Cutting to the chase

So I'm a real live, honest-to-goodness, culinary student.


I know, many of you are waiting with bated breath for the head-to-toe shot, the one with the checked pants, the apron, and yes, the hat. That too will come. The hat is required only in the practical classes, not the demonstration classes, and guess where this photo was taken...

But yes, days one and two -- so far, so good. After orientation yesterday, my French language skills were put to the test as I had to find a tailor and get my chef's pants hemmed. Apparently, my French is coming back quickly, because everyone keeps commenting on how good it is, and how good my accent is (thanks, Louisiana public schools...) -- and I managed to get my pants hemmed in just a couple of hours!

Today we received our recipe book and course materials. Interestingly, a recipe here is merely a list of ingredients ... it is up to us to pay attention in the demonstration class, and write down whatever we think we'll need to know to recreate the dish in the practical session. For me, this is a great teaching method -- because it forces you to both hear the material, and write down what's important. I've always been someone who learns by writing, so this really helps things sink in. The other great thing about pedagogy at LCB is that the demonstration course is lectured in French, and translated into English. So those of us who understand both languages get to hear instructions and explanations twice ... and, those of us whose French is merely comme ci, comme ca get daily intensive practice in comprehension! French lessons and culinary lessons for the price of one! (And practical classes are solely in French, so it's really sink or swim time!)

Lesson one was Potage Cultivateur, a rustic vegetable soup that served as a vehicle for teaching us knife skills and the four basic cuts -- paysanne, mirepoix, brunoise, julienne. The other keys -- making sure each of the ingredients was cooked for the proper amount of time, and proper seasoning.


Chef Bruno pronounced mine "tres tres bien"! Two "tres"!!

Anyway, I'm enjoying leftovers, along with a baguette and some red wine, for dinner. Things could be worse...

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In other news, my luggage arrived Sunday night. And I think I've almost finalized an apartment for the summer. These are good things.

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I've been doing a lot of walking around the city in my free time. I always find it's a good way to get a sense of how a city is laid out, and how neighborhoods connect to each other -- and for those of you who know my sense of direction, you know just how important that is! So the past couple of days, I've spent hours wandering ... through the 15th, 7th, 6th, and 5th arrondissements. I'm beginning to feel like I know the city, at least a little, and that's exciting. I haven't really learned a new city in nearly a decade, and it's exhilarating and fun and even confidence-building. (Also, it keeps me in shape, given all of the cheese and butter and bread and chocolate I'm eating...)

So, I wandered by Hotel des Invalides ... and nearby a building once inhabited by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (which brought a smile to my face, as a very close friend recently gave me a gorgeous copy of Le Petit Prince) ... strolled by the Musee Rodin, which I remember loving on my last trip here (and to which I intend to make a return visit), and the Jardin du Luxembourg (where I'm hoping to jog on the days I don't take multi-hour jaunts through town).


These walks have made me think about the long, long walks we used to take on family trips in Tokyo, Shanghai, Bangkok, and other cities throughout Asia. At the time, my sister and I thought of them as death marches ... never-ending treks with no goal in sight that made us miserable. But now I wonder if they were, for my dad (the trek-leader), the same thing that my walks in Paris the past couple of days are for me -- a way to explore a place that affords you a better sense of a city's culture than merely rushing from place to place, from museum to shopping area to restaurant. As an uneager participant in such walks, they seemed interminable. As the architect, I'm pleasantly surprised each day when I look up, and realize I'm halfway across the city, and hours have passed. (So dad, sorry 'bout the complaining...)

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One more thing. After orientation yesterday, I decided I was in the mood for non-French food. So I stopped into Le Banyan (24, place Etienne Pernet 75015 Paris; tel: 01 40 60 09 31) for lunch. Le Banyan is a lovely little Thai restaurant that I'd read about in both the Michelin guide and Zagats, and their 14 euro lunch special couldn't be beat. I had marinated and grilled chicken brochettes with peanut sauce; a spicy coleslaw made with fish sauce (that was billed as Thai salad); beef sauteed with basil (one of the best renditions of this dish I've ever had); and sauteed noodles with vegetables. I wavered on whether to add dessert to this great deal, but couldn't be happier that I did -- I enjoyed what was by far the best execution of mango on sticky rice I have ever encountered. Rice cooked al dente and held together in a pudding of sorts by thick coconut milk, topped with sweet mango slices, fresh coconut, and a brunoise of strawberries (look at me using my newfound culinary knowledge already...) Wow, I may just go back for that dessert the next time I'm craving something you can't buy in a patisserie!