Le Cordon Bleu

My friend Jessica and her family very generously treated me to a class this weekend at Le Cordon Bleu, the famed cooking school where Julia Child got her start. It was definitely an experience that I will not soon forget.

Here are my supplies... we are making lamb stew with white beans.

This is me before the class. If I look a little greasy, it's because I hadn't showered in a few days. Showers are not big in France. The apron I'm wearing? I get to keep it!

 

 

 

This is Chef Terrien, our instructor. If you picture a stereotypical French chef, this guy is it. He didn't speak much English, so we had a translator during the class. He started by demonstrating how to cut the fat off the lamb shoulder. He explained that they get lambs that like to run so that there is not much fat.

 

 

My lamb did not like to run. I had the fattest lamb of the bunch. It took me a while to cut the fat off. It was at this point that the translator told me I was getting too far behind. The next hour or so was a flurry of activity. The students tried to keep up, the chef walked around to help us, and several assistants ran around the kitchen saying, "oui, chef, oui" as a subordinate would address a military officer.



 

We got a bit of a break while the stew cooked in the oven. I met some interesting people, many of whom were in Paris on their own for one reason or another. And then, voila! Lamb stew with white beans.

 

The chef suggested we let the dish sit for a day. I had some for dinner tonight, and it was indeed delicious. And look at this! A certificate of participation from Le Cordon Bleu. I assume everyone got a certificate of participation, and my slow fat cutting skills did not deprive me of some higher honor.

 

I didn't take many pictures of the actual cooking process because, well, I was cooking. Here's what we did for those who are interested.

 

-Cut the fat off the lamb shoulder (hopefully it has already been deboned for you by a Le Cordon Bleu assistant) and cut into large chunks

-Chop up onion and garlic and keep them separate (learning how to properly cut onion and garlic is one lesson I will be taking away from cooking class)

-Cut a peeled tomato in half and squeeze out the seeds. Chop finely and set aside

-Add butter to a saucepan and cook onions

-Brown the meat in oil and add to the onions

-Add tomato, garlic, and tomato paste

-Add a big spoon of flour and stir

-Add water and veal stock (my new friend Dawn made the mistake of telling the Chef she doesn't eat veal. This does not translate to French).

-Boil and stir

-Make a bouquet garnier and let simmer

-Put in the oven for an hour

-Cook beans with a carrot, shallot, garlic, and cloves for about half an hour

-Remove the lamb from the oven-- you should be able to cut with a fork

-Remove the meat with a fork and strain the sauce

-Return the sauce to the meat and add water if needed

-Return to stove and let simmer

-Remove the carrot, shallot, garlic, and onion from the beans and drain beans

-Add beans to meat and sauce

 

Bon Appetit!

Hot Weekend Part 2

I had more museums planned for Sunday, but after the Louvre on Friday evening and two more museums on Saturday, I was museumed out. Instead, I decided to go to one of Paris' public pools. I wasn't the only one with this idea.

I waited an hour and a half to get in (a very hot hour and a half, I might add). But I was there for an authentic Parisian experience, and the Parisians were lining up. Pregnant women don't have to wait in line. At one point I considered faking it before I rememberd my limited French.

The boat is literally on the Seine. It looks like a barge. This is the entrance:

The wait was well worth it. I cooled off in the pool for a couple hours and took in the Seine.

Then I read on the sun deck for a bit.

As much as I enjoyed my authentic French public pool experience, the afternoon left me feeling very grateful for D.C.'s line free public pools.

Hot Weekend Part 1

I've been pretty lucky in that the temperature has barely climbed above 80 since I've been in Paris. Which is a good thing, because I don't have air conditioning in my apartment, nor is it common in most cafes or stores. The metro is deathly hot even on a cool day. So I was not looking forward to a weekend when the weather forecast called for temperatures reaching 100.

On Saturday, I planned a day of museums and shopping. Which kind of worked. I started out at the Army Museum and Napoleon's Tomb. An interesting musuem that would have benefited from a little more context rather than military relics. Although perhaps I am just woefully uninformed about Napoleon, all the Louis, WWI, and WWII.

