REVOLUTION

My reign of galette terror ended last night abruptly and left me with a hole in my heart and anger in my soul for what could have been, what SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE. My strategy of hording the galette and systematically fishing out the prize for myself was brought to an end when we had one of FB's French friends over for champagne and galette. Not wanting to reveal my Napoleon side right off the bat, I stood in the kitchen quickly trying to scheme a way to get the prize. I decided my best bet would be to cut the galette into four pieces, give myself the biggest piece and leave a piece in the kitchen (as every one I have eaten so far had the prize in the last piece). Smiling at my ingenuity, I confidently brought out the three plates:

FB #2: Wait, you can't just serve up the pieces you want.
FB #1: And why did you only cut three pieces out?
FB #2: You just cut THREE pieces? Where's the last piece?
FB #1: Yeah, where's the last piece!? Are you hiding it in the kitchen? You can't do that either!
FB #2: And why is your piece enormous??? No way. We're redoing this.

Damnit.
OK, so these guys are harder to play out than I had expected.
Fine.

FB #2 hides his eyes and as I point to a piece of galette, he says who the piece will belong to. I hate this game. This is stupid and I don't want to play anymore. I wolf down my piece and find it prizeless. I try and hide my scorn as I watch them slowly eat their pieces. Why should THEY win the prize when I CLEARLY want and DESERVE it the most??? My mood lightens when I see that they too....are PRIZELESS. The prize is still out there. In the kitchen. In the last piece. And it will be MINE.

"Oh! I have a GREAT idea!" I say as I run into the kitchen and quickly devise another scheme. I will feel out where the prize is, put all the pieces under three bowls and put the prize one under the bowl with a mark on it.
Suckas. They don't stand a CHANCE! Hahahahahahaha

I bring the bowls out and start the switcheroo. Switch. Switch. Switch. But in my delusions of grandeur, I somehow manage to forget the most important step, the step I have to do for this to actually work....I MUST go first but FB #1 is already choosing a bowl. MY BOWL. The one with the mark! Waaaaaiiit.....nooooooooooo! I can't show what a lying, cheating immature grade schooler I really am. At least not in front of a guest. In my mind, Napoleon is dying as I reluctantly hand over the winning piece to him with a tight smile "Here you go. Good luck."

My insides turn over as I watch him find the prize and happily announce that my reign is now officially OVER and could I run and fetch the crown for him please? I can't believe I let it go so easily. Napoleon would have NEVER made such a stupid mistake! But there is always tomorrow.....

REIGN OF TERROR

It's Epiphany time here in Paris which means the boulangeries all carry my most favorite cake ever made on the planet...past, present and future. The galette des rois, aka kings' cake. The most delightfully deliciously almondy, buttery piece of heavenly AWESOMENESS I have ever tasted. My epiphany this year is that I need to replace as many meals as possible with galettes, to be the best I can be, to eat as many as I can and most importantly, to win the prize every time.
BRING IT.

Each galette comes with a crown. There is a little trinket baked in each cake and whoever gets the trinket is crowned king. My reign of terror began last night when I systematically sliced and ate my way through an entire galette for six people in one sitting. In the last piece was the snowman trinket. YOU ARE MINE, LITTLE MAN for I am now crowned KIIIIIIING, mwahahahahaha! I wore my crown to bed and repeated my assault this morning on another galette for four people, this time no knife, just chomping my way to the little panda bear trinket on the other side. YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE, ENDANGERED ONE!
Victory is mine again. DOUBLE KING!
I shall save my crown for an heir.

This is super easy holding down my iron fist reign of terror, just don't let anyone else near the cake(s). FB asked me where the galettes went.....I told him I didn't know.

Off to the boulangerie to try my hand at a galette for ten people....

THE WORLD IS MINE

Having lost the throne, I went on an all out galette bender. For three days I ate an almost exclusive diet of galettes. By myself. One by one. Piece by piece. Picking out prizes, shoving the rest of the cake in my mouth and adding another crown to my ever-growing pile.

I'm not sure if it's the horrific gas or the 10 lbs. I gained from eating an exclusive diet of butter and sugar but somehow, none of the new galettes made me feel any better. Though I technically already gained my kingdom back by winning (albeit against myself) 11 times over, I couldn't forget the one that got away. The one I couldn't cheat my way into. Somehow I just...didn't feel like a king anymore....or queen for that matter. All I felt like was a big fat buttery nobody.

So I decided to go search out the wisdom of previous kings. What better place to go king soul searching than the Basilique Saint-Denis, the mother of all resting places for French royalty?


Situated in a suburb of Paris, it was there that I found peoples who could really relate to my plight. Dead peoples who knew my pain. Dead peoples who had BEEN there. I walked between the tombs and crypts of French kings and queens and sat meditating quietly. I'm not sure if it was the blistering wind drafts but something hit me right then and there among the dead monarchy and I gained a sudden clarity.

It doesn't matter HOW you gain control, what matters is that you HAVE control.

So I lost my kingdom for one night? So what? I got it back 11 more times and it doesn't MATTER that no one else was playing! I am still the KING and I have 14 crowns to prove it! What would Napoleon do? Duh! Smash the crown, call yourself EMPEROR and call it a day!

I got back on my horse the very next day for a visit to the American Legion Post #1. My father (an American Legion member) was in town visiting and we decided to check out their New Year's get together where they would be serving.....that's right....galette.

Guess who got the prize?
Crown # 15. M.I.N.E.


It's not as nice as Louis XV's....but it's MIIIIIIIIIINE. The galette craze ends this week as the bakeries one by one stop selling them. Until next year my little almond butter ones....