The Mice of Bistrot des Sept Frères by Marie LeTourneau

I n Paris’ Latin Quarter, Chef Marcel owns a fancy bistro called Le Bistrot des Sept Frères , or The Bistro of the Seven Brothers.
    Le Bistrot des Sept Frères has the very best in mouse cuisine. Anyone who is anyone eats there. It is the hippest place in Paris!

    Chef Marcel is known throughout France for his wonderfully delicious soupe au fromage , cheese soup.
    The cheese soup is made with a very special, secret ingredient known only to Chef Marcel. Every year, the bistro wins the big award for the best cheese soup in all of France. The bistro is always busy, but Chef Marcel has plenty of help in the kitchen from his seven sons.

    This is Jean-Pierre. He loves boating.

    The twins, Jean-Paul and Jean-Henri, adore skiing in alpine races.

    Jean-Philippe plays a mean bass in a blues band.

    Jean-Michel is truly fond of relaxing by the sea.

    Jean-Marc writes sensitive poetry.

    Jean-Alexandre kicks a cool soccer ball.

    And last but not least, there is Chef Marcel’s youngest child, his only daughter, Petite Michelle, who loves the ballet. She helps out here and there.

    Each morning, Chef Marcel calls his sons together and says, “Tell me the recipe for our wonderful cheese soup.”
    And the sons recite: “Butter, cheese, stock, cream, onion, pepper, thyme, and the secret ingredient.”
    And Chef Marcel says, “Très bien!” , which means: very good.

    One day, a telegram arrives at the bistro.

    â€œOh no!” cries Chef Marcel. “That is one hour from now, and I am out of the secret ingredient!” His cry makes Jean-Marc and Jean-Alexandre run to the kitchen,
where they bump into Jean-Michel,
which makes Jean-Michel drop a bottle of cider,
which makes Jean-Paul and Jean-Henri upset a bowl of cream,
which makes Jean-Philippe drop the bread,
which makes Jean-Pierre toss the onions into the air!

    Calmly, Petite Michelle puts hard-boiled eggs— les oeufs durs —in a basket on the corner of the bar.

    â€œI have to go to the market to get the secret ingredient. While I am gone, everyone must help to make the soup,” instructs Chef Marcel.

    Jean-Pierre melts the cheese —le fromage .

    Jean-Alexandre makes the stock— le bouillon .

    Jean-Philippe chops the onions— les oignons.

    Jean-Paul and Jean-Henri add the cream— la crème.

    Jean-Marc cuts fresh thyme— le thym.

    Jean-Michel adds the pepper— le poivre.

    And Petite Michelle folds the napkins— les serviettes de table —just so.

    At five minutes to one, Chef Marcel has not yet returned.
    â€œWhat will we do?” cries Jean-Pierre.
    His cry makes Jean-Marc and Jean-Alexandre run
into the kitchen, where they bump into Jean-Paul,
which makes Jean-Paul toss peas and carrots into the air,
which makes Jean-Henri upset a bowl of broccoli,
which makes Jean-Philippe slip and drop a cake,
which makes Jean-Michel lose his grip on a tray
of cafès express !

    Without a word, Petite Michelle walks over to the stove— la cuisinière .

    and six drops of hot pepper sauce— sauce piquante aux poivrons .

    She adds dash of salt . . . a bit of rosemary . . .

    voilà ! The soup is ready!

    At the stroke of one, Alfred Le Whisk arrives at the bistro. “Bonjour, monsieur,” says Petite Michelle.
    Jean-Pierre pours the soup into a bowl.
Jean-Paul carries the pot.
Jean-Henri adds the garnish.
Jean-Philippe puts the bread in a basket.
Jean-Marc and Jean-Alexandre lay out the napkins.
Jean-Michel pours the cider.

    Casually, over in the corner, Petite Michelle arranges some flowers— des fleurs —in a vase.

    Alfred Le Whisk’s stomach growls. He lifts a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Everyone holds their breath. Just then, Chef Marcel arrives, completely out of breath. It is too late. Monsieur Le Whisk has swallowed.
    â€œJudge Le Whisk! S’ilvous plaît, please, let me explain—”

    But the judge interrupts him.
    â€œChef Marcel, before