One Whole Clove

Visions of Pipolinka

[A loaf of Pipolinka]

The townspeople, deprived of Pipolinka patented bread all winter, pined for their own super dense, nutty bites  with heightened effects only the golden goodness of honey could achieve about the surface area.  It wasn't until I ventured into the whimsical outreaches of Wakefield, Quebec post spring thaw, did I discover the puff and production of our packed, rich loaves we so hankered for.   This new, organic bakery was simple and to the point in their charming moniker:

The Old World/Vieux Monde loaf was the inspiration and while they are much too small to distribute regionally, they are now operational from home base.  Owners Philippe and Kalina were spirited by feedback from their creation of Pipolinka bread (a former staple at our health food store).  In an effort to deliver quality goods to an enthusiastic clientele, they created more of the same organic goodies and showcased their wares at storefront.   Among some of the more ambitious efforts and worthy mentionables, veggie tourtière packaged in cupcake frou, oval ciabattas, creamy cashew wraps, ginger beings and other organic chocolaty cakes, bars and bonbons. 

While Philippe operated the ear splitting, cacophonous bread slicer, I yelled for an additional order of loves bites and one black bean empanada.  The empanada would be my supper for that evening, a pairing of chocolate and chili, the stuffed pastry was at the expected level of heat but the healthy hippie hug of kale was slightly overpowering. 

[Black Bean Empanada with Chocolate and Chili]

Love bites were a date and dried fruit combination, blissfully rolled in desicated coconut.  This was the perfect pick-up up.  Something I can totally dig and get hung up on over and over again.

[Love Bites]

And of course there was the Old World/Vieux Monde bread, organic sourdough with spelt, rye, flax and sunflower seeds, a half order was served hot and freshly cut.

Coincidentally, the book store in town was going bust, selling books at $1 a piece and finally throwing boxes out the door for free.  The most prominent duplicates and obvious losers were Atkins and the like.  No one was taking a second glance because carbs are back in with a whole new emphasis on the enjoyment of life!

Darkest, densest pumpernickel generously primped in organic Morello cherry jam are assigned to my workday mornings, pale, buttery crumpets on a Saturday afternoon but Sunday, oh, my Sundays are now devoted to Pipolinka's Old World and the honey that visits there (hehe!)

La Vieille Alliance, the Aftermath

[La Vieille Alliance, after]

The sirens from the trucks cut through the dimday but no one would have presupposed their destination.  Families continued to stir their supper pots and cut their fresh baked bakery baguette with quiet innocence. In the usual Monday afternoon doldrums, a few citizens of town may have strolled along Principale and come to the realization, it was La Vieille Alliance that was in flames...again!

My phone started to ring at quarter to six at which point I had yet to be au courant with the ill-fated news.  In my after work languor, I collected my failing energy to answer the call. 

"La Vieille Alliance is in flames...again."

I felt my heart slump.  The news was implausible.  There was only so much adversity one could face in a lifetime, I thought to myself.  In the spring of 2005, the bakery encountered misfortune as one of several shops who fell victim to arson.  With resolution and patronage, the owners set up their storefront in an old heritage building known to locals as Danny's Bar-B-Q, during the late fall of 2005. 

And now this...

[La Vieille Alliance, side view]

I wrote a review of their second endeavor back in January 2006.  It wasn't until April 20, 2007, ten days before the ruin of flames and water damage, I received an e-mail from owners Frances and Bruno who had come across my piece.  In my detection of her accent alone, I, a former languages major and college drop-out decided Frances was Irish.  To my pleasure she corrected my delusion and provided me with a bit of background information.

"...I’m only half-Irish and really consider myself Scottish...La Vieille Alliance is the name of an agreement between France and Scotland that dates from the ‘year of our Lord 1295’ and we chose the name to represent our origins..."

On the night of April 30, I sat at my computer unable to work.  My head felt heavy from the days events. I resolved to write to our local paper and advance an excerpt to Frances and Bruno. 

 "The Auld Alliance is a story of reoccurring defeat as much as it holds onto a history of perseverance. Like the Scottish and French before them, La Vieille Alliance, the bakery, as it is so named, took one romantic notion merging two separate entities to withstand adversity.  In the cusp of a quaint-town,  their sweet determination, detectable in their Chantilly chouxs and lemon tartelettes left patrons enchanted. If there is some semblance to the small town of which I speak, I implore us all to do what we can in restoring faith in the hearts that have lost once again on this night."

I never took chances.  I was a person who let life pass me by for way too many years.  Now I am older and maybe wiser.  While there is a certain comfort in watching the world progress in routine silence, pursuing risks can be much more gratifying.  I am reassured of this more than ever when I hear back from Frances the day after the fire,

“…We will start again and you will have another chance to sample our wonderful cakes, bread, cheeses etc…We just need to get everything out, get it cleaned and find a new place. Hoping to meet you properly there.”