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