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The Le Bread Xpress machine in Stonestown Galleria.

After you swipe your card or enter cash, the machine dispenses a warm baguette in about 20 seconds.

The Le Bread Xpress baguette from the vending machine on the left, with a baguette from a SoMa bakery on the right.

Bread from a French bakery in SoMa. Every taste tester in the SFGATE office thought this was the vending machine baguette.

But the Le Bread Xpress baguette had a much thicker crust and a more airy texture.

The display screen at Le Bread Xpress in Stonestown Galleria. The screen shows zero baguettes remaining after I purchased the last two.

There are sleeves attached to the machine to bag your bread in.

The two baguettes side by side, with the bakery bread on the left and the "micro-bakery" bread on the right.

Another view of the Le Bread Xpress baguette sliced up.

The Le Bread Xpress baguette from the vending machine on top, with a baguette from a SoMa bakery below it.

The Le Bread Xpress machine in Stonestown Galleria.

After you swipe your card or enter cash, the machine dispenses a warm baguette in about 20 seconds.

The card reader shows no baguettes left after I bought the last two.

I'm going to be honest: This story did not end up the way I thought it would. In my continuing quest to eat food and get paid to do it (as well as do reconnaissance work for the impending robot takeover), I took a Muni train to Stonestown Galleria near San Francisco State, not to shop at H&M or Sephora, but pick up some fresh bread.

Tucked inside the mall is a large vending machine called "Le Bread Xpress." You swipe your card or insert cash and, in 20 to 30 seconds, the machine spits out a warm baguette.

Here's how it works: The machine is stocked with up to 100 half-baked baguettes made at a wholesale bakery in Burlingame. Most of the bread is kept frozen inside, and just a few at a time are baked in the machine for an additional 10 minutes and held in hot storage. The machine can be programmed to have more or less bread ready, depending on demand. If a loaf is sitting there for over 90 minutes, it's discarded so it doesn't dry out.

Because of the way it works, Le Bread Xpress CEO Benoit Herve prefers to call his creation a "micro-bakery," not a vending machine.

So how does a loaf that comes out of a vending machine — sorry, "micro-bakery" — compare to a handmade, fresh French baguette? There was only one way to find out: a good old-fashioned blind taste test.

I purchased the last two baguettes the machine was stocked with and brought them back to the SFGATE office. Each cost $4. To compare, I picked up a $3 baguette from a well-reviewed French bakery in SoMa. I cut up each loaf and put them out for my coworkers to try.

"I already know which one came from the vending machine," said one of my colleagues immediately. (Spoiler: He was wrong.)

The two baguettes looked substantially different. The loaf from a nearby bakery had a softer crust with a more uniform color. When you broke it open, you could see it had a close texture (as Paul Hollywood would say on the "Great British Baking Show"). Everyone incorrectly guessed this was the bread from a vending machine. I heard more than once that it looked and tasted like Safeway French bread.

The real Le Bread Xpress baguette had a much thicker crust that you could hear crunch as you tore into it. The outside was still dusted with flour, making it look more artisan, and the inside showed much bigger air bubbles in the dough.

About a dozen SFGATE staffers tasted both breads, and pretty much everyone picked the Le Bread Xpress loaf as their favorite for its crunchy crust and airy interior. Personally, after thinking about the bread for way too long, I liked the taste of the bakery baguette slightly better. The flavor had a slight sweetness to it and it smelled so, so good. But I agree the overall look and texture of the Le Bread Xpress baguette won me over.

Herve operates 120 bread machines in France, and the San Francisco location is his only one in the U.S. The feedback Herve has received since bringing it to San Francisco about a year ago has been mixed. He says people generally like the product, but it's not the best fit for this market.

"The issue with the U.S. market is the need and the customer taste for fresh bread is not the same as Europe and Canada," said Herve. "American people, when they go and buy bread, they want to buy something they can eat right away. Unless you put some cheese or charcuterie next to the machine... they're not just going to eat bread."

With that in mind, the company is working on a machine that can deliver more than just bread. The next phase is a "micro-bakery" that can make croissants, quiches and flatbread on demand, too. Herve expects it to be in action somewhere in the Bay Area — he wouldn't give specifics yet — in the next two months.

Everyone was surprised when I revealed which bread was which, but we probably shouldn't have been surprised at all. Cafe X, the robot barista with three San Francisco locations, makes a pretty decent cup of coffee — and doesn't expect a tip. Creator, a robotic burger restaurant, has opened up on Folsom Street to positive reviews.

All this has led me to believe the inevitable robot takeover won't be violent; it'll be with cappuccinos and croissants.

Read Alix Martichoux's latest stories and send her news tips at alix.martichoux@sfgate.com. 

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