IF THERE’S AN AROMA as alluring as fresh, still-warm bread, it’s sweet, just-baked garlic. As I wandered my neighborhood grocery store a few months ago, those two scents attracted me to a display of recently delivered Biofournil bread. The packaging, boasting that clinical-sounding name and a list of organic ingredients, looked vaguely pharmaceutical, but there was no denying the earthy fragrance and immediate warmth as I held a loaf in my hand. I took it home with me, and found that the plump garlic cloves baked inside it were as perfect as the ratio of crust to doughy, soft inside.
You can sniff out that aroma and enjoy the inside of Biofournil’s just-baked breads and pastries all over France and Europe—or you can just go downtown. In the late ’90s, when the French company went looking for an American city to debut their unique organic breads, they picked ours. Like many other small-batch bakeries, Biofournil uses a starter (think sourdough and the ’70s) that reacts with naturally occurring yeasts and enzymes in the flour to make commercial yeast unnecessary. Translated roughly, the name means “organic bakery,” and Seattle was deemed the city most likely to cotton to such a concept.
The cafe on Fourth Avenue has been there for four years, and they’ve been developing their retail program ever since. But because they don’t advertise either side of their business, and because they’ve been ironing out the wrinkles as they go—including how to obtain some ingredients stateside while still importing the 25-year-old bread starter and a few choice ingredients like chocolate and raspberry jam as well as how to keep the grocers’ shelves stocked—you’ll be forgiven if you haven’t yet encountered them. It’s common to find the four or five tables in their retail store half empty, even at lunch hour, when sandwiches, quiches, salads, soups, and pastries are prepared and served by a team of proxy Frenchmen.
IF YOUR FIRST ASSOCIATION with French food is richness, that’ll work just fine as an introduction to Biofournil’s three grilled sandwiches (all are $5.95). The croque Monsieur—ham and gruyère on sliced country French bread—is prepared classically with béchamel. Of the four sandwiches served cold on crusty baguette ($5.95 as well, and the kitchen will use sliced bread if you prefer), the black pepper turkey breast and havarti is the most popular, even with it’s un-American dressing combo of Dijon mustard and butter. It’s also not piled high with either ingredient, which fits with the way the French tend to favor moderation over gluttony.
If you order the albacore on croissant ($6.45), you know you’re not having a light lunch, but while some sandwich shops might overload the delicate pastry, Biofournil’s portions are right. Their tuna salad, dotted with capers and chopped cornichon pickles, is creamy and dense, and a light touch of it works perfectly with the sweet creamy butter flavor of the flaky croissant.
A serviceable if not spectacular French onion soup ($4.45) is served every day and with the thick, gooey layer of melted gruyère that you’d expect. Loaves (between $3.25 and $3.75 for a one-pound round, about $2 for a mini) of fragrant rosemary, that wonderful garlic, olive, surprisingly complex walnut, true rye, and whole wheat are all available for take-out, as is the signature country French (between $2.50 and $5, depending on size and shape).
Biofournil is also, of course, the kind of place where you wind up making a meal out of a pastry. I’ll admit to doing this once or twice with a marionberry croissant ($2.25).
Biofournil doesn’t havethe artisan feel that some other superior bakeries have; there’s something just this side of clinical about not just the packaging but the atmosphere. (Still, their products are good enough for the sandwich makers at Salumi and the delivery and take-out service Organic to Go.) And maybe that’s our American bias; we see wonderful bakeries as special, rare things, while in France you might not be able to turn around with bumping into one. As an everyday bakery providing the food of life, Biofournil is a blessing.
Biofournil, 2507 Fourth Ave., 206-728-1874. DOWNTOWN 7 a.m.–6 p.m. Mon.–Fri., 8 a.m.–6 p.m. Sat.–Sun.