BENGALURU: Dexter’s Laboratory has a story titled: The Big Cheese. This is also known popularly as the Omelette Du Fromage episode. One evening, the laboratory computer informs Dexter that he is required to study for his French exam. He blows it off, choosing to do other stuff until necessity compels him to download a “Learn French” instructional LP into his brain while he sleeps. Unfortunately, the needle gets stuck in the introductory breakfast section and the next morning, as his annoying sister DeeDee observes, all Dexter can say is, omelette du fromage. Surprisingly, the only question in the French exam is: “What is French for cheese omelette?” From acing the test and impressing his female classmates with the ‘language of amour’, it’s a short hop to sorting out world peace and being declared Time magazine’s Man of the Year, such is the impact of Dexter’s limited French.
This episode contains a profound truth: one of the best things you can eat in Paris is, indeed, a cheese omelette. In fact, I highly recommend it for all sorts of benefits.
It is not like we don’t have good cheese omelettes in India. In my opinion, a good cheese omelette is a blend of three textures: it should be a bit greasy (for an omelette without grease is an abomination), it shouldn’t be overtly fluffy and the cheese should add to it a molten, silky quotient. You get omelettes that tick these boxes in many cafes around India, however, it is the fromage or cheese that separates the Indian omelette from the French one. The cheese omelette is food that gives you energy. And you will need energy to do justice to Shakespeare and Company.
Sure, Shakespeare and Company is a tourist trap. My path on my first visit was blocked by a whole bus load of tourists from the Far East. Dejected and bitter, I turned away. It had to be a scam. After all, an English-language bookshop in Paris with tourists and regulated entry, what else could it be. Luckily, I was persuaded to return.
This time it was emptier. You need to jostle but empty pockets can be found to browse, and is enough to browse through, from the largely rubbish old books outside for bargain hunters to the fairly good collection of works by famous novelists inside. And then, I got to the back of the shop. It was there that I discovered the science fiction and fantasy section and the antique penny novellas. This was the beginning of my conversion. Upstairs, just behind the stairs, I discovered formidable children’s and YA collection—accessible by a tall ladder.
Someone was playing the piano. Others were banging on typewriters. The stars of the show, the American-accented aspiring novelists-in-the-making, are the interns who buzz about the place.
Despite having the potential to be pretentious, this is a store with no class prejudice in its careful curation. According to me, any bookshop with a good sci-fi, fantasy and children’s collection cannot be accused of being pretentious even in Paris. It’s not neccesarily the books in Shakespeare and Co. that are unique. What you can find are editions of your favourites. Beware, first you won’t know what to buy. Then, you’ll want to buy the whole shop. Breathe. Be discerning. Be brave. A purchase here is certainly worth precious foreign exchange and weight allowance. It is also worth a good omelette du fromage.
Shome is a writer and blogs at www.zombiesandcomputers.blogspot.in