Last weekend!

I survived my assistant week. We did everything perfectly. I got to school on Friday at 7:30, before school was opened (ooppss) because I was nervous that I wouldn't be on time. I was on time, too on time, but I got almost everything set up before Mike, my partner showed up.  I got to use the stupid dumbwaiter before the other people needed it and before the basement kitchen started to smell like nastiness. We had Hottie Chef which is always a little more pressure than the rest. He's quite intense. I don't remember what I was chopping but I scooped it up with the help of the big chef's knife and of course cut myself. I want to bring these knives home, but I'm pretty sure they are a liability in my mom's kitchen. He was very sweet when I cut myself, I thought he was going to yell at me but instead he gently bandaged it up and as Shibani says, we shared a condom (not a real one mom and dad, a finger condom to I didn't bleed everywhere. 

Friday, after class I left for London. I was frustrated because my gateau basque didn't come out perfect, but the pastry cream was better than the one in the demo. I actually had burned some of the milk but added more and ended up with the perfect consistency. For the first time chef pulled us aside and critiqued our work. I was unhappy with it. He asked if I could potentially sell it in a shop. Of course I said, "I can sell anything", wrong answer. Immediately I recanted and said no. "That's what I wanted to hear", he said.  

It really was awful. 

I made it to London where my gateu basque turned into pudding. 

Train food.  I brought them for Lily and Simon, but I ate them all.

Lil in front of her apartment!

 I was so excited for London because I got to go to my favorite cupcakery, Hummingbird Bakery! I got 3 cupcakes and Simon, Lily and I ate them all standing up in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Chocolate with Vanilla frosting (YUM) and Toffee Apple (not my fav.)

Red Velvet (YUM)

Saturday morning, Simon, Lil and I went to burrough market. It's a hungry persons paradise. We walked through the stalls trying all they had to offer. I had some of the best buffalo mozzarella I've ever had in my life from these two lovely girls. I must have tried 30 samples because I was almost stuffed when it was time to decide which food I wanted  It's always better to taste food from people who are as passionate about it as you are about enjoying each bite. as we walked in there was a fresh fruit juice stand set up. 

I ended up with a mango orange juice which was nice, but not mango-y enough for my liking. However, I did drink it within 3 minutes while Lily sipped her pineapple orange juice.

Side note: unfortunately passion fruit is not as popular in the US as it is in Africa, the Middle East or Europe. 

We ended up at our last stop in a part of the market that Lil hadn't been to before. It was a goats milk ice cream stand with a lovely lady standing behind it with some scrubby man. The only other time I have eaten goats milk ice cream was this summer when my mom and I happened to stop at a farmers market in Northern California.  Towards the end of the market was a goats milk ice cream stand (save the best for last). 

Unfortunately the ice cream in the states was better than the one at the market because it was creamier and less icy, but it was still good. I stood at the counter like a little girl trying almost everything. The woman took a liking to me so she started giving me samples. The best one was the honeycomb. It didn't have a strong honeycomb flavor but there were chunks of light and airy honeycomb on top. 

I ended up buying dried chick peas and tikka masala powder to make some sort of replication of my moms chick pea dish. 

Here is the market through my eyes/ lens. 

For you Lilla

Later that day the three of us went to my cousins hotel upon his arrival. It was so nice to see a family member. The four of us, lead by Simon's blackberry, went to Rose Cafe for lunch. 

Rose is tucked away on the top floor of quite the interesting "market" as they call it. It is very different from both Paris Roses. The bottom floor is a museum like gallery (potentially a shop) that has a variety of skulls. Rose splits their space with a store. There aren't any doors splitting off the spaces, just some tables and their counter where they cook. I ordered a few of their salads. Usually at Rose in Paris they give bowl of 3 salads and it's usually to go food but in London, they have less space to cook, maybe 3 burners behind the counter, so they rely on their salads for lunch. They also have more normal hours in London, potentially because it is less well known so they don't run out quickly. 

The salads are comparable to Paris Rose although I wasn't extremely excited about the carrot cake, it was okay. I also went with Addie the day I left for home and got a banana chocolate muffin to go, it was dry and not very good. The pancakes however were incredible along with his eggs. 

Saturday night the cartoons (thanks shibani) rallied to finally make it to Lonsdale for Shibani's birthday around 9. Adam, Nisha and I sat down for drinks at the bar. There were some interesting gentlemen behind the bar, each seemed more drunk than the one before. I'd describe them, but a picture is so much better.  I asked them to take a picture and they enthusiastically obliged so here is the picture of the three muskateers. 

