So, I'm reviewing the Tous les Jours here in Vacaville, and this one was an interesting experience.
Upon entering, the atmosphere exuded elegance-clean, polished, very "perhaps I should have dressed nicer to purchase bread." The employees, however, seemed to have been recruited directly from the local graveyard. Everyone was remarkably emotionless and tranquil, operating with the peaceful detachment of zombies who had accepted that the apocalypse was now their permanent employment situation.
Our cashier, Isaiah, also appeared to have left arithmetic somewhere in the afterlife. We paid $40 on a $32 total and were initially given $5.32 back instead of $8. To his credit, once we pointed it out, he corrected it without issue. Apparently mathematics simply needed to be manually rebooted.
Unfortunately, the same resurrection could not be performed on our drink order. We ordered two hojicha lattes-one with no ice and one with light ice. What we received suggested that "no" and "light" had become merely philosophical suggestions. I imagine zombies have difficulty with attention to detail, so perhaps I was expecting too much.
The strangest part was the bakery selection itself-or rather, the archaeological remains of one. For an establishment whose primary identity is bakery, there was surprisingly little available. Considering this is an established chain with historical sales data and presumably some ability to forecast demand, I'm not sure why the bakery looked like we had arrived shortly before permanent closure rather than in the middle of the day.
The floors were also covered in crumbs. Obviously, Tous les Jours cannot be held responsible for grown adults apparently losing the motor skills required to transport food successfully from plate to mouth. What the business can control is periodically sending someone out to clean the evidence of those failed journeys.
Now, the hojicha latte itself was excellent. The roasted, nutty flavor reminded us of wintertime in Tokyo and was easily one of the highlights. If they can convince the ice cubes to respect customer instructions, I'd happily order it again.
The yuzu pie, sadly, disappointed me. I'm a huge fan of yuzu because of its citrus, floral, acidic, and slightly bitter complexity. Somewhere in the alchemy of turning it into pastry, however, the yuzu underwent a personality transplant. Yuzu entered the kitchen with a passport full of stamps and came out having forgotten where it was from.
The turkey cheese salt roll was much better. The bread had substance, crunch, chew, and actual structure. It wasn't the pillowy, sugary cake masquerading as bread that the United States has somehow collectively accepted. Here, Tous les Jours leaned into the French side of its baking identity, and the roll benefited greatly from it. Personally, I think prosciutto or another more flavorful meat paired with Swiss or Gruyère could make it spectacular.
Then came the egg sando.
The bread deserved better.
The roll tasted as though it had been lovingly crafted by an artisanal French baker who wakes before sunrise and speaks emotionally about butter. The egg filling tasted as though that baker stepped away for five minutes and a British cook wandered into the kitchen and threw something on top.
It was bland, characterless, and completely undeserving of the bread supporting it. One component was whispering Paris boulangerie while the other was quietly apologizing for the existence of seasoning.
The packaging, however, was adorable. Whoever is handling the branding appears to be considerably more awake than everyone else.
Overall, there are genuinely good bones here. The atmosphere is attractive, the hojicha latte was delicious, and the bread itself shows that Tous les Jours is capable of producing something much better than the typical bakery chain. But between the limited selection, incorrect change, ignored drink modifications, messy floors, and some uninspired food combinations, the execution felt strangely disconnected from how polished the brand presents itself.
I'd come back for the hojicha and the bread. I'd just double-check my change, inspect my ice situation, and approach the egg sando with the same caution one normally reserves for British cuisine. read more