The Mice of Bistrot des Sept Frères (3 page)

Jean-Marc cuts fresh thyme—
le thym.

Jean-Michel adds the pepper—
le poivre.

And Petite Michelle folds the napkins—
les serviettes de table
—just so.

At five minutes to one, Chef Marcel has not yet returned.

“What will we do?” cries Jean-Pierre.

His cry makes Jean-Marc and Jean-Alexandre run
into the kitchen, where they bump into Jean-Paul,
which makes Jean-Paul toss peas and carrots into the air,
which makes Jean-Henri upset a bowl of broccoli,
which makes Jean-Philippe slip and drop a cake,
which makes Jean-Michel lose his grip on a tray
of
cafès express
!

Without a word, Petite Michelle walks over to the stove—
la cuisinière
.

and six drops of hot pepper sauce—
sauce piquante aux poivrons
.

She adds dash of salt . . . a bit of rosemary . . .

voilà
! The soup is ready!

At the stroke of one, Alfred Le Whisk arrives at the bistro.
“Bonjour, monsieur,”
says Petite Michelle.

Jean-Pierre pours the soup into a bowl.
Jean-Paul carries the pot.
Jean-Henri adds the garnish.
Jean-Philippe puts the bread in a basket.
Jean-Marc and Jean-Alexandre lay out the napkins.
Jean-Michel pours the cider.

Casually, over in the corner, Petite Michelle arranges some flowers—
des fleurs
—in a vase.

Alfred Le Whisk's stomach growls. He lifts a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Everyone holds their breath. Just then, Chef Marcel arrives, completely out of breath. It is too late. Monsieur Le Whisk has swallowed.

“Judge Le Whisk!
S'ilvous plaît,
please, let me explain—”

But the judge interrupts him.

“Chef Marcel, before I decide whose soup is the best of the best, I must know. What do you put in your soup?”

Chef Marcel looks at his sons. His sons look back at him. Petite Michelle says nothing. Judge Le Whisk pats his mouth with his napkin.

“Er . . .” says Chef Marcel. “Why don't we tell the judge what we put in our wonderful cheese soup?”

The Jeans begin to recite the ingredients.

“Butter, cheese, stock, cream, onion, pepper, thyme, and . . .”

“And?” questioned the judge.
There was nothing but silence.

Suddenly a soft voice spoke out.

       “A dash of salt . . .

              a bit of rosemary . . .

                  and six drops of hot pepper sauce!”