Now that we’re happily saying goodbye to it (permanently let’s hope) we can reflect on the many things lockdown taught us. Proper Zoom etiquette, the superfluous nature of underwear at home, how incredibly hard it is in fact to focus when working from home, undercracker-less at the kitchen table. It also taught us a great deal about the importance of flour, or rather the lack of it (still can’t get any wholemeal for love nor money), and since I’m useless at Zoom etiquette and not enthusiastic about sharing my underwear habits, that’s what I have chosen to talk to you about today. The focus thing? We’ll see…

Living near Montmartre, centuries ago I’d have been well placed to easily solve my flour woes thanks to the 30 or so windmills that littered the village’s hillside at one time or another. As time ticked by and the city swallowed the area up, either buildings or the ravages of years passing destroyed most of them, and only two now remain (though meant as a nod to the area’s milling heritage, the Moulin Rouge one doesn’t count) – the Moulin Blute-fin and the Moulin Radet.

Now, you think yeast science is a complicated subject, but researching these two has been surprisingly tricky, and a bit like looking into the murky pool of history wearing a dough-covered snorkelling mask. First of all sources can’t even agree on which one is which, but I’ve cracked the crust of the problem, and can confirm that Moulin Blute-fin built in 1622 (right) can be found on Rue Lepic (kinda, it’s behind the trees up the slope), and is best seen at the bottom of Rue Tholozé. Whereas it is inaccessible to the public, its sister Moulin Radet built in 1717 (below) is now a restaurant, and can be found at the corner of Rue Girardon and Rue Lepic. You’d be perfectly forgiven for being confused too given that the signs outside each one say ‘Moulin de la Galette’, and here is where we break bread together and find out the real story.

The milling Debray family acquired the two functional mills at the beginning of the 19th century, and they happily whirred away for a while grinding grain, squashing grapes from the neighbourhood vineyard and processing ingredients for the local parfumerie. City folk would come up the hill to the village for a bit of country air, and the Debrays provided them with small rye bread galettes and liquid refreshment as they relaxed and enjoyed the view. So far, so serene.

Fast forward to 1814 and the end of the Napoleonic Wars, when Montmartre was attacked by Russian forces. Three of the four Debray brothers were killed in the initial assault, but the fourth held on only to be killed too, and (allegedly) viciously hacked to pieces, his remains nailed to the mill’s sails as a gruesome warning. Crumbs. Their remains are buried in the nearby cimetière du Calvaire, next to Sacré-Coeur (another time, friends).

His son lived to tell the tale, luckily having survived being stuck with a lance. A keen dancer, in 1834 he moved the Radet closer to its windmill sibling and turned the tranquil family farm and country rest stop into a guinguette, or open-air café and ball. The party venue was quickly popular, and soon became known as the Moulin de la Galette after the small bread the millers were famed for (useful dancing fuel presumably). The punters came in their hordes, along with artists and painters who immortalised the scene, including Van Gogh, Utrillo (buried nearby at cimetière de Saint-Vincent), Picasso, Renoir and Toulouse-Lautrec.

Later it morphed into a full-on cabaret (complete with roof) and by 1924 was a dance hall, delighting locals until 1966 when it morphed again into a TV and radio studio. The music finally stopped in the 70s, and the Radet was turned into a restaurant, as it remains today. The Blute-fin was surrounded by residential buildings, and now looks out over the city with its musical ghosts, happily untouched by tourists. Only the two entrances outside on the street explicitly point to their fun-filled past.

Now that exploring the city is back on the menu, make like a local and dance your way over to pray to the party gods that the good times might soon roll again…

PICTURED: (1) Vincent van Gogh, Le Moulin de la Galette (1886), (2) Vieux Montmartre – Les Moulins en 1850, (3) Moulin Blute-fin, (4) Moulin Radet, (5) Moulin de la Galette, 1885, (6) Ball poster, 1900, (7) Vincent van Gogh, Le Blute-Fin Windmill (1886)

Post originally published 01/06/20