Breaking the Kitchen Code

Julie P and I spent two days in Paris before heading off to Florence for a few days. 

I made us a reservation at Les Fables de la Fontaine, since this is where we had one of our best and most cherished memories during our trip to France last May.  In many ways, that experience was a big part of the snowball of events that led to me moving here.  But that’s for another day!

Julie started the evening off by waving enthusiastically across the room at the head chef (who I’m positive had no clue who we were) as if we were long lost BFF’s.   

Then I went to the opposite end of the spectrum by breaking some sort of kitchen code and insulting him by ignoring the pecking order in the kitchen.  I went back to say hello to Alberto, the sous-chef, who I’d seen a couple times already since moving here.  The last time when I ate there, Alberto told me I should have come back during dinner to say hello.  Of course, I imagined they would be super busy cooking and it would be all crazy, which is why I had waited till the end of the night.

So I told him when we came in this time, I’d come say hi during the meal.  Well JUST AS I FEARED, when I went back there, there were flames flying, pots and pans banging, it was 1,000 degrees, the head chef shouted “Salut!” (“Hey!”) in what sounded like an annoyed tone, Alberto gave me this panicked look while shaking his head as if to say “Now is a horrible time”, and I just got all nervous and panicked and started speaking to Alberto in French, even though we always speak in English, quickly blurted out in French: “You’re-busy-sorry-justwantedtosayhi”, and I ran out of the kitchen w/out so much as looking at the head chef.   

I found out at the end of the evening that you’re always supposed to address the head chef in the kitchen, not anyone else, so when I didn’t so much as look at him after he said hi and started mumbling to Alberto in my panic of nervousness, I basically ignored him, broke rank, and insulted him in one fail swoop.  How was I supposed to know the rules???  And anyway FLAMES were flying and it was crazy!!

Anyway, the meal was delicious, one of my favorite meals to date.  The first course was a set of basil wrapped prawns lightly fried...

The second course was a melon gazpacho with swordfish topped w/ a carrot foam,

The third course was sole meuniere, asparagus w/ morel mushrooms, and creamy buttery whipped potatoes from heaven...

and the dessert was a wasabi white chocolate something or other that sounds weird but was delicious. Clearly we ate it too fast to even think about taking a picture. 

The fish & asparagus were cooked perfectly, the potatoes, as mentioned, were butter heaven…it was just all around outstanding.  Julie and I just stared in disbelief and made intelligent commentary like “wow” and “oh my gosh” over and over.  We should be food critics. 

We spent our two mornings at cafes w/ croissants & coffees, wandered cute streets, and stayed up way later than this old lady is accustomed to.  It was a blast!  Then we went to Florence…coming up next!

The Duffel of Life

Over one month behind.  Good pace.  I'm really keeping up here.  I swear it feels like Julie P was here last week.  And now we're in June.  Who has put this time thing in fast forward??? 

Today marks 3 months of being in Paris, and I can't believe it.  Happy Anniversary, Paris.  (Monthiversary, if we're being technical.)

Back to "last week" (in my head. Last month in real life)...Julie P came to visit me!!! Yayyyyy!!

We had a joyous reunion in the courtyard of my apartment building where we screamed and yelled and squealed and hugged in really high pitched tones until a French man leaned out of his window and chastised us because he was on the phone. 

Julie brought with her what I like to call "the duffel bag of life".  It was SO exciting, it was like Christmas morning!! 

I made the mistake of assuming that March/April/May this year would be like last year...cold, cold, and more cold.  Last May, I had to buy two jackets and wore tights and boots and scarves the whole time.  So I only brought winter clothes with me when I moved here, thinking that Julie could bring me a bag of Spring/Summer clothes when she came in May.  WRONG. Mistake. Loser.  Right here. 

Paris has had an unusually early & warm spring, so I spent weeks going to work wearing boots & jeans in 75-degree weather, sweating every day and sometimes taking off my boots and walking around the office in socks & skinny jeans (attractive) bc I thought I might burst into flames. 

This is also right around the time when I broke down and just started wearing tennis shoes & running shorts to work, thus breaking the previously sworn oath to myself that I'd never wear tennis shoes in Paris unless I was exercising.  (Because, as previously mentioned, it's like wearing snorkeling gear when you're not snorkeling. Weird, inappropriate, embarrassing.)  It was a good 7 years of never having worn tennis shoes or a t-shirt in France.  Ever.  Not once.  Took about two weeks of working at Fat Tire to throw that out the window.   

Finally, when I realized the warm weather was here to stay and I would NOT be able to wait a month and a half until JP got here...I went to H&M and got a pair of shorts and some summery shoes.  That one pair of shorts and shoes has lasted me until the glorious arrival of the Duffel of Life. 

Spring clothes!  Shorts!  Dresses!  Sandals!  Skirts!  Sleeveless things!!  I wept over the bag in joy and put everything on at once.  Not really. 

Here are some of the other super exciting and joyful things I received from dear friends and family:

France is not big on spicy things, and I am!!  Ground Cayenne pepper, red pepper flakes, hot peppers from Pot Belly (Yayyyy!! Spicyness!!).  And crunchy peanut butter - not because I miss peanut butter (hello, I have Nutella!), but because this jar will provide me many many cheap lunches with a 2 euro loaf of sandwich bread.  How else can you get protein and feel full for about 30 cents per sandwich?  The jar is reaching its end already, it has fed me well.

I won't bore you with the other things that nearly made me weep with excitement (like a big plastic cup because I drink tons of water and the only glasses you can find in France are all the size of dixie cups.)  Let's just say, it was joyful.  Thanks to all who contributed, it brought much happiness!!

Enough about my DUFFEL BAG.  I swear I start typing, and suddenly, I'm like, "What am I talking about?? Why have I chosen to share this?  This is not an adventure in Paris.  This is duffel bag contents/hairball in a drain/weird stuff in my dried soup mix.  No one cares."  I should change my blog title to "Stupid Stuff No One Cares About in Paris."  I apologize, let's move on to Florence.  Next post.