Pumpernickel in Paris

Imagine my surprise. One day I'm doing my weekly shopping in the local Chinese supermarket. It's really great because they not only sell Chinese specialties such as fresh tofu, but most foods you could imagine in a regular supermarket. I was buying my soymilk that I drink for breakfast and which is placed at the end of the aisle on the lowest shelf. I suddenly realized that just next to the soymilk, also hidden away on the bottom shelf where you can't really see it, was a pile of pumpernickel bread. REAL German pumpernickel bread – actually made in Germany!

Don’t' get me wrong. I love French bread. Sometimes I even stand in line at the best bakery in our neighborhood, behind at least 15 other Parisians (if I'm idiot enough to shop in Saturday). But this is different. I remember when I was a kid in New Jersey that my Mom bought real dark pumpernickel bread at the deli counter of the supermarket. It was almost black, moist, with a sort of sourdough taste. I suppose it reminded her of HER childhood since she grew up in Vienna, Austria and ate German bread while she was growing up.

I'm still trying to figure out why they put it there. Because, the next week, all 5 loaves disappeared! (Are there other pumpernickel lovers in the neighborhood? Would love to meet them!) It was replaced by German brown bread, ALMOST as good as pumpernickel, but not quite. So far those loaves are still there. Which proves that I am probably the only person in Paris who has discovered the German bread hidden on the lowest shelf where you can't see if of the Chinese supermarket, next to the soymilk.

Life continues to be amazing in Paris.