I know you’ve gotten very used to seeing books and books only over here, but I thought (and please correct me if I’m wrong…) that you wouldn’t mind a little sweetness, too 😉
Restaurants in Paris remain resolutely closed, though many are doing exciting takeaway options. (Thus far, I must admit, I’ve only visited Clamato for its fish and chips. Er. Twice.)
But pastry shops, dubbed essential businesses (along with hairdressers and bookshops. Guess which one I’m most thrilled by?) remain open, and so I’ve decided to check out some of the best and share my findings with you.
Does that sound awful? Great.
On with the show.
First up, Sucre Coeur, just below the basilica from whence hails its very punny name. The pastries from this little shop had been on my radar for quite some time thanks to Instagram, but it wasn’t until recently that I was able to pay a visit.
The shop is the creation of Marie Dieudonné, who crafts seasonal pastries made with organic ingredients. She uses no artificial colors and offers both vegan and gluten-free options. Unfortunately for this anaphylactic, that means that there were quite a few things I couldn’t try due to the presence of buckwheat, but honestly, it just made it easier to choose: without the buckwheat toppings, I might still be lingering in this diminutive shop attempting to make my choice from the ten pastries that were on offer on my visit.
Instead, it was relatively easy to narrow things down to two.
First up, may I introduce you to Mathieu: a combo of black sesame crisp, bergamot confit and ganache, jasmine tea chantilly cream, tender biscuit (genoise, maybe?), and shortbread base.
Hello, gorgeous.
And yes, this was just as phenomenal as it looked. The black sesame provided a richness and an earthiness that was offset by the bergamot, which lent just the right amount of acidity and bitterness. The chantilly was barely sweetened, if at all (that’s a plus in my book) with a floral flavor that really unites the other elements. Each of the layers (and yes, I did taste them one by one) was delightful on its own, but together, it became a veritable firework of flavor.
But let’s not forget about Lucas!
Atop his shortbread base (yes, it’s the same one – and yes, we’ll get to that), Lucas boasts a cookie ganache, an organic chocolate chantilly cream, and a gluten-free cookie crumble.
There’s a lot of milk chocolate in this pastry, which you’d think I wouldn’t like, but much as I was pleasantly surprised by the milk chocolates at Jacques Genin (which is dangerously close to where I live), the sheer quality of the chocolate in this pastry made it delightfully moreish. The unsweetened cream on top balances out the sweetness of the other layers, and the textural components make Lucas, if not as interesting as Mathieu, wholly delightful. In fact (shock!) while I found Lucas more exciting, Mathieu is the one I’d be prepared to eat all of in one sitting.
(I did not, for I had more to eat.)
The final victim? The gluten-free cookie. Because why not?
Look, here’s the thing about gluten-free baked goods, OK? Not only do they kind of terrify me for 30 minutes immediately following consuming them (see the aforementioned buckwheat allergy), but they’re often kind of… drying? Even when they’re as moist as this cookie is – and holy heck is this cookie moist – there’s something almost tannic about the rice flour so frequently used: like eating a quince or a cider apple. Dieudonné almost nailed it (I didn’t even notice this quality in Mathieu, for example). But in the plain cookie, while the flavors are on-point, the texture is just a teeny bit… wanting. (If you can eat gluten. Which I can. Happily.)
For gluten-free folks, I’d wholeheartedly recommend this cookie. For my next visit? (And yes, there will be a next visit.) I want the parsnip tart, which I was told, quite kindly, I can call in advance and request without the sprinkle of kasha on top.
(Please, people. Stop sprinkling kasha on stuff. Love, your friendly neighborhood anaphylactic.)
Another quick aside, before we depart. I have begun to notice a trend among pâtissiers of settling on one form of pastry and riffing only on flavors. This isn’t a dig so much as it is an observation: in contemporary shops, you won’t see the sheer variety of pâte àchoux éclairs and pâte feuilletée millefeuilles and genoise opéras as you would in a traditional French pâtisserie shop. It certainly forges the way for perfection of the forms you do choose to serve and for a minimalism in the case that, perhaps, encourages people like me to stop from ordering “un de chaque,” but I do tend to wonder, on sugar-fueled wanders, who decided to narrow the focus so much?
Maybe I’ll ask Marie the next time I’m in the 9th.
Sucre Coeur – 12, rue Manuel, 75009