Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?

I really don't even know where to begin with this post, but I maybe some of you are wondering why I haven't been around for a little while.  Well, I was super busy with school last week, and on Friday night, my life came to a screeching halt...

Nicole and I were mugged while we were walking home from dinner.  I met her at her apartment directly after class on Friday afternoon, and we decided to grab some food at a little cafe across the street from her building.  We left the restaurant around 21:15 and noticed 2 young guys with a mangy dog hanging out in front of the park next to her apartment.  The park was closed, so we had to walk around (it was well-lit the entire way) in order to get to the door.  Literally five steps from her front door, they attacked us.  I don't really remember exactly what happened, aside from the fact that I know I was clutching my purse under my arm, and I have a pretty sizable bruise on my bicep, so I can only piece together that one of the guys came from directly behind me and hit my upper arm really hard causing it to go limp...therefore, I am assuming it was pretty easy for him to grab my purse and run.  I turned around to see that the second guy had his arms wrapped around Nicole, but she was able to wriggle out from his grip and he ran off without her purse.  We were both obviously in serious shock, and fortunately, the lady she lives with was home and took us to the police station.  We were there for a while, giving statements and looking at mug shots, and we were finally able to leave and go back to her apartment around midnight (don't even get me started on the police station here...).

My life was in that purse.  Literally.

• Wallet --- 2 credit cards, 1 debit card, somewhere between 10-15 euros, UGA ID, Visa giftcard, the spare key to my apartment, both sets of my locker keys for school
• Blackberry AKA my sole form of communication to the outside world
• This post doesn't have any pictures because they took my camera --- I had not uploaded anything since last Sunday, so all of the pictures of dishes that I made last week are gone, along with other random pictures that I took as I wandered the streets of Paris.
•  My 2nd generation iPod, affectionately known as Eunice --- I loved that thing because all it did was exactly what it was supposed to.  Play music.  Period.
• My umbrella, sunglasses, Bert's Bees chapstick, pack of blank index cards that I had purchased earlier in the day, HAND SANITIZER!!!
• The KEY to my apartment --- if you recall above, the spare was in my wallet.  Why?  You ask?  Call me naive or whatever you want, but I am by myself here and therefore don't have anyone to give the spare to...although, I jokingly told Mom when I moved in that I should give it to her because it would be easier for her to fly over here and give it to me...little did we know that that would prove to be true.  Anyway, my thought process with the key was that I would  never go anywhere without my wallet, so why not put the spare in there?  Stupid, whatever, I didn't think of people actually stealing my whole freaking purse.
• and last, but certainly not least, the thing I am most devastated about --- MY JOURNAL.  That's right.  My personal thoughts, feelings, and experiences that I have religiously and meticulously documented everyday since I have been here.  My journal had not seen the light of day in weeks, but I took it to class with me earlier on Friday to catch up on some entries, and forgot that it was still in my purse.  It upsets me every time I think about it.  It was a prefect little navy blue Moleskin journal that my dear friend, Emilia, gave to me before I left because it was the same type of journal that Hemingway and Van Gogh used...AND I had almost completely filled it up, so everytime I opened it, I got excited because the number of blank pages were rapidly decreasing.  I couldn't wait to finish it and put it on my bookshelf, so that I could start over again with a new, blank one.

I still can't quite figure out why I was carrying all of that stuff with me that night because I never usually do...in fact, I had forgotten my camera all week at my apartment, so I had been taking pictures with my phone, but I had changed purses Friday afternoon and finally remembered to grab it (@$%&!!!!).  The other thought that pours salt on the wound every time I think about it is that nine times out of ten, my camera, keys, and cell phone are in my pockets rather than my purse because those are the things that I use most often...of course, that was not the case on Friday night.  I feel forever indebted to my mom, Auntie Pam, and Jonathan because they were able to have my credit cards and phone deactivated within 30 - 45 minutes of my purse being taken, therefore we feel confident that none of my personal information was seriously compromised...hopefully...  
I know I am not a saint, but I really try my best to be a good person, and I can say with certainty that I have not stolen candy from a baby, or pushed any little old Parisian ladies into the street, so I can't quite figure out why this happened.  It is especially upsetting because up until the attack, I had been absolutely loving every second in this amazing city, and I am angry at those bastards for making me feel otherwise.  Also, it is bitterly ironic that my last post was all about how Nicole and I had walked home alone and blah, blah, blah, so I feel like an absolute idiot now that this has happened to me.  After replaying the scene in my mind 290238490823489290834 times since that night, however, I really don't think that there is anything else I could have done differently...aside from not being there in the first place.  We were not far from her apartment at all, we had not had overindulged in any figurative baby bottles, and we were alert and walking with a purpose.  I think it was just the fact of being at the wrong place at the absolute wrong time.  They spotted us as we crossed the street, probably heard that we were American, and considered us pretty easy targets. 

