Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
It's amazing what you can do with some cake flour and a little buttercream. Ask Simone Faure, who creates deliciously edible cakes that resemble designer shoes, exclusive purses, and hats to rival the Queen Mum's. Faure recently resigned her position as executive pastry chef at the Ritz-Carlton, St. Louis to open Chouquette, a French patisserie that promises far more than a toothsome trunk show, including unique riffs on cookies and cupcakes; Japanese-influenced chouquettes; signature wedding cakes; and of course, "Petit Faures." Take it from us: Even if you can't afford this season's must-have Chanel clutch, you can afford the cake.
St. Louis has the most donut shops per capita than any comparable city in the country. Does that help or hurt someone opening a bake shop?
For me a donut is a donut. I think people go to places like World's Fair as much for the experience, for the personalities as for the donuts. It's consistency and familiarity...the coffee's hot, the cruller's the same as it was 30 years ago, and the woman behind the counter is still smiling at noon, even though she got up at 2.
They say that food establishments are like movies, where nothing is ever new, nothing is fresh.
It irks me when people say there is no such thing anymore as an original idea. That's so not true. Ben [Poremba, owner of Elaia and Olio and co-owner of Salume Beddu and Chouquette], for example, is incapable of doing something just like someone else. Chouquette will be different, too. Those who merely copy what's been done before get bored easily. Eventually that boredom shows in their product.
Why do an upscale French bake shop now?
Because I believe people are ready for it. Food quality and preparation has risen everywhere, and for whatever reason, bakeries have been lagging behind.
In the old days, though, every neighborhood seemed to have its own bakery.
And it's still that way in places. Having a great bakery in the neighborhood played a big part of why I chose to live where I did in New Orleans.
Are you a St. Louis native?
No, born and raised in New Orleans, in a part of town that would make McReetown look like Beverly Hills. I was not very privileged; my mother was 14 years old. I was lucky to have gone to an excellent high school and then on to the University of New Orleans.
How did you decide to become a baker?
I wanted to become an English teacher, but was horrible with children, then went back to school to become a nurse, but had a terrible bedside manner. One day, a doctor leveled with me and said "I don't think this is for you, but your cakes are really, really good," so I enrolled in culinary school.
And focused on pastries and baking...
Well, I was also interested in Kosher cooking, as there was a huge Jewish population in New Orleans. And then Kosher baking. Which led me to an apprenticeship at the Ritz Carlton in New Orleans.
...where the standards are very high.
The cake business is difficult to break into because no one ever really wants to teach you. There is one person in the organization making cakes and one person watching their every move so when that person leaves, they hopefully move in. It's very cutthroat, the cake world.
Why, though?
When you consider how much people are willing to pay for a wedding cake—often thousands of dollars—you realize why. You've got an hour or two invested with the bride and her mother before you ever get started, and you--the pastry chef, the designer—are often trying to make up for this woman's wedding that didn't go right 30 years ago. You have two different agendas and two personalities—three really—and only one cake.
So did you make wedding cakes while at the Ritz?
I had a chef and mentor—James Satterwhite—who was very good at making wedding cakes but detested every part of the process. So for the next year, he trained me to build cakes--perfect cakes. I'd prep them, ice them, then hand them over to him for decorating. It was very Karate Kid, all work and no credit.
It happens...
When I threw a hissy-fit one day, he told me—and I remember this exactly—"If you are ever fortunate enough to walk in my shoes, you will have a cake bitch, whose only job on earth is to make cakes for you, to make you look good, and you will appreciate and value this person just as much as I do you. Now go finish icing my cake."
That's some tough love...
The man is a saint in my eyes. I understand now...I can bake and flat-ice a cake better than anybody.
How long did you stay there?
After Katrina, I went to Naples to do task-force [to help another property] until I could return to New Orleans.
I'd not heard that term.
Most of the time task-force was used as a last ditch effort before jettisoning an employee. You'd send them away for a month or so to see if they'd change--maybe it was you, maybe it was the property. Oftentimes, they'd come back a changed person. Sometimes they didn't return at all.
How long was that Ritz closed?
Eighteen months. I eventually returned there as the Assistant Pastry Chef, a higher position than before Katrina. It was a different world there, though. We didn't want a place that was better, really, we just wanted our lives back. We had gone from normal to homeless in 5 minutes.
Did things eventually return to normal?
There was no returning to that normal. But I was able to move up to Executive Pastry Chef there.
Do Ritz Carlton pastry chefs tend to move around, like other chefs?
When you work for the Ritz Carlton, you never have to apply for anything. You are sought after. Some head hunters call you on a weekly basis just to make sure you're happy where you are.
What did you learn at the Ritz that stuck with you?
