In Paris, how the Breton crepe of Montparnasse became a Tamil affair

Behind the kitchen plan of Le Petit Josselin, Anumuyam Thurarajah applies. “A Quimper and two Pont-Avens! » launches the waitress. It is barely noon and the creperie, rue du Montparnasse, in the south-west of Paris, is already full. Beneath a row of bowls of cider, the crepe maker who wields the spanell, the traditional spatula, brown complexion and bushy mustache, has nothing to do with Breton.

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After twenty years of service, the Sri Lankan knows the slightest subtlety of the names of pancakes. The guémené, with the andouille, the brestoise and its mushrooms, or the ermine-caramel-butter-salted, are among the first words he integrated when landing in France. To customers who occasionally ask him: “Where are you from, in Brittany? » Anumuyam Thurarajah responds, in rough syntax and with a smirk. “A bit far. I flew ten hours. »

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