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Just after Christmas every year, baguettes and croissants move out of the spotlight in French bakeries (at least temporarily) to allow the galette des rois\u2014the king cake\u2014to take their place. A puff pastry pie filled with rich frangipane, it\u2019s a delightful treat sure to please any fan of marzipan<\/a>.<\/p>\n But while many choose their galette for its filling\u2014which nowadays can run the gamut from plain to pistachio, chocolate to coconut-turmeric\u2014few spend as much time thinking about that most emblematic of additions: the f\u00e8ve. (Americans may know its equivalent, the “baby” hidden inside a New Orleans-style king cake.) Its very presence, according to tradition, designates the \u201cking\u201d of the festivities each January 6th.<\/p>\n American readers may suppose we\u2019ve gotten our dates wrong, but that\u2019s no typo: In France, king cake\u2014devoid as it is of purple, green, and gold icing\u2014isn\u2019t just plainer in appearance than the New Orleans version<\/a>. French galette also stands out in that it\u2019s served, not on Mardi Gras Tuesday<\/a>, but rather on Epiphany, a feast celebrating the arrival of the three wise men at the birth of Jesus.<\/p>\n These days, galette season in France has expanded past the 6th: Any modern January get-together invites the presence of a galette. (I myself sampled 10 last January alone.) Before tucking in, tradition demands that the youngest member of the party climb under the table, announcing upon whom each slice should be bestowed. The one who finds the porcelain f\u00e8ve in his or her piece earns the title of king.<\/p>\n F\u00e8ves, as their name suggests, were originally simple dried fava beans, used as tokens to designate temporary kings in traditions dating back to Ancient Rome. Of course, in this pre-New-Testament era, f\u00e8ves had nothing to do with Epiphany. Rather, in honor of the winter solstice any sort of hierarchy was temporarily elided, giving even the lowest citizens the possibility to be designated king by the tiny bean symbolizing imminent spring. Bit by bit, as with many pagan traditions, the f\u00e8ve became part and parcel with Catholic Epiphany celebrations.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t until the Middle Ages that the fava bean was replaced by a porcelain trinket, a change made, according to National Geographic<\/a>, to reduce the risk of cheating. In the 19th century, porcelain f\u00e8ves were long imported from Saxony, and according to passionate f\u00e8ve collector Cyrinne Prudhomme (the woman behind the f\u00e8ve-specific site, Fabophilie<\/a>), these intricate, hand-painted f\u00e8ves quickly evolved from simple naked babies to encompass other themes like animals or playing cards.<\/p>\n The tradition nearly disappeared during the French Revolution, when secularism began to take hold and being named a king made you a good candidate for the guillotine. In 1793, attempts were made to forbid the cake altogether, but the French, never ones to say no to pastry, largely ignored the law. Some baked up \u201cequality\u201d galettes sans f\u00e8ve, and it’s this iteration that has been served at the Elys\u00e9e palace since the time of Val\u00e9ry Giscard d\u2019Estaing. But for most, f\u00e8ves soldiered on. After the First World War, their production was moved local, to Limoges, a city already famous for its porcelain industry. At this point in time, Prudhomme says, \u201cf\u00e8ves became quite plain, for lack of time, manpower, and means.\u201d<\/p>\n Limoges nevertheless remained the capital of f\u00e8ves until the middle of the 20th century, when plastic figurines slowly began replacing the porcelain ones. By 1988, Limoges Castel, the porcelain f\u00e8ve specialist that, at its peak, turned out several million f\u00e8ves a year, had ceased production altogether.<\/p>\n Prudhomme started her f\u00e8ve collection in the early 1980s, at the tender age of five. \u201cThe little object was cute and tiny, and we could easily hide it in our pockets to discreetly trade with our friends at school,\u201d she recalls.