One Month in Paris: Bien Propre

After almost a month in Paris I have decided to start a blog. A way to make a record of the restaurants I've been to, sights I've seen, shenanigans that have ensued, and my development into a full fledged foodie.

My Parisian adventure began on January 2, 2011 when my mom and I arrived in Paris.  After our over-night flight from New York we checked in to our medieval-style hotel on Rue Bourg Tibourg in the Marais.  Our room was so small my suitcase didn't fit in it.  I could barely stand next to the bed and the "lamp," if you can even call it that, gave off less light than a birthday candle.  We dropped off our things (I took a nap, of course) and began roaming Paris to explore my new city.

While my mom was here we tested out several delicious eateries.  My favorite sit-in boulangerie on the corner of rue Bourg Tibourg and Rue Verrerie, Le Petite Marche on rue Bearn, L'as du Falafel (a staple) on rue Rosiers, and Les Papilles on Rue Gay-Lussac in the 5e.  So far, nothing to complain about- 67 amazing meals in 3 days?  I could get used to this!

During her stay my mom also helped me set up my apartment.  For that we discovered BHV- Bazaar de Hotel de Ville - which is the world's greatest department store, with everything from Maje to shampoo.  At BHV we found everything we needed to make my entirely red apartment feel like home.

On Tuesday, school started.  At orientation we went on a tour of the kitchens, met all the chefs, and got a chance to size up our peers.  There were some serious looking people there and I admittedly got a little nervous.  What had I gotten myself into?  Luckily, there were a few friendly faces in the crowd.  Lee, who I had met in french class at FIAF in New York, walked in with his brother Dani.  We were in the same orientation group which was a nice comfort in this strange new place.  Amy, who I had met through email back in New York, quickly found me and introduced herself.  Another friendly face!

On Thursday things got cooking.  We had our first demonstration and practical: vegetable potage.  With lardons of course.  This recipe was an exercise in cutting vegetables; we cut everything into tiny, thin triangles.  What a pain in the ass.  As this was my first foray into Cordon Bleu cooking, I figured I'd use my own culinary know how to make the dish my own.  Wrong.  I put my lardons in the pan and started to brown them, because who doesn't like crispy bacon?  The french, that's who!  "Pas de coloration," the chef said.  "Oui, Chef," I replied.  Strike one.  Then, on to seasoning.  A little salt, a little pepper... Wrong again!  When the chef came to taste my potage he immediately began to cough, sort of like Ben Stiller in Zoolander when he has "the black lung."  "Cough, cough, il y a beaucoup de poivre! Cough, cough" whispered the chef.  "Oui, Chef," I said.  Strike two.  Oy vey! This is going to be harder than I thought...

Lesson two: lemon sole.  Now this sounded like something I could get into.  I love sole, I love lemon.  Great, can't wait.  Wrong round 3!  We had to take apart the entire fish.  Cut out the gills, scrape off the scales, pull out its insides, chop up the bones for stock, remove the egg sacs, and cut out the fillets.  Gross!  Needless to say, I didn't eat fish for a week after that experience.  The only good thing to come out of lemon sole was Ali.  While hacking away at fish carcass she splattered me with guts and we became instant friends.  We now cook next to each other every day and are pretty much inseparable.  We sometimes even get shushed by the chef for talking and having fun in the kitchen.  Ahh friendship.

Soon-to-be dead crabs.

On to chicken with sauce supreme and rice au gras; an entirely beige meal.  Then pissaladiere, quiche lorraine, puff pastry with leeks, a poached egg and albufera sauce, beef consomme, crab bisque (which entails chopping up live crabs with a cleaver, a la the french chef in The Little Mermaid when he tries to kill Sebastian, and putting their still moving mangled bodies into a scorching hot pan), and grilled salmon with potatoes byron.

So far it's been an incredible immersion into french cooking.  I've killed animals, used more butter in one month than I could have ever imagined, and started to make myself at home in Paris.  As a bonus I get to spend my days with people who love to talk about food and know how to cook it.  Sounds good to me!