Bar at Lonsdale

It took all three of them to take our food order. Oh and one woman who actually executed it, perfectly. One hamburger (the only one I've liked in almost a year), mac and cheese, green beans, rocket and parmasean, and gnocchi with  peas and fava beans (better than mac and cheese).  

As we walked out we were looking for a cab. Ironically enough lily and simon explained the cab/mini cab situation to me earlier when we passed a mini cab that had a sticker for something that he had done wrong. What I learned was that mini cabs don't go to school while cab drivers go to school and have to know every street in London. Also mini cabs are slightly more sketchy. Per example, our mini cab driver doubles as a drug dealer. So back to the "bouncer". He did the whole "honey" thing then told me that I didn't sound like I was from England. He wouldn't let me speak so I got up and walked away. He then walked up to the mini cab driver and said "they think you're illegal". What a thing to say. Needless to say, the driver drove away. Point made sir.

I think I need to describe the people in the situation a bit better.  Jonah has quite good connections so after Lonsdale I ended up doing more partying then I do in Los Angeles. We left Lonsdale to go to Eclipse where we sat at a table and ordered more shots than I've ever seen in my life.  They were some sort of alcohol of the bottom and champagne on the top, yum.  I sipped my slowly. 

They also ordered this infamous watermelon martini thing that comes in a hollowed out watermelon with 9 straws (not sure why so many) which was also pretty good. 

After an hour or so of watching two fat older men grind up on each other in the dimply lit bar, we left for Boujis, some swanky underground club thing.  We sat at a table thing next to some footballer.   Nisha is Jonah's friend who is getting her MBA right outside Paris, so she was there too.  She is quite the character.  She drank more than I've ever seen anyone drink in my life and she's one of those girls who moved to LA from some midwest state so she overcompensates for her non-authentic LA-ness.  She also rarely speaks in full sentences.  Her key phrases were "don't even" (with the pointer finger pointing to you while waving around in your direction) and "Uh, NO", again with the finger.  All I could say was "no what? Don't even what?!"  She's certainly a character and as the night went on the two word phrases continued, but became more unintelligible as to what she was referencing. She is nice though, I'll give her that. The other girl that Jonah brought was some chick named Lindsey.  She was sweet and I liked her because she loves to travel.  I wasn't so interested in what she had so say about me as someone has said she's a madame, well not really but she has some modeling/advertising agency that she started. She was cool until she got totally wasted and started apologizing for being so wasted.  

London was amazing.  Jonah has just informed me that he is coming this weekend to Paris with Lindsey so I'm excited to see what this weekend holds for me.  Also @loganDORSENTtweet is also coming with his lady friend @insaladameesta.  I am so excited to see them both, well Logan for sure. I must take them to ROSE!!!!!!!!!!

I apologize for any typos at the moment or in the past blog entries.  I have been typing this blog on my ipad and blackberry and have finally got my computer to work again and just want to send this out before everyone "unsubscribes" and thinks i've died. 

Thank you all for reading.  I really appreciate it!

I also know that there was a p.a.c (Pain au chocolat) somewhere in that weekend but obviously it wasn't memorable!!!!

I had two on the way to school today.  I will blog about them tomorrow!!!!!!  

Bisous

Things I miss

I miss driving through the city singing along to the music blaring out of speakers. At least when people look at you funny you don't have to be next to them for the next 10 blocks. 


Longer post about London coming soon.  I had a fabulous day today... Only because Chef told me that I could actually sell my dessert, unlike last Friday when it looked horrendous.  

Uh oh

I'm pretty sure my computer has bit the bullet. I'm unable to transfer my camera pix to my iPad so I'll have to put the operation on hold. Too bad, I was just in the middle of my next post when it fell asleep.

Eiffel Tower

Yesterday I walked around.  I figured that I needed to get out of my apartment after 48-hour lockdown. I got out and I got lost, naturally. I wanted to go to Zara for my first clothing purchase.  Thankfully jeans here are less expensive than at home and in Spain, even cheaper (get me on a plane ASAP).  While on my way home, I decided to walk around because my eating habits hadn’t changed, but my walking habits had come to a halt for the previous few days while feeling ill.  I walked past this lovely looking boulangerie, that almost sounded familiar to me so I stopped in.

