The End is Near

But the strike goes on

The end of last week slipped quietly by. No new dramas or shenanigans. But this week—which is my last week of actual classes, got off to a bangin’ start. Monday we had seven hours of class and today 10 hours. It has been a fast start to the end.

We have made three things already from the last time I wrote and they are pictured below. Two of them are salmon in different preparations. One is stuffed with another fish mixed with cream and spices, on a bed of cabbage and ginger (which frankly, was the best part of the dish). The other is a piece of salmon, encased in a terrine of another type of fish, also mixed with cream, spices and spinach and topped with a delicious beurre blanc sauce and baked in the oven. You will be relieved to know that finally my sauce turned out perfect. Though, I am getting a little tired of preparing salmon in all its infinite possibilities. The third is pretty self explanatory and satisfying. Bring me the Boeuf!

The only hitch in my cooking this week, was that we had to pipe the stuffing into the terrine today (photo 2), on which the salmon lay for his last hurrah—no problemo. After Chef had judged my preparation “bon” from the outside—he cut himself a slice, and the unforgivable happened. He bit into what looked like a perfectly prepared terrine of salmon and then he spit out what was obviously a piece of plastic. Sacré Bleu! I just can’t catch a break. Sadly, there was a piece of the plastic pastry bag that I used to pipe the filling just baked right in there. For the love of God people. He was aghast, and for once I had no defense. It was an error worth firing someone over (me in this case) and I deserved it. I have no idea how it happened. It is always necessary to cut the pastry bag at the tip to fit your pastry nozzle and I guess a little piece just fell in to thwart me. Maybe it’s a sign—to go home. Haven’t gotten a grade for that one yet but it is not going to be good. Unless he has a plastic fetish I don’t know about. Not counting on that BTW.

Today was our last lecture and tomorrow will be the last thing we cook prior to next week’s exam. I can’t believe I am nearing the end! Of course it wouldn’t be near the end without another strike, and when I came out of the metro today—which was not supposed to be running—the strikers were in full force right down Blvd. St. Germain. They were wearing their ubiquitous vests and music was playing and I definitely smelled marijuana. Not sure who was driving the metro today, but seriously hoping he/she/it was not at the strike beforehand. It looked entertaining though. People brought their kids—probably because school is canceled on strike days; it’s like the equivalent of a snow day in Texas.

But anyway, everybody who is anybody in Paris was there. I wonder if they are going out to dinner afterward, because I was kind of hoping to celebrate my second to last day of school with my daughter; who actually goes to school in Ireland, but is here more than she is there. We were discussing the merits of steak and frites, and I am thinking of this tiny place with a red awning, that is walking distance from the apartment, and would make the perfect venue for indulging in a beefy-starchy comfort dinner!

No traffic can pass and the road is filled with people!

Oh—one last thing. After the final lecture today, Chef insisted on taking a photo of our group. This includes Group A, B, and of course, yours truly, Group C. We are missing those who ran before the photo could be snapped. I hate to judge us— but we are not a beautiful group. This photo was taken at 5pm Paris time and we have been at school since 7am this morning and have cooked two different dishes and attended two lectures. It was a long day and the only thing we did to spruce up was to take off our hair nets.

Groups A, B, and C. Can you tell who is the top chef?