There is almost no better feeling when traveling than a phenomenon I sometimes refer to as a “celeb sighting.” I’m not talking about celebrities in the conventional sense, or even celebrity chefs. I’m talking about celebrity foods — the ingredients and dishes typical of a place that you maybe research before a trip, or hear about, and hope to encounter in situ. And then, sometimes by chance, they appear in shop windows, in market stalls and on restaurant menus. Tortellini in Bologna, okonomiyaki in Osaka, mole negro in Oaxaca — you get the idea.
I had one of my all-time best celeb sightings a few years ago in Paris. The subject was not a pain au chocolat, brioche or some other classically French delicacy. It was the humble Tunisian fricassee sandwich — a little fried bun stuffed with oil-packed tuna, boiled egg and potato, olives and harissa. My first true fricassee became emblematic of my belief that, when in Paris, small North African bakeries can provide the same amount of joy as the best-known boulangeries. And beyond that, they are wonderful places to experience the multiculturalism that defines 21st-century Paris and to challenge long-held assumptions about what defines “French” food. I remember the scene in that first bakery perfectly.
On tour in Europe with my indie rock band, we were put up at a chain hotel in the post-industrial suburb of Pantin after playing a small club in the neighboring 19th arrondissement. I knew nothing about the area and woke up early the next morning to take a look around with my bandmate.
It was the smell that stopped us. Those lucky enough to have visited France know the intoxicatingly sweet scent of caramelized butter that characterizes French bakeries. This smell was different. It was savory, with aromas of garlic, cilantro and olive oil. We walked in, and I immediately noticed the line of freshly prepared fricassees wrapped in plastic wrap behind the deli case. I was star-struck.