 I decided that the butter content in a pain au chocolat would set me back a few days so I went with a small, squat baguette. There was one p.a.c left, but still I didn’t take it. I knew I would regret it later, and later I did.

I finally made it to St. Michel.  As I walked toward Pont du Carrousel. I remembered the homesless woman who sits in the same spot everyday. I decided that the loaf of bread was better off with her than me so I gave it to her.   I actually asked if she wanted it in French and she whispered so softly that I thought maybe she didn’t want it, but I asked again.  She once again softly said something that resembled oui, so I gave it to her anyway. 

I ended up at Monoprix, shopping for my nightly sustenance. I bought a bundle of asparagus and a package of mushrooms. I was so excited to eat those darn mushrooms, after all they are supposed to be good for the immune system. I got home and started to cook the asparagus, and of course the mushrooms were all molded. I was so very frustrated.  I had a wonderful meal without them though.

Oh! I forgot to say that while procrastinating leaving my apartment in search of Zara and food, I made myself popcorn like I would at home.  I happen to add salt and sugar. I believe caster sugar, which I hope I will be able to find at home (eh hem mom).

The Eiffel Tower and I flirt. I see him on my way to school. There is one street that I cross, I believe Charchi-Medi where he is almost completely visible, then disappears again as I continue my walk.  Today I was so close, but still did not go to see him.  I kept my eyes on his beautiful figure while walking down Quai Francois Mitterrand towards the Chaps Elysee. He poked out briefly near Roosevelt and I caught a quick glimpse of him before he hid again.

I got lost on my way to the Virgin Megastore. I went to go buy a real phone but again was turned down because I don’t have a French bank account.  I find it to be extremely hard to function without a phone, although I do have my American phone with me, and ladybug, but she only receives texts and calls.

Long story short, I left without a phone.

Our class photo was today and I forgot my pants, luckily Narges let me borrow her extra pair.  After our class photo we sat around only to wait for demo. My favorite chef made Diplomats pudding and Gâteau Basque.  I didn’t really enjoy either. I will be making only the Gâteau Basque tomorrow and will bring it to London with me for Lily and Simon. Our demo was in a different room then we usually have it in.  The demo room was next to a practical room where the cuisine students were cooking, so the demo was hijacked by the cuisine chefs.  One of the chefs was tall and more handsome than the other chefs at LCB, but a bit older (he winked at me) and the other was a squat, older man who claimed to speak some South Indian language.

That cartoon, Ben, was translating for us, and of course he didn’t let us down.  Throughout the practical, he acted like a flight attendant, showing with his hand gestures what you should do in the various steps of the Gâteau Basque.  He is quite the entertainer, although inappropriate at times. Days like these make me wasn’t to stay for intermediate. I am still assistant, which means an angry chef and a 5:30 wake up time.

I am going to London for the weekend.  That means lots of Hummingbird Bakery.

Bisous

Decquoise

It’s been a while.  I haven’t been feeling great for the last few days.  Quick side note, I’m eating my “blogging snack”, today a salad, and I really would love same avocado in it.  Too bad I’ve been spoiled rotten by the avos. I get at home. The French don’t do avocados.

Moving right along. I think that all the dairy has finally caught up with me and I’m having my usual reaction to it, which is a stuffed head. Regardless, I can’t seem to stop eating it! I can’t imagine how I would, living in Paris and attending pastry school.  Today I’ve managed to avoid it, besides the little square of 55% cocoa with mousse in the middle (heaven, but it could be a bit darker).  I’ve been having the time of my life here.  I finally feel like my life has started. I’m currently trying to figure out how to stay here for another three, and eventually six months.

Yesterday we had a new chef for our practical.  My group had a demo at 8:30 and then a practical at 3:30, so I sat around and waited for the practical in my chefs uniform. Everyone else left to go eat lunch but I brought my own lunch and I was nervous because I was class assistant with Michael, a very sweet Indonesian boy who works down in the girl’s side of the practical room.

The assistants are responsible for stocking the practical room with all of the things that are in the recipe. The eggs and milk are generally down in the stinky basement where the dishwashers are or on the 3^rd floor. Other things like fondant and almonds, in a variety of forms, are in the 3^rd floor storeroom. Michael and I headed up to the 3^rd floor storeroom where we bundled the metal round forms we needed for shaping the cakes, praline and sliced and ground almonds.  We rushed over to the dumbwaiter to send everything form the 3^rd floor to the 2^nd where the practical room was. Oh boy.  That thing is so confusing and by the looks of it we were not the only two people trying to use it. I searched for someone who could help us.  The dishwasher certainly couldn’t and didn’t want to have anything to do with my hand signs.