The best part about this whole mess (insert sarcastic tone here) was that both sets of keys had been taken, and my landlord told me when I moved in that there is absolutely ZERO way of getting in to the apartment without the key unless you break down the huge steel doors ($$$$$$$$$).  That made me feel really safe at the time, and prompted me to be VERY diligent about making sure I ALWAYS had my keys (think: post-it notes around the apartment to remind me to always grab my keys), but it also meant that I was homeless until Sunday night when my landlord's brother (who had a key) would be back from a weekend trip to Monaco. 

Nicole and the lady she lives with were gracious enough to let me stay at their apartment, which was wonderful, but I pretty much had to rock the same clothes all weekend (with a few of items from Nicole's closet because the temperature decided to drop about 75 degrees from last week, however, she is about 6 inches shorter than me, so I will let you use your imagination on that one).  Also, my absolutely incredible mother flew in on Sunday morning to help me pick up the pieces of my life...she is the best!!!!!!!

Reason 92083489023489 I am generally annoyed and pissed off at the situation:
 I had the Paris-Versailles race on Sunday (which, as you may recall, I was diligently training for every day).  I almost didn't run it because my running gear was under lock and key at my apartment, but Mom convinced me to run it anyway so that those two pieces of trash did not get the best of me.  On Saturday, my sugar daddy (AKA Nicole) bought me new running shoes, Adidas leggings, and two dry fit shirts, so I was prepared to run the next day --- she even let me carry around a couple of euros while we were shopping so I didn't feel completely worthless, AND she let me "buy" the Starbucks!  It was a ridiculously hard and hilly course (AND FREEZING!!!!), but I am SO glad I ran it because it was beautiful and it gave me 10 miles to burn off some steam.  Also, Mom was waiting for me in Versailles, so I was pretty pumped about that. 

Reason 92083489023490 I am generally annoyed and pissed off at the situation: 
After sitting down and thinking about everything that they got, we realized it really wasn't that much.  The Blackberry, Sim card, and credit/debit cards were completely deactivated, Eunice was as old as dirt, and I don't know how the Black Market works, but I would think they would have to pay someone to take her, and once my camera died,  I am assuming it have been worthless.  At the end of the day, they got 15 euros and some blank index cards.  So, thank you, (insert multiple choice words that are not at all appropriate for the blog), for completely turning my mom and I's lives upside down for 15 euros and whatever else you found to be "valuable" from my purse.  Thank you for ripping my life out of my arms and tossing it out like garbage so that it can rot in a landfill.  Thank you for turning this incredible opportunity that I have been given into a constant state of terror and paranoia.  There is a very special place for both of you, and one day, you will get what you deserve. 

I truly don't care at all about the money or electronics that they got --- as we have illustrated in the past couple of days, those things are replaceable.  I don't even want to begin to count up the amount of money we have spent (and will spend) to replace those things, but nevertheless, they are replaceable.  The thing I am most devastated about is my journal and the pictures and memories that I had saved on my camera.  I didn't get a chance to tell y'all, but last week was CRAZY in the kitchen at LCB, and I had lots of fun things to share!  I will try and remember them. :(  I have been unsuccessfully trying to rationalize my lost journal...maybe it's cathartic or something to have all of my feelings written down and then released into the unknown world?  Yeah, right.  What am I supposed to do when I write my book and the first month is blank?!  Fortunately, I do have the blog to remind me of some good times, but still, that journal had everything in it.  Also, I know that I can walk down the street and take more pictures, but I liked those pictures.  I specifically remember a couple of times on Friday walking to and from class when I just stopped on the sidewalk to take a picture of the Tower or the leaves because I felt inspired, and I can never get those moments back.

