The « Bouquettes », the « Macrale » and the

The « Bouquettes », the « Macrale »
and the Christmas children’s tea party.
To make it clear, I have to explain that
« a bouquette » is a thick and nourishing
pancake that we usually eat in the land
of Liège. It is made of buckwheat flour,
water, sugar and raisins.
A « macrale » is a witch but please, listen to the story first so that
you can understand better.
Mrs Bouquette, who must have had another name in the past but nobody remembers it in
the Récollets street, makes all year long, her buckwheat galettes that she sells in « OutreMeuse », one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Liège.
She pulls her cart through the little winding streets, shouting: « Bouquettes, bouquettes ».
Any passer who has a little money in his pocket and an empty stomach can buy a crêpe
to Mrs Bouquette.
But every year on Christmas eve, Mrs Bouquette offers a Christmas meal to the children who
live in her street and to her little neighbours because most of the time, they don’t have enough
money to buy her bouquettes.
And so, on this Christmas eve, all the children were sitting around her, in her kitchen. It was
hot, the windows were fogging, the coal-fired cook stove was « purring » and the cheeks were
on fire.
Mrs Bouqette had made her pancake dough
in a big basin and was warming up the fat.
The sizzle of the fat was tickling the ears
and the noses.
Suddenly, she heard knocking violently at
her window overlooking the street.
Mrs Bouquette was very upset, she removed the pan from the heat and opened the
window.
_ «I am not working today », said Mrs Bouquette, trying to close the window to keep the
cold out.
_ « But it smells very good at your house »,
answered « the Jane », an old toothless woman with a mustache, who was staring at the
children.
_ «These children are my guests , answered
Mrs Bouquette, like every year at Christmas ».
_ «If there are some pancakes for them, I don’t
know why there shouldn’t be some left for the
other ones », said the Jane with a nasty look.
Then she realized that there was no need to
wait and so, she went away, grumbling.
Mrs Bouquette closed her window, put her
pan back on the heat but her heart was not in
it anymore.
Indeed, not only the children
were afraid of the Jane in the
neighbourhood, adults were
scared too.
She was well known for casting spells, for being a witch,
a « macrale » as we say here
in Liège.
Mrs Bouquette was very
moved by her words. She
took a ladle full of dough
and poured it into the pan.
The dough began to warm up. The children were looking very crefully. When the pancake was
well cooked on one side, Mrs Bouquette flipped the pancake high in the air but amazingly,
nothing fell down in the pan.
Where was that hell of a pancake?
The old lady and the children began to search everywhere, one looked behind the stove, the
other one on the floor, under the table. The third one under the sideboard. They rummaged
the whole kitchen but they couldn’t find the pancake.
_ « Too bad said Mrs Bouquette, I will find it back. Sit down my sweet children, I’m going to
make another one ».
So she began to heat up the oil in the pan and poured some dough again.
When it was well cooked on one side, she said to the children who were still looking very
carefully:
_ « Look, look this time: one, two, three, hup »!
Godness! The pancake had disappeared again.
No way! There must be something mysterious in this story. It is impossible.
_ »I am going to make it one more time, keep your eyes wide open ».
And so Mrs Bouquette put her pan on the stove, poured the oil and when the oil was hot, she
put some dough again to make a third pancake.
« Now children, look carefully. I am going to flip the pancake for the third time: one, two,
three, hup »!
No, not possible! Vanished once more!
But what had happened to these pancakes?
Mrs Bouquette had a little idea about the vanished pancakes but she didn’t want to show anything about it.
« Jean-Marie, go ang get your mumto ask her what she thinks about it ».
Jean-Marie came back with his mum. He was short of breath.
Mrs Bouquette and the children told her what had happened.
« Have you searched everywhere? Are you sure about
that »? asked the mum.
« Of course, we are sure »
answered Mrs Bouquette and
the children.
« Well, this is weird, really
weird » said the mum. « I am
going to get daddy, he may have
an explanation ».
The mum rushed to her house and came back with the daddy a few minutes later.
So Mrs Bouquette, the children and the mum began to tell the whole story to the daddy.
« Have you really searched everywhere »? asked the daddy.
« Of course we have » answered the children, Mrs Bouquette and the mum in chorus.
« Well, this is so weird » said the father, « really weird ».
« Let’s go and get granny. She often has good ideas ».
So the daddy rushed and came back with the grandma, who was trotting behind him!
Then, the children, Mrs Bouqette, the mother, the father sat down all together and told the
story to the granny, without forgetting to talk about the Janes’s visit.
« Don’t look further! I know what it is. All this is because of the witch ( the macrale). She may
have put a spell on you. Well, the only solution is to pull the furniture out of the room and to
paint it back, from the top to the bottom. This will erase the macrale’s sign.
The children, Mrs Bouquette, the mother, the father and the grandma began immediately to
remove the furniture.
When the kitchen was empty, the grandmother said: « The lamp is still hanging on the ceiling,
we have to unfix it too.
The father climbed on a ladder to unfix the lamp and found the pancakes inside. « But despite
that », said the father, « we are going to paint the kitchen anyway ».
On that Christmas Eve, Mrs Bouquette, the children, the father, the mother and the grandma
enjoyed their pancakes in a clean and sparkling kitchen.
And from that day, we’ve never heard a word back about macrales in the Récollets street,
unless to laugh about it!