I went next door to the Rodin Museum only to learn that the museum is not air conditioned. I saw some interesting sculptures, and although no one has ever called me an artist, I thought the claim that Rodin was second only to Michelangelo was a bit far-fetched. I appreciated The Thinker, but the statues of all the women hiding their faces in shame and attempting to conceal their pregnancies was a bit much.

I liked his hands sculpture, and I thought his gardens were pretty.

Drenched in sweat, I headed to Paris' two large department stores: Galleries Lafayette and Printemps. Blessedly, both were adequately air conditioned. I browsed, I compared the selection to my own shopping malls at home, per instructions in my Rick Steves guidebook. I admired the view from the top. A good day, and I met my goal of staying cool for maybe half the day.

Sandcastles on the Seine

Happy Assumption Day! In layman's terms, today is the day we celebrate Mary the Virgin Mother's assumption into heaven. In French terms, no work today!

Instead, I headed to the Paris "beaches." The city shuts down part of a highway along the Seine and brings in sand, along with beach chairs, ice cream stands, and a spray area. I received a pamplet today informing me that I could also stop by the tent for treatment for "infections sexuellement transmissibles." It's truly an all-inclusive experience!

In honor of Julia Child's 100th birthday, I started re-reading My Life in France and drank some wine on the beach.



There was a Mary parade for the pious complete with a Mary replica and religious music. Kind of like Mount Pleasant on Good Friday! The sinners watched from the beach and sipped their wine.

There were a ton of families at the beach today. The kids build sandcastles with bottled water. There's also a spout where they can fill their buckets.

 A tour boat came by and took pictures of the beachgoers, so I thought it only fair to take pictures of them.

 It was a blustery day, so at times the "beaches" felt more like "sand storms." All in all though, a great spot to read and people watch. And don't worry, I'll be working Labor Day and Columbus Day.

Mosquee de Paris

You can't go more than a few blocks in Paris without running into a centuries old church and sometimes a long line to get in. Paris' only mosque take a little more searching, but there's no line. What's more, they have Hammam baths that are open to the public. I went Saturday morning and for 43 euros you get entrance to the baths, black salt, a massage, a body scrub, and mint tea (I hate tea, so I skipped the last part).
Visiting the baths is like stepping into the Middle East (or so I imagine, I've never actually been to the Middle East). The walls are covered with tiles and stained glass windows. You go through a series of rooms like saunas, mostly covered in marble, that get progressively warmer. The first room has marble enclaves where you adjust to the heat and relax. Then you move into the back room with warmer marble on one side and an even warmer area with a cold pool. Initially the room feels unbearably hot, especially around the pool. After a while it feels wonderful. I spent two hours between the pool and the sauna rooms with some black salt in between. My skin felt amazing afterwards, and I don't know that I've ever been so relaxed. I'm hoping one of my guests wants to go so that I can justify another visit. Photos aren't allowed inside, so you'll have to use your imagination.

Afterwards I had lunch at the cafe. I ordered chicken cous cous and they brought a feast.

The Last Day

On Sunday, Charles had to go back to the States. I implored him to quit his job and become a Gentleman Who Lunches in Paris, but he decided three months of fun wasn't worth long-term unemployment.

We spent our last full day in Paris climbing Notre Dame.

I got claustrophobic on the last climb up to the highest tower (to be fair, who wouldn't? You're climbing an increasingly narrow spiral staircase with no windows and people crowding from the front and the back). On the way down, Charles walked ten steps behind me with arms on either rail to hold back the hoards of tourists so I wouldn't feel closed in. No small feat. How will I survive without him to protect me from the crowds?

We hit up a traveling King Tut exhibit on the outskirts of Paris only to find that the expo included only replicas. We didn't take pictures of the fake rosetta stone.

We had dinner at Willi's Wine Bar on the recommendation of a colleague who travels to Paris often and took a walk home along the Seine beaches.

I took an artsy bridge photo that reminded me of Midnight in Paris.



And some impressive sand castle work...

The next day we made a sad trip to Charles de Gaulle, and I started counting down days until the next visit.

