided the broad brushstrokes of Dior’s biography (supplemented by lots of gorgeous primary source material, of course), but frankly, I was left with a lot of questions about Dior’s life and career.

But as I moved through the museum, I stopped wanting the place to be something it wasn’t—i.e., some kind of academic treatise on Dior’s work—and started accepting it for what it was: a jaw-dropping, immersive dive into the rarefied world of haute couture, a work of art in and of itself, and a true feast for the senses.

I’ve documented my love of Kodak film in these pages, a love that burst into bloom when I first discovered Richard Avedon’s fashion photography.

So one of my favorite things about La Galerie Dior was how many pieces of Dior couture were in conversation with Peter Lindbergh’s photographs, which adorned the walls and offered life and verve to each gown on display.

If you’re in Paris and love beautiful things, I couldn’t recommend it more highly—whether or not you’re dressed the part.

And with that, it’s back to the (fabulous) grind. I’ll be back with another baking school recap on Friday!

Warmly,
Maddie

Breakfast Club is a newsletter about pastries with a side of personal growth, from an ex-financial planner turned baker. If you savored this edition, click the ❤️ (or share with a friend!) to help new readers discover it—and subscribe to get each letter fresh from the oven.