Sleepy post, hottie

I cannot stomach listening to anything other than Springsteen at the moment. I’m so sick of my music.  All I need is Bruce, wine and the view from my apartment, and maybe a break from all this delicious butter and sugar combinations some call pastry. 

I started my morning by looking at the weather.  I know it’s been hot some days but today was a scorcher! 85 degrees and everyone and their mother was out.  It was quite nice seeing people interacting and sitting in cafes eating ice cream. I guess everyone has returned from vacation.  How civilized that everyone leaves in August on vacation. 

I warn you, that if you hear any new phrases or words, like civilized or saucy, it’s the Shibani in me.

After, I picked out a lovely dress to sweat on the metro in. Post wardrobe scavenger hunt I ate some bananas, apples and yogurt. I have never had better yogurt.  I opened the gold top to the little glass bottle. At first I thought it was Crème fraîche because of the thick texture but I tasted a little and it was like heaven. Consider it the consistency of Fage (Greek yogurt) but with a slightly sweet, vanilla flavor.  I’m sick of sweet but this was just perfect, it was a tad sweet but a little more tangy. It was perfect.  PERFECT.

Well, this morning I had practical with hottie.  I think I should clarify. He is attractive but its his knowledge, passion and confidence that make him that hot.  Today I was ultra nervous to make this St. Honore, which is basically a tower of Chantilly cream with some pastry balls. We got into class and Chef told us again what the steps were and how to make it. Hearing him say it instead of him watching over us after ordering us to start our pastry was helpful. He’s not very tall, he’s sort of stalky, which for a French guy is, I think rare, since all the guys I’ve really seen look like 14-year-old boys. He has beautiful light blue eyes, and when we make eye contact, even if it’s him yapping at me about what I did wrong, I feel like I have to look away because he can read my mind.

So we made the sweet pastry dough first then rolled it out into a circle, cut it out with a tart mold and refrigerated it. Then we made choux pastry.  He came and piped my balls for me, well at least some of them, and he told me how to hold the pastry bag.  On top of being cute, he’s the best instructor we’ve had so far.  He actually helps up and tells us techniques, unlike the other chef we had that just runs around the kitchen screaming “putin”, but never about me.

This was my final product.

And this is what I had for dinner last night

Today I was craving something fresh that didn’t include flour, sugar or butter so after class I scooted over to Rose Bakery. This metro thing is awesome, but not when you have to switch trains.  I was in a car on the M 11 and I don’t think we could have fit one more person in there. I had someone’s butt on my hip and another person’s sweaty armpit in my face (YUCK). It was pretty amusing.  That line is actually the most modern, well compared to the one that looked like a NYC subway. That didn’t help the fact that in that ride from Chalete to Hotel de Ville we were so jam packed, no one held on to anything because there was no way any of us would fall over.  Regardless, I got lost on my way to Rose.  By the time I had walked in 5 circles/squares, they only had pastries and cucumber salad left, oh and beet salad (ICKY).  I settled with the cucumber, celery root salad and scarfed it down. The woman must have thought I hadn’t eaten for days, and quite honestly it was so nice eating something fresh.

I went to pay for my salad and I started talking to the woman. It turns out that she is also from Southern California, specifically Palos Verdes and knows many people that I know, mostly people I played soccer with. What a small world.

I wandered around some more then walked back home.  About an hour later I met Narges to go to dinner with Virginia and her friend Olga in the 3^rd, where I spent most of my day. We had a lovely dinner at a small restaurant called… goui? I don’t remember and it doesn’t matter because they had some sorry excuse for risotto with some large spherical grain and it almost tasted like a wanna be mac and cheese.

This is a very exhausted post.  Hottie even had the audacity today to say “enjoy your weekend”.  Listen here, my last 3 years in college, my weekend was Thursday through Monday, so don’t call one Sunday off a weekend. Yup you heard me. 

Also, a small detail, there is no ventilation in our locker room in the basement.  Today I walked in and there was a girl, who had been whipping her Chantilly cream on the floor today, changing. As I walked towards her she sneezed and I’m talking about no coverage and those germs were lingering for the next few years.  She and I were the only ones in there and she looked at me and I turned and walked out.  I returned after five minutes, but oh lord was I less than thrilled to be down there.

Bisous 

Don't hate, appreciate. 

PS this is what I saw on my walk home.