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Photograph:Michael Brewer |
The croque monsieur is a delicious sandwich made from ham and melted cheese. You can also have the jambon which is composed of ham
and fresh baguette, freely spread with butter. But one of us is going to croke one day, monsieur and it’s something that could happen precisely when you are
eating either of these delicious sandwiches--or for that matter the Croque Madame which is made with an egg. There’s a little joint down at the
corner of St Michel and St Germain right by the Odeon stop. You’re mouth waters
when you look at the piles of freshly made jambons behind the counter. You know
how fresh they are since the place has a huge turnover. Once you crunch into
the bread and soft interior oozing with butter, you're overtaken by an
experience that’s akin to passion-- the
temporary madness that leads to consummation. That very experience of abandon is similar to
what one experiences when eating a freshly cooked croque monsieur (croque monsieur literally means “crunch, mister”). Who knows?
Pheromones may even be released. However it's precisely in a moment like this
when one is filled with the rapture of everything that makes France great
(among these yet not limited to bread, sweet butter and ham—oh yes and brie), that one forgets to chew. And all of a sudden the bread (particularly if it’s the baguette of a jambon) is lodged in one’s trachea
and yes, there on the Odeon one may croke monsieur. But what a way to die!
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