<\/p>\n The desire to turn her interest into a collection seemed \u201conly natural.\u201d Her first f\u00e8ves, however, were \u201cnothing extraordinary,\u201d she says. They were mostly plain white and their shape, size, and design remained consistent over the years.<\/p>\n All that changed in 1989 when, prompted by the bicentennial of the French Revolution, porcelain f\u00e8ves began their resurgence in France. In 1990, two years after Limoges Castel had ceased production, Jean-Michel Rojat founded Panessiel near Grenoble, a company with the goal of preserving the tradition of made-in-France f\u00e8ves. Soon after, Prudhomme says, well-known pastry chefs \u201cbegan producing their own models.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSome put themselves center-stage by making f\u00e8ves in their own image, or in the image of their pastry shops,\u201d says Prudhomme. Others produced toy-like characters to catch the eye of children or engineered ranges like Pierre Herm\u00e9\u2019s puzzle pieces, which encouraged users to complete the set (and thus buy even more galettes).<\/p>\n \u201cThere were so many that it was impossible to collect them all,\u201d Prudhomme recalls.<\/p>\n While today 95 percent of f\u00e8ves are made in Asia, the French market leader Panessiel makes some one million each year and produced its 10 millionth French f\u00e8ve this past November. It’s the f\u00e8ve producer of choice for some of French pastry’s most famous names, including Pierre Herm\u00e9 and Cyril Lignac. But some bakers rely on even smaller local producers.<\/p>\n Camille Drozdz and Anthony Bureau are the ceramicists and co-owners of Ici l\u2019Atelier, in La Ciotat, not far from Marseille. At the behest of a Ni\u00e7oise chef, they began making their own f\u00e8ves a few years ago.<\/p>\n \u201cWord of mouth did its work, and a few clients who had seen the pieces we made for her followed,\u201d they recall. \u201cThe idea of working on a sculpture on a small scale seduced us immediately, allying our creativity, our savoir-faire, and that of an artisan baker and pastry chef.\u201d<\/p>\n Above all, Drozdz and Bureau are intrigued by the prospect of propagating this tradition in a contemporary way, crafting unique collections for each baker with whom they work. Drozdz recalls her own Epiphany memories: uniting around the old wooden table at her grandmother\u2019s house with her sisters and cousins.<\/p>\n \u201cThe smell of hot butter in the puff pastry,\u201d recalls Drozdz, \u201cAnd I, the youngest, under the table proudly calling out who would get each piece.\u201d<\/p>\n Anthony Courteille is the baker behind Paris\u2019 Sain Boulangerie, a bakery known for its organic ingredients and artisan savoir-faire. He too remembers the galettes of his youth. \u201cI loved it,\u201d he says. \u201cJust imagine: You\u2019re a kid; you\u2019re six or seven, and you\u2019re told you can be king.\u201d<\/p>\n He bakes two galettes each season: one plain, and one flavored. Last year\u2019s chocolate-hazelnut will this year be replaced by a collaboration with Parisian coffee shop La Main Noire, whose turmeric-scented Golden Paste\u2014usually used as a base for golden milk lattes\u2014will be married with coconut and pineapple. Coirteille’s f\u00e8ves were designed by Audrey Giacomini of Giaco Studio in Montreuil, just outside of Paris. Each features a hole, encouraging the finder to repurpose it into earrings or a necklace.<\/p>\n \u201cI think it\u2019s a shame, in our society of over-consumption, that we no longer give value to things,\u201d says Courteille of his inspiration. \u201cYou can create a story with this object and give it value.\u201d Three new f\u00e8ves resulted from Giacomini and Courteille\u2019s collaboration: a leaf, an almond, and\u2014in a tribute to the trinket’s humble origins\u2014a fava bean.<\/p>\n What\u2019s a F\u00e8ve?<\/h2>\n
A Collector’s Item<\/h2>\n
Artisan F\u00e8ves for Artisan Bakers<\/h2>\n
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\nHave you tried a French galette des rois? Let us know your thoughts below!<\/em>
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