Finally! A Baguette worth writing home about

It's Monday morning, and I have just returned from a walk to the corner bakery - required - before I can get fully into rehashing Sunday's men's road race final in the Worlds, I need a baguette (and tea). There is a saying in cycling - "We eat to ride, we ride to eat more." and of all the things we eat, a lovely fresh baguette is the KOM in my gastronomic Tour de France.

It may be a stretch for a... let's call them non-baguphiles, to understand how someone could have such love for the French version and such loathing for the crap baked up in America, but if you haven't been there (France) and especially if you haven't cycled there, you have no merit weighing in on this one.

So let's review the facts...

INGREDIENTS

• 1 cup water
• 2 1/2 cups bread flour
• 1 tablespoon white sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons bread machine yeast
• 1 egg yolk
• 1 tablespoon water

That parts simple enough?

Now DIRECTIONS

1. Place 1 cup water, bread flour, sugar, salt and yeast into bread machine pan in the order recommended by manufacturer. Select Dough cycle, and press Start.
2. When the cycle has completed, place dough in a greased bowl, turning to coat all sides. Cover, and let rise in a warm place for about 30 minutes, or until doubled in bulk. Dough is ready if indentation remains when touched.

See there - right in the directions part deux - "When the cycle has been completed", that means picking a lovely route, a few rollers, a hill or two, and a meander along a farm field or forest river, then back home to your corner cafe and... well, I'm afraid that's where the dough goes flat. Despite the recipe and directions, breads in America generally stink, at least the long kind, with slightly pointed tips and a crusty golden outer and airy butter (real butter) begging inner. Why? Why do we suck so badly at this wonderful, but simple act? I'd like to blame it on a variety of things - an obsession with tailgate parties, Xbox, SUVs, Britany and Paris (not France), 'reality' anything, Wal-mart, Crispy creams, etc... but it happened long before those collapses in our culture.

So why? Why no great baguettes?

There is a wonderful scene in the movie (also wonderful) Diva, where Jules, the young protagonist, is shepherded through the art of slicing open a beautiful crusty baguette, pure art without piercing its spine, then it's leafed open with a gorgeous gentle crunch to reveal the delicate interior, one anticipating a lush bed of creamy beurre. The French director Jean-Jacques Beineix spends several minutes on the scene, because it's that important - its a baguette!

So why so hard? I mean why can a gazillion French cafes roll up their tin doors, push out a half dozen wrought iron tables and chairs and proceed to serve perfect baguettes on demand, morning after morning after morning - how can the tiniest village in the high Pyrenees greet a cyclist at the local boulangerie with one of these perfect creations - this isn't rocket science. And after sitting at a few of those cafes and watching the average Frenchman enjoy their perfect baguette avec un cafe, in a cloud of cigarette smoke, but somewhere beneath their nicotine veneered taste buds they know it is a real baguette. I needed to know why American bakers can't get it right? Is it really that hard?

Or is it? I decided to ask, bakers. The answers seemed to vary as much as the lovely loafs - "the oven", "the flour", "they must be baked early - before the humidity changes", "you must 'wash' them to create the right crust", it's endless. I sense a return to France in order to sort this out.

Finally, just maybe, the mystère du pain may be solved, I think my corner bakery, Di Prima Dolce, might have done it. I'm cautious, there was one day when things slipped, although they bounced right back. But wouldn't it be perfect - a wonderful French baguette from an Italian bakery - think about it, cycling's great siblings - Coppi and Anquetil, just down the street!

This morning begins my fourth week, and seventh lovely loaf, but so far,... let's just say the KOM points are starting to add up.

Tweets from the Epicenter

For over a decade he has been the growing epicenter of cycling - yip, the epicenter. Lance Armstrong is cycling's epicenter. Face it, no other cyclist has ever come close. You, cyclist or not, may not like him, you may think he is arrogant, you may think he doped and lied, you may want to strangle yourself with one of those yellow wrist-bands every time the media turns a cycling event into a Lance-event, and for those who love and follow the pro ranks there will always be Eddie, or Il Campionissimo, Kelly or Anquetil. But LA, for every average two-wheeled pedaler IS cycling. "No"?? Think not? Get this, in a world filled with a bizillion busllshit Tweets, a Tweet from the epicenter yesterday in Ireland -

"@lancearmstrong: Good morning Dublin. Who wants to ride this afternoon? I do. 5:30pm at the roundabout of Fountain Road and Chesterfield Avenue. See you there."

Got this -

Armstrong's Tweet turns out more than 1,000 riders for a jaunt around Dublin

Regardless what side of the Armstrong fence you park your ride, you are feeling the tremors from the epicenter. Some of those tremors are better or more bike lanes on our city streets; some of those tremors mean safe cycling programs in elementary schools; some of those tremors mean higher quality, lower priced bikes and bike parts; some of those tremors mean more race ops for young and old who will never make the pros; and most importantly, some of those tremors are about cancer, more money and more effort into understand and fighting cancer, and some of those cancer tremors creating everything from neighborhood rides to major anticancer drug companies supporting ride events local and national (the Tour of California).

Now here's the tremors some of you will be hiding under you 3rd grade desk over: For all of us who love the bike - despite our versions and reasons for riding - LA has made our lives better.

Photo (c) Stephen McMahon