That in order to get to the next level, you must have one hand on the bar above you and the other hand pulling the next person up behind you. There is no forward unless everyone is moving that way. There cannot be one weak link in the chain.
When did you leave?
I was lucky that I had closure. I opened that hotel in 2000 as the lowest person on the pastry totem pole, I returned, and left that renovated Ritz as the highest. I got to see that world through new eyes.
I thought that might be enough to keep you there.
My family is still there. No one in my family has ever left New Orleans.
Another reason to stay...
My history and my culture was there. But a lot of that died after hurricane Katrina. We lost a lot of our elderly, the people who kept culture going. The new generation has no interest in keeping the culture, the stories, the language and the food going, and passing it on to their children. I make sure that my 17 month old child is well-versed in all that is--and was--New Orleans. The fact that my husband is 100% French national brings it home even more. That's where the real roots of New Orleans are...or were.
How did you meet your husband?
Through task-force; he was sent to New Orleans to help the Ritz get back on its feet. He then went to the Caymans where I would go every four weeks, which got old fast. So we looked for a place with a Ritz where we could go together. Ironically, the Ritz in St. Louis—a place neither one of us had ever been--had just posted a job opening. I applied on a whim on a Monday, and was hired on Thursday without ever having to do a tasting.
Did you know anybody here?
I had worked at the New Orleans Ritz with Christy Augustin, who was at Sidney Street Cafe here at the time. The first thing she told me was how different St. Louis was and that I should have called her before accepting a job here.
Your heart had to sink...
I realize now that she had no closure, no chance to move back. Now she says she can't imagine living any other place but here.
Was the position you accepted here the Exec position?
Yes, it was a lateral move, but in order to be taken seriously within the Ritz, some movement is necessary. I wasn't really sure where I was climbing to. The only other move was to Exec Sous Chef, which is a bit of a stretch, a completely different skill set and mentality. Those chefs are random; pastry chefs are methodical and emotional and manic. Across the board—male or female, French or American—we are terrors to work for. We don't see that in ourselves, but we do see it in other pastry chefs.
Of course.
Pastry making is a science. When you're in culinary school, you start to see the division. The methodical and emotional people emerge, and then there are those who are more fun to be around, very ego driven, more about them than their food, where cooking is done more to impress themselves and their fellow chefs than anybody else. They are more adaptable and will just throw things into recipes, believing they can do what we can do.
Can a regular chef do what a pastry chef does?
In restaurant kitchens, recipes are rarely followed for savory items. They're guidelines, because those things can be adjusted. If there's too much salt, it is fixable. There is no fixing in pastry. There's math and science and emotion involved. So if a pastry chef screws something up, it gets thrown out. What was money is now garbage. It makes you crazy. And if, God forbid, someone walks in and you're having a bad baking soda reaction, the world is over and somebody's gonna lose their head.
It's an interesting comparison.
The way we label things in a cooler is different, the way we set up our day is different. We are more dedicated to our image and more guarded with our craft. Their ego allows them to share all of themselves; pastry chefs, by and large, do not share. Young pastry chefs earn recipes from senior ones. I wouldn't dream of just giving out my recipe book. And when I do share one, I tell them that they, too, should pass it on only when someone is dedicated and deserving, Jerry McGuire style. Pastry chefs all carry their own recipe book, and they bring it to work each and every day.
Did your husband come here with you?
We were married for a year before he was able to join me. It was only our jobs that were keeping us here.
The culture is similar to New Orleans...
The streets have the same name, but are pronounced differently. I refuse to conform...I refuse to say GRAH-voy. I'm sorry, but that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. That sign clearly says grav-WAH.
We have Mardi Gras in common...
Yeah, and I said the kids have to love that because down south they prepare for it all year. And my St. Louis friends said..."Kids? It's not exactly a kids celebration here." When I explained that our Mardi Gras revolves around a religious celebration I was told it was a bit different here, and that kids are purposely kept away. I remember shaking my head telling them, "you guys up here are killin' me."
The Simone Faure buzz began in St. Louis when you started making cakes that resemble women's handbags and pumps.
I love fashion but can't afford it. Frankly, I can't bring it together, either. But I can do it with food. Like any designer, I can reinvent myself over and over again, through what I bake.
And the Ritz ended up converting the gift shop into a bake shop.
With mixed success. We're not in a tourist mecca and we were out of sight to the general public. No one wanted to valet park to come in and get a scone. And the Ritz' guests weren't exactly planning to grab a shoe cake on their way to the airport. When I went on maternity leave there was no one left to maintain the shop, so they closed it. I do still make those for them, though, if asked.
Where did you meet up with your now partner, Ben Poremba?
He was selling his Salume Beddu products to the Ritz. He spoke fluent French, as did I. He was from Israel, and had a background in Kosher baking and cooking, as did I. We hit it off immediately.
