Kanye West is an impatient man. He just ain’t got that kinda time for anything, whether it be Kim Kardashian’s divorce from Kris Humphries or waiting for damn croissants in a French-ass restaurant. That latter nerve has struck a chord with the Association of French Bakers, who have penned a letter to ‘Ye telling him that no croissants will be served until they are ready and delicious. Kinda like Kim K breaking away from the newest Boston Celtic.
The controversy began back in June, when Kanye dropped his sixth studio album, Yeezus. On the track “I am a God,” the chosen rapper declares “In a French-ass restaurant/Hurry up with my damn croissants.”
Well back the fuck up, monsieur. The French bakers are having none of this. According to today.com, the Paris-based association stressed that croissants take time, and those who are patient will be rewarded for their troubles. They also called his baby ‘Nord,’ which is pretty awesome.
Of course, the Association of French Bakers doesn’t really exist, and the whole thing was crafted by writer David Marx. It’s still pretty great. Here’s the full letter…
Regarding Croissants in “I am a God”
Association of French Bakers
900 Rue Vielle du Temple
Paris FRANCETo Monsieur Kanye West:
Congratulations on the birth of your daughter, Nord! This is a truly auspicious time for you — and so it is with great sadness that we must lodge a formal complaint against the song “I am a God” from your new album “Yeezus.”
Our organization represents bakers across France, many of whom have taken great offense at this particular rhyming couplet:
In a French-ass restaurant
Hurry up with my damn croissantsAssuming you, as a man of means, dine exclusively at high-end restaurants and boulangeries during your voyages to Paris, it could not be possible that the delay of your “damn” croissants originated from slow service. And certainly, you are not a man to be satisfied with pre-made croissants from the baked goods case reheated and tossed out on a small platter. No — you had demanded your croissants freshly baked, to be delivered to your table straight out of the oven piping hot.
And it was with great joy you ordered croissants — not crêpes or brioches — because only croissants can proudly claim that exquisite combination of flaky crust and a succulent center. The croissant is dignified — not vulgar like a piece of toast, simply popped into a mechanical device to be browned. No — the croissant is born of tender care and craftsmanship. Bakers must carefully layer the dough, paint on perfect proportions of butter, and then roll and fold this trembling croissant embryo with the precision of a Japanese origami master.
This process, as you can understand, takes much time. And we implore the patience of all those who order croissants. You may be familiar with the famous French expression, “A great croissant is worth waiting a lifetime for.” We know you are a busy man, M. West, but we believe that your patience for croissants will always be rewarded.
We could easily let this water pass under the bridge, as they say, but we take your lyrics very seriously. From the other lines in the song, we have come to understand that you may in fact be a “God.” Yet if this were the case — and we, of course, take you at your word — we wonder why you do not more frequently employ your omnipotence to change time and space to better suit your own personal whims. For us mere mortals, we must wait the time required for the croissant to come to perfect fruition, but as a deity, you can surely alter the bread’s molecular structure faster than the speed of light, no? And with your omniscience, perhaps you have something to teach us about the perfect croissant. We await your guidance and insights.
We appreciate your continued patronage of French culture. (Your frequent references to menage perhaps speak an interest in the structure of the French household?) We hope from the deepest recesses of our hearts, however, that in the future you give croissants the time they need to fully mature before you partake. With that, we say, adieu. And our member Louis Malpass from Le Havre wants you to know that he loves “Black Skinhead.”
Salutations cordiales
Bernard Aydelotte
Association of French Bakers