My favorite chef, Stanley Tucci’s twin, was there to rescue me. He told me to just carry the stuff from the upstairs pantry to the 2^nd floor. What a miracle! That dumb thing wasn’t working for me (pun intended).  I walked into the practical room and a new chef was there.  He was a little hottie.  Oh, side note, I’m over Hottie Chef, he’s played out (in my group of friends) like a hit song on the radio. This other chef on the other hand, he’s got green eyes, brown hair and well, not the best figure but he is a pastry chef.  By the end I pretty much had him eating my dacquoise out of my hand, but not really. I introduced myself to him and asked if he spoke English (some of the chefs do), he made it clear that he didn’t.  He told me that it was his second experience there.  It was my lucky day. Most other chefs yell at the assistants like no other, but he was friendly and came to me when he needed to tell the class stuff.  He called me over to read something that was in English on his phone. It said keep everything clean.  He must have thought that it was specifically for me because he kept telling me to clean my station.  Not once did he ask Michael (the other assistant) to put anything away.

We had to make these impossible roses out of marzipan to finish our dacquoise. I made a few of them and they were so heavy and ugly that I ended up balling them up and tossing them. Narges saved me and made mine for me after French man tried helping me and ended up laughing at me every time he came around the work surface. It was highly pathetic. Narges is a genius. Speaking of, in one of my first posts, I mentioned a girl who made really long skinny biscuit dough and ended up with 30 of them, she has blown all of us out of the water with her decoration/detail skills.  She would have mastered that rose. I thought that maybe I didn’t succeed because I like orchids, that’s probably nonsense but that’s what I kept telling myself. I cannot say it enough, I love my group.

At the end of class, I used my handy dandy fork, that sits in my left arm pocket to dig into my cake.  I ate about 1/8^th of the darn thing before I got out the door.  I think I drove the new chef insane because when the next group came in, I was laughing so loud that he said, “Bye Coco”.  It was time to leave.

During demo, I told the whacky translator that it was Shibani’s birthday, which it was and he said he was going to shower her with kisses during class, which I was all for. He then went on a crazy rant, as people went up to the demo table to take pictures of the cakes. He began telling me how professional he is and a whole bunch of other nonsense. He used a heck of a lot of profanity while trying to convince me of his professionalism. I didn’t know if he was being sarcastic or not.  I walked away to take a picture of the food and I heard him still babbling on. It was quite the day. Oh, and before that when Shibani and I walked into the room, we were taking our seats and all of a sudden some girl jacks my seat. This is one of the girls that completely freaks me out and always has makeup all over her chefs jacket, which is a NO NO. I gave her the seat and went to the 5^th row with Shibani. When the room was dead silent, I let out the biggest snort and everyone, including the chef, looked at me crazy. I sat down and waved at Tucci’s twin chef and he smiled and waved back.  I love that chef.

Later that night, the girls went out for drinks for Shibani’s birthday and it was a blast! We went to the Lizard Lounge, which I wasn’t that impressed with.  I was ready to get my groove on, but I ended up doing that at the end of the night in the middle of some block (yes Shibani, I said it, BLOCK) with my falafel in hand.  One illusion (nasty drink) and one dirty blonde (nasty beer) later we left and walked up the street to a famous falafel place, L’as du falafel. We got there just in time.  There was a slightly creepy man standing outside who I assume runs the place because we paid him.

A few of us ordered falafel. I began to dig into mine and half of one of my balls fell on the floor. Most of us were intoxicated, happily so when it hit the floor, all hell broke loose.

People started screaming so then the owner man came and told me, “I’ll give you two balls…one time only”.  Immediately I thought of the quirky translator, Ben that made the most outrageous hand gestures the other day.  I was on the floor for at least 5 minutes hyperventilating and crying because I was laughing so hard. While I was on the floor recovering from the laughing fit, I found this.

After the balls were spilled, the creepy man went around to each of us offering us his fresh balls that were hot. He insisted, along with Nicole that I take trade my old balls for fresh ones.

Oh what a night.

Bisous