My mom left this morning, and so walking home from class today was really the first time that I have been alone since it happened.  The intense waterworks came about halfway through my walk, and I didn't have any sunglasses to hide the ugly cry face, so who knows what I looked like.  To add to that, I had bags under my eyes, dirty hair, an over-sized jacked, and a death grip on my bag --- even though all of the important stuff is now in a money belt under my clothes --- so I probably looked like a serious hot mess.  Whatever. I don't care.  Fashion goes out the window when you get mugged.  It is just so frustrating that I should even have to hide everything under my clothes.  I shouldn't have to worry every time I walk outside that someone is going to take my stuff or harm me in some way.  It makes me sick to think that there are people out there like that.  

I know this could happened ANYWHERE, so I am trying to not take it out on my beloved city of Paris, but I can't help it...and the fact that I am not surrounded by any of my comforts of home doesn't help my homesickness at all.  I completely stepped out of my comfort zone to come over here in the first place and to try and heal my wounded heart, and now I get this?  Haven't we been through enough this past year?  Can't we get a reprieve or something?? I feel like my spirit has been completely crushed, and the absolute last thing I want to do is stay here for another second.  I am trying to work through that now because I know I can't give up on my goals (by the way, I was accepted into the Intermediate Cuisine and Pastry classes yesterday, so that means I will be coming back in January...I am still trying to process that...I was totally pumped at the prospect of coming back until Friday night), but it is really hard to keep on truckin' here and pretend like everything is okay when it isn't.  I guess I'll just add this to the list of things that I need to deal with and accept.  

Through all of this complaining, I feel very fortunate that neither Nicole nor I were seriously harmed, and I think I had my guardian angel named David watching over me when it happened.  While it was an awful experience to live through, it is strange because I never felt like I was in danger when it happened...I like to think that I have him to thank for that.

As I sit here and try to feel safe in my apartment, I still can't help but feel defeated.  I am going to allow myself the rest of the evening to sulk, and then, when I wake up tomorrow morning, I will have a new outlook on this situation (and poach some fish in my 08:30 practical, but I will tell y'all about that another day).  I will still have to work out all of the details of this mess (i.e. get a new phone, contact the US Embassy, blah, blah, blah), but I will take it one step at a time and work to try to not let them get the best of me.

I heard somewhere that carbs have some sort of chemical in them that causes a temporary high and gets the endorphins pumping or something...or perhaps it is wishful thinking on my part...anyway, I am currently stocked with 1/2 of a baguette, 2 croissants, a half of load of French bread, and rice and pasta a-plenty.  That is actually a lie because I have consumed the baguette since I started writing...anyway, I am going to enjoy my carbs and wine, and get back onto a running schedule tomorrow for my mental health.

Many thanks to y'all for sticking with me through this horrible experience.  Now that I am journal-less, y'all will really get all of my inner thoughts and feelings (get excited!!)...until I start a new one, of course.

- à tout à l’heure! 

One Night In Paris

Two blogs in one day...can you believe it?? 

Translation: I have a TON of other things to be doing, and these are the times when I am feeling the most creative and inspired to write!  I did, however, run along the Seine today, and it was the first really good run that I've had in Paris so far.  Maybe there is hope for me yet with this whole ten mile race thing...doubtful.  It's in t-minus 6 days, and aside from running today, the most exercise I have had recently is picking up an eclair (or croissant, or baguette, or rose) and putting it in my mouth. 

I can say with confidence that I have learned some very important things since I have been over here.  Most have them have pertained to adjusting to living the urban life and exploring a completely new city, language, and culture . 

The most crucial thing that I have learned, thus far:

Be sure to arrive at the metro at least 30 minutes before it closes...especially if you are hanging around on the complete OPPOSITE side of the city from the arrondissement in which you reside. 

How did I learn this very tough lesson, you ask?  Well, sit back, and I'll paint you a little picture of how it all went down.

