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Slate Articles ([info]slate) wrote,
@ 2015-09-29 17:32:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
The Unlocked City

PARIS—A little past midnight on a Friday night earlier this month, I waited on the silent, rain-soaked rue du Cherche-Midi for the door at No. 8 to swing open, hoping my name was really on the list. As I entered, the corridor smelled of baking butter crust, and the room where we left our coats was hung with two-dozen paintings of bread and lit by a chandelier made of baked dough. When Pierre Poilâne opened his bakery here in 1932, this was a neighborhood of artists, and they bartered their talent for his 4-pound loaves. The lighting fixture is a replica of one that Pierre’s son, Lionel Poilâne, built with Salvador Dali in the ’60s, when the artist ordered a room made of bread.



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