Rockville, CT, Or, Hope and French Pastry

Rockville is a section of Vernon, Connecticut, a New England mill town that peaked after the Civil War. To say that Rockville is hanging on by a thread would be too literal in this case, as the one remaining mill houses a textile manufacturer. A relatively newer building, a sweater mill whose cornerstone is dated 1906, stands in ruins by the Hockanum River, and no one has bothered to clear away the crumbling masonry.



Rockville today is a town where piety and pornography seem to be vying for bodies, if not souls. When even the package store and the gun shop have closed, it’s clear that the local economy is struggling. One tavern is still up and running, but it looks like this hot dog truck is not. I would have liked to try their hot pastrami, or Georgia hots. Too bad about TasTY CHicK- there’s no fried chicken in Rockville now.







Even with things as they are, it is clear that Rockville has a history that is not without glory. The Grand Army of the Republic Memorial building dominates the town center. It houses the city offices and a Civil War Museum with limited hours. I suspect the Museum is staffed by a dedicated group of local volunteers. I’d like to learn more about the history of the building itself, which has some intricate stonework. Behind the public square, the town green is planted with old flowering trees and ringed by grand homes in various states of decline and restoration.







Rockville has little to offer food-wise. So it was with the hope of the foolish romantic that I followed a hand-lettered sign down a side street in search of “La Brioche French Bakery.” The former Boston Bakery apparently had a new identity. The store was closed that day last winter, but, here was a hand-drawn tricolore - at the very least, the work of a sincere francophile. Then, straining to see inside the display case, I could make out one word in the characteristic handwriting of a person raised in the schools of La Belle France, “frangipane.”



To say that I could not believe my eyes would be an understatement. (The last time I was that surprised was upon seeing a ring-necked pheasant at the entrance to Bellevue Hospital in Manhattan.) So today, fearing the whole thing had been a fantasy, I returned to La Brioche to find my wildest dreams fulfilled: a true French patisserie/boulangerie where the specialties of the house are my favorite desserts in the world, Pithiviers and Apricot (or Pear) Tarte Frangipane. Be still, my heart!









It takes a dedicated boulanger to make an epi, a boule and a baguette for a little shop that has been open in a backwater town in Connecticut for only a few months. The charming francophone who waited on me explained that the pastry chef is Colette Berube. a Frenchwoman who had a shop in Stafford Springs, CT, (an even more remote CT town) for 30 years. Mme. Berube had retired, only to find herself bored. 4 months ago she opened La Brioche in Rockville, and her old customers come all the way from West Hartford to buy her pastries. These folks know to call ahead for big orders, but croissants, pain au chocolat, palmiers, pithiviers and bread are available daily. I forgot to ask, but the cake in the cooler looked like a textbook dacquoise. If you care to sit a while, there are a couple of small tables and coffee, and, of course, brioches.





A town like Rockville offers little to those who are in a hurry, but a great deal to those who have the time, and who are alert to small revelations. Some of these are of the practical sort, but fuel for the soul comes in many forms. This is a well-recognized fact for some:



Others, like me, need reminding. This morning, I learned again that I can be utterly surprised by the world, and even more surprised by my own willingness to experience the world in ways that are new to me, even now, in middle age. This happened first at the bakery. After pinching myself, I walked a while and came upon this old clapboard church which has been newly beautified by a Vietnamese Buddhist community. Upon passing the doorway, a flash of red in candlelight, harmonious chimes and voices became suddenly clear. You will have to trust me on this; I couldn’t take a photograph. I told myself at that moment that respect was what held me back. But now I know that I was startled and awed by the scene; to capture it would have been an error. Perhaps there is a little piety left in me after all.



The New England Civil War Museum
Vernon Memorial Hall, Second Floor
P.O. Box 153
14 Park Place
Vernon, Connecticut 06066
Phone: (860) 870-3563
Hours: Beginning April 2
Thursdays 4-7 PM
2nd & 4th Sundays of the month 12-3 PM

La Brioche Bakery
36 Ward Street
Vernon-Rockville, CT 06066
896-0750
Closed Monday
Tuesday - Saturday 8 a.m. - 4 p.m.
Sunday 8 A.M. - 1 p.m.

On a visit to La Brioche last weekend, I learned that Mme. Berube is not happy with the bread, since she has only a rotary mixer to work with at present. She is looking for a proper petrain, which lifts the dough and adds more air than a rotary mixer. (The link I found to an image in google is too long for this thread. Sorry.)

What a lovely start to the day!

Lovely post, Josephine!

Thank you.

Hi,

I think Bill/SFNM has a petrain from a video I saw recently. (I'll link it in when I find it)

I get a bit miffed when people declare regions as food wastelands. There is always something special somewhere if you are alert to it. Your post is a great example of interesting food finds in an otherwise depressed landscape.

Some of your comments on the business and infrastructure parallel my impressions of Gary, Indiana, which couldn't be closer to Chicago.

I once lived in a town called Rockville, though it was in Maryland.

Regards,