If you recall, Saturday started out with my 08:30 cuisine practical, the last one --- yeahh!!!!  We made roasted chicken with au jus and garden vegetables. Easy, right?  As always, WRONG!  I am just going to start assuming every practical is really, really difficult, and then maybe it will be a cinch!  Wishful thinking.  Anyway, it wasn't as if the dish was all that complicated, it was just a complete mess for everyone in the kitchen.  It started off with people grabbing saucepans that had been hangin' out in a 200 degrees Celsius oven, subsequently burning the living daylights out of their hands.  I have been lucky, thus far, (PLEASE KNOCK ON WOOD!) that all ten fingers are fully in tact, and the only minor burn I have is from the baby bottle fondue place that Nicole and I visited on Saturday night (more to come on that later!).  We also had to turn two artichokes in practical, and they let us know that we will definitely have to do that (x2) on the exam.  All I am going to say about that is that I will be purchasing a LOT of artichokes between now and November.  Anyway, 3.5 hours later -- practicals are only supposed to last 2.5 -- I was brain dead and headed home to enjoy the weekend.

Two chicken breasts with au jus, with garden vegetables that took approx 29384 years to cut into uniform rectangles, sitting on top of a cooked artichoke - Voila!

Nicole and I spent the rest of Saturday afternoon shopping and walking around the city, and then we decided to head up to Montmartre to take her to the infamous baby bottle fondue restaurant!  It was completely packed when we arrived, so we waited around for a while and eventually got a table in the teeny, tiny restaurant.  We had a great time, and I fell in love with that place all over again...now that I had been there twice and was a regular!!  We enjoyed baby bottles of wine, steak fondue, and the company of a French couple next to us who gave us some good places to visit in France and a potentially free pass to Euro Disney.  The girl worked at Pirates of the Caribbean, so Nicole and I fully intend to take her up on her offer of getting us in -- free of charge.  Also, Pascal (so French, right?!) told us that the baby bottle restaurant is so old that his mom used to frequent it on the regular...and he was no spring chicken!  Nuts, huh??

My finger was a casualty of the fondue!  I'm not sure why I thought it was a good idea to grab a plate that had been resting up against the vat of hot oil...

After dinner, we weren't ready to head back home yet, so we decided to sit on the steps of Sacre Coeur and chat while overlooking the night sky and the incredible view of the city.

Now the fun really begins (insert somber violin music here).  We had a great time sitting on the steps and enjoying the evening,  but we eventually realized it was probably time to head back to the Metro.  After getting our tickets, we sat in the station and patiently awaited the next train to take us home.  It wasn't until that a group of girls across the track yelled over and kindly let us know that they had made a few announcements that the line we were waiting for was finished running for the night (I'm pretty sure they were actually laughing at us, but I'm not positive).  I would assume it was somewhere in the neighborhood of 01:30 at this point, but it hadn't even occurred to us that we needed to get back in order to catch the train...ugh, sometimes I curse growing up in suburbia!  If I lived in a city with a thriving subway system, then maybe this stuff would come naturally. In our defense, however, the stupid RATP website says that the trains run until 02:20 on Saturday nights...

Anyway, let me remind y'all that we were up in Montmartre, and for those of you who are not familiar with Parisian geography...MONTMARTRE IS REALLY FAR AWAY FROM EVERYTHING!!!!  So, we had a few choice words for the RATP and started the long journey home...8.1 km later, we were at my building.  All I can say is that it was a really, really long and COLD walk.  On the bright side, however, I did get to see some of Paris at night, which I haven't really done because I am usually bundled up in my apartment by nightfall.  Here is the best part...we were constantly scouring the skyline for the Tower (as in Eiffel,  we feel it is appropriate to be on a first name basis now that we have been in Paris for a month) to act as our North Star and give us the motivation to keep on going, and it wasn't until we were crossing the Seine that we noticed the night sky was unusually dark.  All we could see were 3 tiny red lights at the top, and a very faint outline of our beloved extinguished beacon of light.  In case you were ever laying in bed at night wondering what happens after the last light show of the evening, I am here to let you know that they shut the Tower off somewhere between 01:00 and 04:00 AM.  Also, I do want to say for the concerned folks out there, Nicole and I were together the entire time and walked on VERY well-lit streets.  At no point in the 9903488945 mile walk home did I ever feel like we were in a compromising situation...and actually, there were a lot more people out and about at that hour than I would have imagined.  Maybe they missed their trains too?