So now I'm three days into Paris on my own, working rather than vacationing. I think it's going fairly well. On Monday I walked home along the Seine. Yesterday I went to the local market to buy produce, the fromagerie for cheese, and the bakery for a baguette and made a delicious dinner. Tonight I meeting up with a new friend that Charles found for me through a friend who used to live in France.



Adventuring while Katie works

Katie started her job here on Wednesday.  On the first two days I dropped her off to work, and then went exploring.  You can tell by the look on Katie's face that she didn't think it was fair. 

A few blocks away is the Musee Marmottan Monet.  This is a museum I had never heard of, but I decided to explore.  It turns out Marmottan was a rich guy that died in the 1930's and bequeathed his town home to the French Academy of Fine Arts along with his collection of First Empire paintings and furniture as a museum. 

Fortunately, the French Academy of Fine Arts has decided to add things to the museum, and they have relegated Marmottan's collections largely to the upstairs.   I am sure it would be a little depressing for Marmottan to have his collection stuck in the attic, but without having done so I doubt anyone would see his collection.  Seriously, anyone out there a First Empire fan?  Anyone?
What now fills the museum's basement and first floor are a number of art collections.  Most notably Monet's second son Michel donated his father's collection of paintings to the museum.  They included representative works over Monet's entire career.   A couple of the smaller ones that I liked are shown below; however, there were around 60 paintings by Monet of all sizes, eras and compositions.

 Additional collections were donated by the heir of George de Bellio who was a doctor for many of the impressionist.  Also two of the grandchildren of Berthe Morisot donated her works and art collection to the museum.  Unfortunately most of these works were in a gallery that was being remodeled.  I love Berthe Morisot, and luckily they had a few of her works sprinkled throughout the museum. 

Following the museum I walked in the Bois de Boulogne for a while. 

After the Bois de Boulogne, I ended up at Rolland Garros.   Following that I made my way through the city toward the Arc de Triomphe.  Along the way I decided to stop at a restaurant for lunch.  It wasn't more than 2 minutes before I heard my name.  Katie and her coworkers had come to the same restaurant!  Following lunch, I made my way to Avenue Foch.  I walked along Avenue Foch to the Arc de Triomphe. 

The next day I dropped Katie off to work, and made my way to Sacre Coeur.  Apparently starting work was more agreeable with her on her second day. 

Tuesday morning was a much better time to visit Sacre Coeur.   While there were tourists, it wasn't overrun to the point of being oppressive.

I decided to climb up to the dome, up three hundred spiral stone steps.  One of the highlights of the top was noted by a couple of Australian tourists.  A girl in her twenties had made the ascent in 4 inch high heels.     

After Sacre Coeur,  I wandered around and found another interesting church.  L'eglise Saint Jean l'Evangeliste.  The rest I will leave for Katie to fill you in about as those adventures included her.







What's in a name?

Once again I am guest blogging.  Since we have been in Paris, one movie has been promoted more than any other.  That movie is called Sexy Dance 4.  You may be wondering how the US missed out on such a blockbuster; however, in the US that movie is called Step Up Revolution.  Not to sound snarky, but I imagine being dubbed in French will improve the plot.

With the way it is being promoted here,  I imagine it will rival Batman's opening.  It makes me wonder if the movie would have been more successful in the US if it had been called Sexy Dance 4.  Thoughts?

Lines in Paris

This is Charles filling in for Katie.  She's busy at work, so I get to blog.
Since we have been in Paris, we have come across a number of lines.  Often we just pass on by: a couple of hundred people waiting to go into Notre Dame, another couple of hundred people waiting to go up Notre Dame, several hundred people waiting to go into the Louvre.   Yesterday while walking around when Katie was at work,  I discovered a line that became its own attraction.  

These are people lined up to go into the Abercrombie and Fitch Store on the Champs-Elysees.  While I was sad to see so many people lined up like that,  I was delighted to see a number of people stopping to take pictures of the people waiting in line.

Bistrot d'Henri

We went to dinner tonight at a bistro in St. Germain to celebrate my first day of work. It was a tiny little place that Charles' friend Hannah recommended.

We had some fantasic Pinot Noir.

I had the beouf bourgogne. Delicious.

We walked home along the Seine as the sun went down.

Definitely recommend Bistro d'Henri if you find yourself in Paris.