Pain Rustique

Have I mentioned that I love baguettes? Yes, I like them with cheese, salsa, ripped savagely, sliced diagonally to increase surface area, and especially dipped in extra virgin olive oil. My favorite baguette is at Little T American Baker on Division in PDX. Today I was strolling the commercial drag in Astoria, after delivering a little grassfed meat to the local co-op, when I ran into some friends celebrating their anniversary. They were enthusiastic about an artisan culinary renaissance in that historic town, and mentioned the Blue Scorcher Bakery Cafe. So I thought I would go up there and see about a long skinny.

When I got up to the counter I was greeted by a friendly young longhair with tribal style ear piercings. He saw me looking at the shelf and asked me what I would like. I had sticker shock honestly because these guys wanted three dollars and 75 cents for what they call a baguette rustique. I had already bought the thing in my mind when I walked into the place, so ultimately I was gonna pay the ask. However I wanted to delay what I consider a fleecing. Little T charges like $2.50 or $2.75 max. So I stalled by asking what the difference between a rustic and a regular baguette really is. The clerk didn't know so he called over another guy, in his late 30's, who apparently is in a long term relationship with the dough. He had overheard my question and said that he had a "high dollar" answer. How appropriate, I thought, since I am about to shell out two bits shy of a four spot for a long skinny. Kidding aside, though, his answer proved contrary to my expectations.

Intuitively I would think that "rustic" bread would be produced by an oldschool technique thrown aside and forgotten as progress marched forward and then rediscovered by the present day mavericks who are reviving our culture, but this is not the case. According to the guy, who I will call Rick, French baking technocrats in late 19th standardized bread yeast culture and the classic white baguette was born, with the dough being mixed early in the morning and baked that day. Then some guy in a puffy white hat hit on the idea that if you mixed some dough the day before you added joie de vivre to the bread. But you could only use about 33% yesterday's dough in an extreme case, otherwise the mixture was unstable and prone to catastrophe. I picture Liam Neeson in Darkman with his lab created skingrafts melting off his face at the most inopportune moments, except now the masks are made of chewy delicious white bread rather than synthetic human epidermis. Into this alarming scenario steps the brilliant Dr. Clavell, who perfects a dough that can be mixed the day before in a 50% proportion and retain its stability. All France rejoices. Rick says that the process Clavell discovered a century ago unleashes texture and flavor that'll make you wanna smack your mama. Well, he didn't really say that but vibrant enthusiasm was definitely coming across. Rick pointed out the complex texture of the outer crust of the baguette. "You don't get that with the classic bread dough. It's that appearance that we describe as rustic." So in fact rustic French bread is a later stage of development, rather than a rediscovered folk art.

Am I lucky enough to have a reader in need of a food stylist? I will work for food.