So, that is the end of my sob story about Saturday night and learning the hard way that even though the Metro SAYS it runs until the wee hours of Sunday morning, it doesn't because the French just really don't like to work that hard.  Speaking of which, there is a metro strike on Thursday (shocker)...the second since I have been here.  The first was pretty anticlimatic.  I was really hoping to cross a picket line or something (or hell, even picket with them!  I'm always down for supporting the cause --- I think it's retirement age or something), but there was none of that...only less trains and more people.  AND they announce them days in advance!  What is the fun in that??  I thought rebelling against Big Brother was supposed to be a little bit more exciting and spontaneous.  Maybe that's just in my fantasy land.  Anyway, I may go in search of the picketlines on Thursday and try to find at least one protester...what is a strike without some action?!  That is...if I can find time between my 12+ hours of class.  I'll report back and let y'all know how it goes.

And just for fun!  These pictures were taken in the exact same spot on Friday afternoon (the Tower is directly in front of me in the top picture).  Parisian weather is very sporadic.

- à tout à l’heure! 

"Add three letters to Paris and it's...

PARADISE" (Thanks, Jules Renard!)

Totally cheese quote, I know, but it is SO TRUE at the same time!  Yes, I would agree that most people imagine paradise as a more idyllic scene, complete with pastoral landscape gardens or white sandy beaches...definitely not a cramped and (sometimes) stinky concrete jungle, BUT once you have a chance to get lost in this amazing city, you realize it really is paradise.

My old friend, Nicole, and I each bought Unexplored Paris, and, I am very excited to share with y'all some of the interesting sites that we have come upon thanks to this really great book!

Before we get started, however, I wanted to tell y'all that I was able to cross something off of my Parisian bucket list -- sit on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower at night and enjoy a bottle of wine...it was absolutely incredible!!  Today is my month anniversary, and the Tower never gets old!!

One beautiful Sunday afternoon, we set off on a long walk from my apartment to Sainte-Chapelle cathedral.  We had Unexplored Paris with us, however, we weren't immediately planning on jumping right into it until Nicole spotted one of the sites depicted in the book!

This is what started it all!  The 4 street lamps on the Pont du Carrousel were started in the early 20th Century, but construction ceased when WWII broke out.  The designer ended up working on them in secret and they were installed when the war was over.  Pretty cool, huh?

We were thrilled that we found our first site, so we decided to look for just one more place before heading back in the direction of Sainte-Chapelle.  Five hours later, we were still wandering around this very small area of the city --- checking out everything it had to offer, and searching for more undiscovered sites of Paris! (By the way, Sunday came and went, and we never actually made it over to Sainte-Chapelle because there was so much to see in between!)  The book is like a scavenger hunt because it lists the address and a metro stop for each site, but the street numbers in Paris are pretty screwy, so we would end up wandering around until suddenly one of us spotted what we were looking for! 

We stumbled upon a MONSTROUS church with an interesting statue in front of it...

Saint Eustache - check out the flying buttresses on that beauty!

Kinda random, huh??

There was a "Little Italy" section of town behind the church, so we stopped for some DELICIOUS pizza and ice cream!

This was not even 1/3 of the flavors they had

Trying to be artistic...

It was soooo good!!  Half espresso and half chocolate chip!

Post ice cream, we were walking up and down this quaint little street, when all of a sudden we came upon a patisserie that has the #1 chocolate eclair in town --- and we just had to have one!!

Posing with our eclair.  Of course, it was incredible and number 1 for a reason!

The picture below is of an old restaurant that was in our book.  It opened in 1796 and closed in 1936, but during it's prime, it was a pretty happenin' spot!  It was called Le Boeuf a la Mode because of the carving of an ox above the door, and apparently there was a statue of an on in the main dining room that would be dressed up in various garb. The book says that now the space is an art gallery, but it looked pretty run down when we were there, so who knows what it is. 

