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| Posted: 09 Feb 2012 11:06 AM PST by Emily Monaco Even before I moved to Paris, I’ve always felt a strong link to France. I’m not of French origin, but for some reason, throughout school French classes, watching French films and finally visiting Paris when I was 10 with my father, I’ve always thought that there was something about the country that was a visceral part of me. We learned about other parts of the former French empire in school — the French Antilles and Haiti — but I never felt the need to visit places like this as much as I did the “hexagon.” I spent three years in France, living here and pretending that I was becoming as much a part of it as I had always felt it was part of me, but at the end of my time as an undergraduate, time ran out before I came up with a plan to stay, and so I crawled back to my native America. At the time, I felt defeated; little did I know that this forced repatriation would help foster my love for the rest of the Francophone world, particularly in America, with Quebec and Louisiana. While in my Spanish classes, we learned just as much about Spain as we did about South America, no French teacher had ever extoled the virtues of the Acadian immigrants from France and their development of completely distinct Francophone societies in America… so, back in the States, I decided to do some research of my own, and I fell in love with what I found. The first heartstring that was pulled was that of the music: a mix of country and folk from chez moi and the French language and words I’d always loved, Cajun music became my new background music. And the more I learned, the more I loved. I loved the joie de vivre in New Orleans, the spirit that allows them to throw a party at the drop of the hat. I loved some of the older French expressions that have made their way into the daily speech of Cajun speakers, phrases that are no longer uttered in France but have been preserved, changed, renewed over the course of four hundred years of independent development. Perhaps more than anything else, a comparison of Carnavale in the two societies shows just how different the two Francophone populations are. I’ve been to Nicois Carnavale before; the city that’s closer to Italy than to Paris takes a cue from its neighbors in Venice for the celebration and parade. It’s a fun day out, a sort of updated version of the Festival des fous that was immortalized in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but it’s nothing like the party that envelops New Orleans. Nice’s Carnavale, like other parades I’ve attended, always leaves me feeling like a bit of an outsider; in New Orleans, no matter who you are or where you come from, the second you cross into the French Quarter, you’re part of the party. The entire city seems to be covered in streamers and beads in bright colors; the soundrack of the town becomes cries of Laissez les bon temps rouler ! The French know how to have a good time; I’d never say anything to the contrary. The proof is in the pudding, after all; I have returned to the hexagon. But there’s something about New Orleans this time of year, even in their food: while the French choose the pale and demure galette des rois, a puff pastry masterpiece stuffed full of almond paste, Louisiana opts for a buttery brioche covered in icing and multicolored sugars, a cake as bright as their celebration. While both are delicious, just looking at New Orleans’ version reveals the differences in the ways that the two populations celebrate a good time — le bon temps. 3 cups powdered sugar 12 Tbsp. sugar Pour the warm water into a small shallow bowl, and sprinkle yeast and 2 teaspoons sugar into it. Allow the yeast and sugar to rest for three minutes, then mix thoroughly. Set bowl in a warm place for ten minutes, or until yeast bubbles up and mixture almost doubles in volume. Sift 3 1/2 cups flour, 1/2 cup sugar, nutmeg and salt into a large mixing bowl. Form a well in the flour mixutre and add yeast mixture, milk and egg yolks. Use a wooden spoon to combine the ingredients until you have a smooth, sticky mass. Add 8 tablepoons of butter, one tablespoon at a time, to the dough, mixing as thoroughly as you can. If making by hand, you may not be able to mix all the butter in with the spoon. Using some of the remaining cup of flour, flour a clean surface and turn the dough out onto it. Knead the dough as you would bread dough, using the remaining cup of flour, one tablespoon at a time, until the dough is no longer sticky. Knead 10 more minutes, until the dough can be formed into a shiny ball, and is elastic when pulled. Melt one tablespoon of butter in a large bowl at least twice the size of the dough ball. Roll the dough ball in the butter until coated on all sides, then cover with a dishtowel and keep in a warm place until the dough ball doubles (anywhere from 1 1/2 to 3 hours, depending on the temperature of your kitchen.) Turn the rested dough ball out onto a floured surface and punch it down forcefully. Gently stretch it to form a cylinder. Butter a baking sheet with the remaining tablespoon of butter and lie the cylinder down on it in a circular shape, then fold one end over the other to form a full circle. Cover with a dishtowel and allow to rest in a warm place for about an hour. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Brush the eggwash over the dough circle with a pastry brush. Bake the cake in the middle of the oven for about 30 minutes, or until the bread is golden brown on top. Cool on a rack. When the cake is fully cooled, insert the plastic baby into it. Combine the powdered sugar and water to form an icing. Drizzle it over the top of the cake. Combine the sugars and food colorings to have equal amounts of each sugar color, and decorate as you like.
Emily Monaco is native New Yorker, living and writing in Paris since 2007. She loves discovering new places and, of course, their local cuisines! Read about her adventures in food and travel at tomatokumato.com or follow her on Twitter at @emiglia
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