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Monday, March 18, 2013

The Crescently Moony Croissant



Austria might be a small landlocked country in central Europe, but it is the heart of the continent. Its capital Vienna in the 17th century was known for the best food in Europe and became the envy of the other European countries. Its location by the Danube River connecting many countries attracted attention of some enemies, and this was the cause for one of the most historical battles. These two facts of food and battle bring a story of croissant.

                The baker named Bartholomew sat at the wooden table with his hands holding a copper spoon and trying to see a mirror image of his face. He had plenty of free time on his hands as provisions were scarce. Not finding his image, he put the spoon down and tried to remember the bakery as it was two months ago before the Vienna was besieged by the Turks. The empty corners were filled with sacks of flour, now gone. The bakers were buzzing like bees sifting flour and filling the room with a white fog. There were chatters and laughs, which they tried to keep muffled not to awake the people yet sleeping. Now it was replaced with sadness and pain.

The first rays of sun woke up Bartholomew from his pondering and reminded him to make his way to the Cathedral’s tower and check the view outside the city walls for any chance of spotting assistance coming their way. He wanted to be the first one to break the news, hopefully good news to the Viennese people.

            He navigated through the narrow winding streets to the center of the town occupied with magnificent Cathedral. After climbing the last step of the steep stairs and reaching the highest level of the tower, he looked through a tiny window. “Oh,” he gasped saddened by the view of hundreds of tents outside the city walls. The tents stretched out for miles, almost creating a city on their own. But it was the unwanted city of the enemy, who cut access to the rest of the world including the transport of provisions. “How much longer can we withstand this siege?” he questioned.

He was about to turn around, when another gasp escaped his mouth, “Oh, I can’t believe it.” Almost in the center, he spotted two men with painted faces and dressed in colorful clothes. One was throwing balls and the other was making faces to entertain the army. “They even brought a clown and a juggler to keep them entertained in such times.” Deeply saddened by the view, his head went down and he caught a different sight; a sight of the red tiled roofs of his beloved city. “Will the help come in time?” the question that was on the mind of every citizen of Vienna.

            Upon reaching the street and heading back to the bakery, he noticed the scattered bricks on the ground and people repairing the crumbling walls of the houses. The five or six-story buildings were packed tightly to each other as the only thing holding them together were the connecting walls. It seemed as if one wall went down, the rest would fall as domino.  

“How are you?” Bartholomew asked one of his clients, who was sweeping the debris from the sidewalk.

            “Trying to keep the spirit up,” the man smiled and continued cleaning. This was the usual routine for the past month; the Viennese people repairing the houses to keep their hope up.

             As soon as he arrived at the bakery, the assistant selling the small portions of bread asked, “Master, did you hear the news?” Not waiting for an answer he continued, “The Turks are getting closer to the walls.”

“They are already close to the walls,” answered absent-minded baker.

“No, they’re digging tunnels under the city walls to get inside the walls and attack the city.” Now, the assistant had the baker’s full attention.

“No, that’s impossible,” Bartholomew insisted even though he knew that it was very possible. Was this it? Was it the end of the city? The baker was lost in his thought. The assistant realizing it left him alone.

As the word had spread out that the enemy was digging the tunnels to reach the city inside the walls, the bakers were encouraged to keep their eyes and ears wide opened for any suspicious activities since they were the only people working during the night except the guards. Most of the bakery stores were on the first floor and the bakery itself in the basement. The basement was the level at which the enemy would dig a tunnel sending some sound. That’s why it was very important to stay quiet at the bakery and keep the ears on alert.

During the night Bartholomew put his right ear to the wall trying to hear any noise. Not hearing anything, he put his left ear to the wall hoping that this one would work better. Still nothing. “Where is the help?” he almost yelled forgetting to keep quiet. The lack of sleep and irritation were starting to effect his tone of voice.

The people knew that before the Turks invaded Vienna, Leopold I, the ruler of Austria signed an agreement with the Polish King to help each other in case of a war. But what Bartholomew and the rest of the people didn’t know was that as soon as Jan Sobieski, the Polish King, heard of the Turkish invasion he rushed his army to Vienna. The help was on the way.

On September 6th, 1683, Jan Sobieski reached the outskirts of Vienna. A light was shut into the sky to give a sign and hope to the Viennese people. “Hold on. Give me and my army a few days to regroup.” That’s the message the Polish King tried to send to the people.

            On September 11th, 1683, King Sobieski directed his army against the Turks. The rumbling of horse’s hoofs and clashing of the swords filled the air. The ferocious fight continued until the next day. The Turkish army, which was feared by many, for the first time was losing its battle and started retreating.

            The Viennese people inside the walls were awaiting the end of the battle with eagerness and anxiety; eagerness for the battle to be over and anxiety of not knowing the result. Bartholomew not able to stay put rushed to the tower to see the progress of the battle. To his surprise the Turkish army was running away from the walls of the city and in the direction where they came from. The dust rising from the horse’s hoofs filled the air and just in time, he noticed enemy’s flag flapping above the rising dust fog. “What’s that?” He squinted his eyes as this was supposed to give him a better view of the emblem on the flag. “That is a crescent moon.” Immediately an idea sprang into his mind.

He hurried back to the bakery to prepare for the morning’s celebration. Swiftly, his hands sifted some flour and rolled dough, which he cut into triangles. His lips whistled like never before, while he was shaping the triangles into the crescent moons.

            The following morning, the streets of Vienna filled with people singing praises for King Sobieski, who entered the city with victory. The people dashed to gather the little food that was left to celebrate this glorious day. Some stopped at Bartholomew’s bakery and couldn’t contain their amazement for the bread in the shape of a crescent moon, later known better as croissant. 

            After all celebrations were done, the people turned their attentions to renovations. It was the next step in getting the city back to its glory. The rumbling of the broken bricks and debris echoed throughout the city as they were gathered into buckets. The squeaking of the window glass being cleaned and sweeping of the streets slowly brought the people back to their normal lives. Shortly, with clean streets filled with aromas of different food, it reminded the people of the celebratory croissant. It was gaining its popularity with each day, but not without a dilemma. Some Viennese people whispered that the crescent-shaped roll was not an invention of Bartholomew as they already saw it at some tables during the Easter time. Maybe that’s true, but the fact was that it became popular after the battle and Bartholomew made it part of the victorious celebration.

            But this is not the end of our story. Some of you may already know that today’s croissant is associated with France. Why? Well, seventy-two years later, somebody special was born in Vienna. Her name was Marie Antoinette, who later became the Queen of France. As a child, she loved the sweeter glazed version of croissant. So when she became betrothed to Louis XVI, the King of France, she couldn’t imagine leaving Vienna without croissant. Could you? So she took a Viennese cook to make croissants in France. Croissant became so popular in France that today people think it was invented in France instead of Vienna.






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