Right down the street, we found what used to be the tallest building in Paris -- towering over the city at only 9 stories high.

Nowadays it blends in pretty well with the rest of the buildings around it, but it was really cool to find anyway.

Funny side story -- this building apparently has a secret passageway that is now closed to the public. We were trying to figure out where exactly the passageway was located, so we decided to walk around to the other side of the building, which happened to be a part of the Banque of France.  We stood outside the gates to the highly guarded Banque for a few minutes, minding our own business, and trying to sort out the configuration of the building to figure out where the passageway was located...when all of a sudden a guard came out and started yelling at us in French, and managed get out (in very broken English) "Vhat are you doing 'ere????"  We stared at him like a couple of deer in headlights and held up our book.  All of a sudden, his demeanor changed and he became incredibly excited and animated, explaining to us (in French, mind you, so I assume this is what he was saying to us...) all about the building that we were stalking so interested in.  Anyway, long story long, it was a pretty hysterical experience.  Of course, after that mess, we got a little bit turned around and ended up having to walk around almost the entire perimeter of the Banque, so I'm willing to bet that we had 8389475 eyes on us, making sure the two "innocent" American tourists weren't really trying to plan a hostel takeover or something.

The scene of the crime!

While wandering around that day, we also found a MEXICAN restaurant that looked like it served ACTUAL sweaty, greasy Mexican food!!  I have been searching for a Mexican restaurant pretty much since day 1 in Paris because my body was starting to go through La Fonda withdrawals.  When we spotted this place, it was like the clouds parted and the angels above were singing heavenly praise.  Later that week, we were actually able to try it out, and it was really good (it could have been the margaritas and sangria that we enjoyed, but it doesn't matter because it temporarily satisfied my craving!).

Yummm!

Us posing with the owner, Tony!

I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago, but Nicole and I have continued to search for the hidden treasures around Paris every chance we get (we have only seen a very small fraction of everything in the book, so it is definitely going to take a while to see it all).  Also, looking at these pictures has definitely given me a craving for our "authentic" French Mexican restaurant, so we are going to have to plan a trip back pretty soon!!!

- à tout à l’heure! 

Culinary Highs and Lows

I know I said that I was super busy, and I actually do have fair amount of other constructive activities that I could be partaking in right about now (i.e. rewriting recipes, flashcards, running (that 10 mile race is in t-minus 9 days - ha)...), but writing the blog is so much more fun!  I just woke up from a nap because the 08:30 practicals are killing me, and I have class at 08:30 AGAIN tomorrow morning (yes, that's Saturday)...BUT it is my last weekend class in the kitchen!! WOO!!!  I did, however, sign up for French classes at the school that will be turning some 10 hour days into 12 hour days and take up 3 hours on a few, otherwise free, Saturdays, but that's okay because it's all for the cause!

This week has been a crazy mix of ups and downs in the kitchen, and I am quickly starting to realize that that is just how it is.  I feel like everyday at school is a new hump on this insane roller coaster that I am on.  You either have it all together, or you don't.  Obviously, I would prefer more highs than lows, but I guess this is all part of the learning process.  The school says that you aren't required to have any previous culinary knowledge in order to go through the Basic Cuisine or Pastry classes, but I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like trying to survive this experience without at least having basic knowledge around the kitchen.

So, without further adieu, I will share with y'all some of my culinary highs and lows from this week!

I started out at 08:30 on Monday morning with a Pastry practical on puff pastry (which we had already made in Cuisine, so I was a puff pastry pro -- ha, wishful thinking) where we made apple turnovers and palmiers.  As always, the pastries that the chef made were perfect and beautiful and delicious!!!

Filling the apple turnovers

YUM!!

These are the palmiers, pretty much puff pastry rolled in lots of sugar and then folded up so they make the cute little heart shape

I had my shot at these pastries in my 12:30 practical, and they actually turned out pretty well!  It was a little touch-and-go for a while because the butter had not completely melted in my dough like it should have, so while everyone else was rolling out beautiful cream colored, homogeneous dough, my dough looked like it had leprosy.  That oven works magic though, because both pastries came out looking decent!