What got you to leave the Ritz and partner up with Ben?
Oddly enough it was Oprah Winfrey, when she was speaking here in town. She said that to start a business, don't trust anyone to do it but yourself, as your passion will be the strongest, your fire will burn the hottest. I said to the woman next to me "you know what, I'm going to start a business." She asked what I did, I told her I made cakes that look like shoes and handbags, she said I must be Simone from the Ritz, that she was a buyer from Nordstrom and that she'd wanted to take a meeting with me for-ev-ver. She said if I ever got my own shop that we should talk. Serendipitously, Ben Poremba called two days later with his idea for a pastry shop.
How did Ben pick the location for the shop?
He envisioned a little pastry place on the corner across from an old, worn-out gas station that was to become his wine bar, Olio. I could not. My husband could not. But we had seen neighborhoods in New Orleans go from unloved and forgotten to green-living, desirable places to live. That we could see. So we signed on in blind faith. We believed how we thought people should eat would be shared by others here.
So you had a common vision.
We put so much thought into what goes in our bodies and onto our backs, conscious not just about what we eat but where it's coming from. It's now a focal point for consumers. I have a designer approach to food. People can look at my products, the way I combine ideas and flavors and textures and say "That is Simone Faure, uniquely Simone Faure." I know that people will drive across town to find something unique. I do.
What will they find when they get there?
Our backbone is in wedding cakes, specialty cakes, and our tea service. We're not a bakery; if you want to call Chouquette a bake shop, that's ok. But it's more like a design house.
Describe Chouquette.
There are several facets: a dine-in French patisserie, a low tea service on weekends, macarons, and a window display that I hope will attract a crowd...I want to clean fingerprints off the glass. Under the Simone Faure label, there's Street Sweets, more urban, edgier cakes, cakes for younger people, teenagers...anything cakes. "I'd like a cake that looks like a suitcase with $100 bills spilling out of it." No problem. You say you want a cake that looks like that tennis shoe you just sketched? I'll do it.
Fun stuff...
Then there's Baby Cakes, fashioned after Kimora Lee Simmons' Baby Phat gear and designed specifically for a baby's first birthday. Cakes that look like onesies, like diaper bags. And smash cakes...the small cakes babies smash then eat with their hands.
Something for everybody...
And in every price point. Gelato for the neighborhood kids, cookies and milk specials. And yes there will be cupcakes...the only way I'd get involved with the out of control cupcake craze is to do it differently and not abandon my philosophy on food. So mine will be standard-size, elegant cupcakes influenced by my favorite people in fashion and pop culture. The Elizabeth, for example, has cocoa-lavender cake with lavender/vanilla-infused buttercream, covered in diamonds...sugar diamonds.
I sense that creating demand will not be a problem.
It's already there. We've been busy filling orders ever since I left the Ritz.
It's all very impressive.
And there's Sweet Chic, cakes resembling designer pumps and handbags--remember, that's how this whole thing started. And then there's Petit Faures, a reinvented take on the classic.
Reinvented how?
I love Japanese baking, a style the French have really adapted to. You'll see petit fours in different flavors--Matcha Green Tea, Tonka Bean... Morning buns and custard buns. All of this will be new for St. Louis. It's time for us to evolve...
I confess...exactly what is Japanese baking?
Very visual backing, vibrant colors. They will combine savory with sweet--like a butternut squash creme brulee with a sage cremeaux--familiar flavors experienced in a new way. They do their chouquette differently as well.
And what exactly is a chouquette?
It's a small choux pastry the French eat on their wedding day along with champagne, a hollow pastry, basically elair dough baked with rock sugar on top. The Japanese add another layer of pastry—adding a crunchy exterior—and then fill them. I never liked the traditional hollowness, either, and vowed if I ever opened a pastry shop, my chouquettes would be filled.
And will the ones at Chouquette be filled?
Every last one of them.
Will Chouquette have the look of a French patisserie?
Most patisseries in France have a formulaic look. There is only one whose design took my breath away--called Merte, up north, in Lille--and I would not even attempt to touch that. You can hardly see the window display through the constant crowd of people.
Why are there no European-style pastry shops in St. Louis?
The skill set to do that did not yet exist, but with schools like Le Cordon Bleu, it does now. People open a cupcake shop because it's a skill they already have. Now with more kids willing to study pastries here and abroad, the skill set is changing. Places like Chouquette will help usher in a new age of pastry.
Are you also responsible for the pastries for Elaia and Olio?
We are. We also develop recipes there that we can also use...then again, I don't see us using a lot of tahini at Chouquette...
Will all the baking take place inside Chouquette?
No. The baking kitchen is two doors down. We wanted a refined look and to stay as close to French culture as we could. You would never see into a kitchen in France...to the French, that is blasphemy.
