Je veux vivre!

I love bread. When I lived in Paris in my early twenties, one of my very favorite things was the bread: the smell of bread, buying bread, the taste of bread, everything about bread.

(I had a hard time with a lot of other things about living in Paris, but I was young and didn’t know how to appreciate. Don’t judge).

At the time, my best friend rented a room with a lady in the 4th Arrondissement. I use the word “lady” advisedly. She was unfailingly correct, well-put-together, and clear spoken. Her make-up was immaculate, her wardrobe was impeccable at all hours of the day. She had lost her husband to depression early on, and had decided, defiantly, to live on, every day, to really live. “Je veux vivre!” she would say with emphasis. She really was a fantastic human being. We called her Madame.

One day, when we were leaving my friend’s house around 10am, having gotten up late, we ran into Madame on the street. She was coming back from the market, a huge bouquet of flowers under one arm, a bag of vegetables and cheese over the other. And out of that bag you could see the top of a big, fresh, deliciously smelling baguette.

Except the actual top of the baguette was missing. It was in Madame’s hand. Crumbs stuck to her impeccable red lipstick. She was beaming.

I think of this every time I buy a baguette. And I always eat the top of the baguette as I walk home, thinking of Madame.

Je veux vivre!

Life takes conviction. And bread :)