My palmiers!  The chef said I needed to work on folding them better, BUT he said that they could be displayed in a shop window!

Apple turnovers!  I don't think my dough rose as much as it should have, but they certainly were delicious and did not stand a chance in my apartment

 My last class of the day was a Cuisine demo, and we got to watch the chef make crab bisque...with live crab...

All of the little suckers awaiting their sauna...

Meet a velvety swimming crab

The above picture is somewhat disturbing...after we threw all of the little crabs and vegetables into screamin' hot oil, we had to smash them with a rolling pin to break them all up.  Now, this was nowhere near as disgusting as filleting the fish, but I'm not going to lie, it was pretty gnarly.  The bisque simmers for 45 minutes or so, and then it is passed through a chinois (sieve), so all of the guts and shell and stuff stay behind. 

The finished product

Now that you understand the process, let me just go ahead and tell you that my crab bisque was failure pile in a sadness bowl.  (I wish I could take credit for that, but it is from a skit by comedian Jim Gaffigan about those ridiculous KFC bowls with the chicken and corn and mashed potatoes...check it out sometime because it is hilarious!!!!)  You don't even get to see a picture of my bisque because it was not pretty.  All was going well until some of the crab/veggies browned on the bottom of the pan (which I still never really saw, even when the chef pointed it out) when it was simmering, therefore, he said it was bitter...the best part is, he tells me while he is tasting the bisque that I should have transferred pots to avoid the bitter taste...and add MORE cream to cover it up...why didn't he tell me this stuff when the incident occurred so I could fix it?!  How am I supposed to know?!  He also said I got carried away with the cayenne pepper because it was too spicy, and I am cooking for other people not myself, so it shouldn't be spicy.  Whatever, he just couldn't handle it...Cajun is in my blood!!  Oh well, I guess I will know for next time.  I did eat it for dinner that night and lunch the next day, and I thought it tasted pretty good...but I guess that's just me.  I also ate an entire baguette on my walk home because I was upset --- yikes!

After that culinary disaster, my spirits were pretty low, and I kept questioning why I was here in the first.  It's funny how I can get a compliment from the chef and it makes me happy for a little bit, and then I move on to something else; however, if I am constructively criticized, it stews in my mind for the rest of the day.  Why does that always happen?  My goal for myself is to not cry over bitter crab bisque and really try to not get so worked up about the little stuff.  After all, this is my first time ever making most of this stuff, so it definitely isn't going to be easy or perfect at the beginning.

The rest of the week went well.  I made beef consomme on Thursday, which was a whole lotta work for nothing, really.  You start with a big pot of stew, and strain it to remove the beef and bones.  Then, you make a clarification that consists of ground beef, egg whites, and aromatic veggies, and drop it in the stew broth to simmer.  It's pretty nuts because you start out with a cloudy mixture, and the egg whites and blood from the beef purify the liquid until it is completely clear!  Somehow I got stuck cutting and grinding the nasty beef while everyone else was chopping their vegetables (I am still not sure how I got suckered into that job...), but it gave me an opportunity to talk to the chef!  He is an older gentleman with grown kids, and he kindly let me know (in very broken English) that the French have a lot to learn when it comes to hamburgers and that his favorite song is Georgia on My Mind.  Isn't that adorable?!  My consomme clarified properly and came out crystal clear, thank the Lord!!

We added all of the veggies to work on our knife skills

The week rounded out with chocolate eclairs and chouquettes that I made this morning.  The chouquettes looked good, but the chef said my eclairs needed to be a little bit bigger.

School hasn't consumed ALL of my free time this week (only the majority of it), and Nicole and I went to a one man comedy show on Wednesday night called, "How To Be Parisian in an Hour".  He pretty much made fun of Parisians, Americans, and everyone in between, and it was hysterical!  We had a perfect little French dinner before at a cafe down the street, and it was delicious!

I had the veal Piccata and Nicole had a beef dish with mashed potatoes

Waiting outside the theater to go in

Nicole went up on stage and passed the test on "How to Become Parisian in an Hour!"

Tomorrow morning we are making roasted chicken with garden vegetables, so I will make sure to let y'all know how that goes!

