Friday, April 22, 2011

R is for Ralph Fournier - #fridayflash

The French Baker by Vicki Housel



Ralph (pronounced Rafe) Fournier worked at the rue Trafalgar Patisserie, home of the giant sugared doughnut, for 21 years.
Lacquered with enamel the shade of clotted cream, the doughnut was made of hand-forged metal and weighed more than a Renault. It hung on heavy chains, the kind of tethers used to berth ocean freighters, welded to an iron bar the breadth of a man's chest.  
Tourists came to pose under the giant doughnut. They wore Kodachrome grins with cherries jubilee filling on their chins, smudges of cocoa fudge on their noses and strawberry pink crème anglaise on their lapels.
The enormous doughnut was half of the reason for the bakery's success. 
The other half was the ethereal pastries that flew out the front door as fast as they were made by bakers like Ralph, who came in the back door at 3:30 a.m. every day except Sunday and the time he had his appendix taken out. 
He came to work when the prostitutes on rue Ste. Anne were just calling it a night, when every respectable businessman was at home beside his snoring wife. He walked along quiet avenues, his footsteps hollow under the streetlights, his breath white in the damp winter months, the key to the back door of the bakery in his big soft hands. When he  arrived, Ralph hung his overcoat on a peg by the door, put his salami and havarti sandwich in the refrigerator beside bowls of lemon curd and buckets of butter, then tied a white apron around his white pants. He made a pot of strong coffee for the other bakers who would be arriving at 4, he lit the gas ovens and he began to work. Paté brioche, florentines, madeleines, eclairs. Croissants, meringues and mousse and petit fours. Tiny sugared doughnuts that melted on the tongue. He mixed flour, he rolled dough, he burned his fingers, his ankles swelled, he sweated and toiled. When his work was done, he took off his apron and he put on his coat and he took dessert home to his family, who waited dinner for him when he worked late.
This was the life of Ralph Fournier, who smelled like yeast and cookie crumbs. 
He bought lottery tickets because he dreamed of a day when he wasn't on his sore feet all day; when he could afford to take his family on a vacation, maybe to Greece to see a veined marble temple or to drink sparkling pink wine by a cerulean Italian sea.
On the day he won the lottery, Ralph was a happy man. He danced around the bakery in his apron and bought all the pastries in the shop and gave them to the customers. Then he hugged all the other bakers, who hugged him back because they were full of joy for this man.
"Ralph," they said as he was leaving, "you must go out the front door today. Have your picture taken with the doughnut on this, your last day as a working man."
They embraced him and patted him on the back and rushed him out to pose under the doughnut, where he smiled his Kodachrome smile with flour on his eyebrows and butter under his fingernails.
If this was a different kind of a story, the doughnut would have fallen from its chains the very moment Ralph posed for his photograph, crushing the baker with irony and a twist ending. Lucky for Ralph, this is not that kind of story.
The happy baker walked through the busy streets in broad daylight, squinting a bit in the sunshine, thinking about his wife's reaction when he told her the good news, and what he would need to pack for his trip to Greece. 
Behind him were floured footprints and sainted Madagascar vanilla, redolent in the changing air.




25 comments:

  1. I'd just finished the last doughnut of our vacation as I sat down to read this. Toothbrush in my mouth and I was pining to go out and get another. That's no fair, Mrs. Webliffe!

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  2. Yum! I can taste those pastries.....
    I'm glad he didn't get squashed under the big doughnut - that would have made a mockery of this wonderful slice of everyday life. You paint some beautiful and heart-warming images. Feel-good factor : 10/10
    :-)

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  3. Great story. Held me right to the very end and yes, I was waiting for that giant doughnut to come crashing down.

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  4. You paint such a vivid, colourful scene, an overload for the reader's senses. Marvellous stuff

    marc nash

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  5. A mouth-watering piece of writing, with a lovely feelgood ending.

    I'm so glad you didn't squash him too.

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  6. I was waiting for something terrible to happen to him but I'm so glad it didn't. The final paragraph made me laugh :D It's nice to read a short story with a happy ending once in a while :D

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  7. I'm sure I'm not the only one who expected the big doughnut to fall on poor Ralph, and I'm so glad it didn't! This is a beautiful story Cathy, with gorgeous imagery! Now I must go find a doughnut!

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  8. This is gorgous! I absolutely loved it. Perhaps my favourite of everything you have written, and you know I'm your biggest fan. The language is so beautiful. It makes me want to cry, or sing, or eat madeleines.

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  9. I love this Cathy! I'm glad you didn't opt for the twisty irony. I think you must do a little baking yourself to have made it so delicious and now I want donuts!

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  10. Another great one, I love how you can never predict the endings! xo

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  11. I'm glad he had a happy ending. Lovely descriptions and real sense of the life he lead before his lottery win!

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  12. I really thought, "Uh-oh" and cringed thinking he would be flattened by donut.

    But surprise, surprise.

    I want a donut. And a trip to Greece.

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  13. Not fair indeed, Mr. Wiswell! Talking about doughnuts and now I have to read about all these yummy pastries in Cathy's story, having nothing sweet to calm my nerves.

    Hey, Cathy, that's your revenge for my diversion from chocolate, heh. :P

    Loved the story and the fact that Ralph lived to enjoy his most deserved vacation in Greece. I want what Mari-girl wants too.

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  14. Fabulous imagery, Cathy - you are right - an excellent Fridayflash indeed! Please pass the donuts

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  15. Oh this was just lovely. I have a huge smile on my face. Now I'm hungry.....

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  16. Beautifully described. A delicious treat. Thank you!

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  17. Lovely work Miss Cathy. Yes, the imagery is lush and thick and vivid. And as always, the character you drew is alive.

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  18. This was chock-full of warm fuzzies. Good job.

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  19. I'm also glad it's not the kind of story where Ralph realizes his most deeply satisfying times were bending over the baker's bench slapping dough and decides to stay on the job. Thank you Cathy - or Ms. Webliffe (kinda like that). I agree with Laurita, this is a good one. Love the description of the doughnut. And "the changing air" - that's nice.

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  20. Poor Ralphy, Cathy ... I, too, dug this very very much.

    looks like they're gonna have to get someone to make the doughnuts... ;)

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  21. You've made me want to go and visit my nearest patisserie!!! Lovely description in this. So glad you wrote the happy ending!

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  22. I could smell the sweetness... I was almost afraid for him, so glad it wasn't that kind of story :-)
    ~2

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  23. what a delicious treat! so glad it had a 'feel good' ending... :)

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  24. I love the nice twist in the end - a happy ending! (and lemon curd and brioches - mmm!)

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