Gooooooooooooo Dawgs!  Sic 'em! Woof, woof, woof, woof!!!!!

- à tout à l’heure!

Louis XIV (and XV and XVI...) Welcomes You

So, after an exhausting Friday, I was pretty excited for Saturday because Mom and I were plan to visit Versailles...but wait! I had class at 08:30 in the morning!  Ah!!!

06:45 came waaaaayyy too soon, and I was not the least bit excited to go run around a kitchen for 3 hours in my cuisine practical.  As I was groggily stumbling around my apartment, dreading the cool chilly air that awaited me outside, I noticed something peeking out from the bottom of a stack of clothes in my armoire.  What was it, you ask??  My big, red, comfy Georgia hoodie!!!!!  When I packed it in my suitcase, I promised myself that it would not see the light of day, and I was only allowed to wear it around my apartment...but I absolutely could not resist!  I rationalized wearing it because A.  It was Saturday in Athens and I'm feeling particularly nostalgic this football season (even though I think it was technically still Friday night in Athens when I put it on, but whatev) and B.  I figured I was the only moron out at 07:30 on a Saturday morning, so who would see me wearing it anyway?!

Woo!  Go Dawgs!!!  Although, according to my sources,  I don't think it wasn't a very good weekend to be a Georgia Bulldawg...but oh well, there's always this weekend! 

In practical, we made a dish of puff pastry with leeks and poached eggs with Albufera sauce (pretty much lots of butter and cream, of course!) that we observed in demo the day before, and it was definitely an interesting experience.  The dish wasn't hard, per se, there were just about a million and one things going on at the same time that needed to all come together simultaneously at the end...a typical day in the kitchen!  I was doing pretty well keeping everything organized up until the stupid poached eggs.  I have never poached an egg in my life, and it is pretty difficult!  Rather than ask the chef for help like most people were doing, my stubborn self decided it was best to poach my eggs by trial and error.  I honestly have no idea how many eggs I went through in order to get 4 decent looking ones, but I ended up having to run down to the basement kitchen and get another rack of eggs because I had used so many!  The kicker is, we only had to plate one for the chef to try,  but the recipe called for 4, so I kept on poaching until I had 4 (I hate to admit it, but they all ended up in the trash because I am pretty sure they would not have passed health code...).  Three hours later, I was finished and I got a positive review from the chef --- poached eggs and all (she did say my leeks needed more salt.  They use A LOT of salt here...and butter...and cream....it's disturbing).

Voila!

Another cuisine practical under my belt, and Mom and I were on the RER headed to Versailles!

Because we didn't get there until after 14:00, and it was such a beautiful day, we decided to just tour the gardens and save the Chateau for another time when we had the strength to fight the crowd.

In front of a statue of Louis XIV --- can you spot the Starbucks cup and Rick Steves tour book in my hand?? Don't judge!!

The front gates to the Chateau.  Rick Steves says that it is real gold...I don't know if I believe that...

The gardens were absolutely incredible!!!  The entire place was packed with a 940385098354 people, but it didn't feel like it at all because they are SO HUGE (except for the people who ruined our picture below...)!

We ended the day at a really good Chinese restaurant because it is pretty easy to get burnt out on French food when you are surrounded by it every second!

Mom left on Sunday, and Nicole and I started on lots of homework for school.  Who knew you had homework in culinary school, BUT we are diligently working to get caught up on rewriting recipes and learning vocabulary for our final so we aren't trying to cram it all in the week before.  Our study sessions usually involve baguettes, cheese, wine, and classical music...how French!  On Sunday, however, we had wine and potato chips because the fantastic boulangerie by my apartment is closed on Sundays.

Everything is better with rose!

We saw these rotisserie chicken and thyme chips at the store and had to try them...I don't really know how to describe the flavor, except they taste strangely like rotisserie chicken and thyme...

Well, that was my weekend in a rather large nutshell!!  I feel like ever since school started I have been constantly playing catch up to get everything done, but I will continue to try and post as soon as I have a free moment.  Also, I signed up for weekly French classes...woo!  They start on Thursday and they are at the school, so I will let y'all know how they go!!

- à tout à l’heure!