It’s been an extremely long week, so my trip to London tomorrow could not be more perfectly timed!
We had found tickets online for a steal, a few weeks ago, and will be leaving early tomorrow morning and returning the next afternoon.
36 hours of eating.
On the agenda: High tea, fish and chips, St. John, the Hummingbird Bakery, dim sum…
I also heard they speak English over there.
Back in August 2011, about three months into my life at St. Bonnet, I remember the beginnings of going stir-crazy.
The beautiful mountains and fresh air of Auvergne had grown old- we had no real summer in St. Bonnet le Froid. A “nice” summer day was still one where you had to bundle up, and often squint to shield your eyes from wind. The long hours were wearing on me and I had long ago grown tired of seeing the same people day after day. I was bored senseless, living in a town where the cows outnumbered the people, and worse, living in a place where my “kitchen” is ovenless and consists of two hot plates. On top of all that, I remember being supremely lonely and homesick.
So when the opportunity to meet up with a couple of old friends and co-workers from Toronto in the south of France for a couple of days, I was all over it. The odds were all against me.
St. Bonnet is conveniently located only about a 45 minute drive from the closest train station. However, there are no mini trains or bus that lead to said station. I remember begging my chef to drive me…at 5:30 in the morning. What a great guy. My weekend was only Monday and Tuesday. So I took the first train Monday, arrived at around noon, and then had to head back at around 3pm Tuesday. It was 10 hours of traveling within two days, and the tickets cost me about a hundred-ish euros. For sunshine and friends, it was worth it.
We ended up in the twin towns of Fréjus and St. Raphaël in the Côte d’Azur. The towns itself were quite touristy, its main draw being the beautiful beach. Stepping out of the train station and feeling the warmth of actual summer on my face was one of the best feelings in a long time. I was already dreading having to inevitably return to St. Bonnet the next day.
I had met up with Adam and Melissa, old friends and co-workers from Buca. It had been ages since we’ve met, but I couldn’t think of a better reunion than in the south of France. The day and a half we spent together was in true spirit of carpe diem. There was frolicking in the Mediterrean, ridiculous amounts of ice cream, napping on powdery white sand, a stroll through the night market, stories, and fireworks.
And this. Continue reading
I never really understood the love people have for apple pie. Or any fruit pies in general.
It just seems too simple to me. Pastry and cooked fruit.
I don’t even like cooked fruit. I enjoy texture and brightness, and for me, baking, steaming, or poaching fruit, sends them to an inevitable death of intolerable sweet mushiness. In terms of apple pie in a nostalgic sense, my mom never made any pies, nor do I have any fond childhood memories of them.
As for the pies that I have eaten so far in my life, they’re nothing but repressed memories of overly sweet, muddy fruit enveloped by a pie pastry that is either too dry, too crumbly, too thick and doughy, or too thin and soggy.
Yet I know the perfect pie exists- it has to, people love pies.
I imagine that if I were to have a good apple pie, it would be this: a nicely browned, buttery crust that crumbles just slightly under your fork, giving way to a filling of apples that arent too sweet but still full of flavour, not mushy, but tender. The dough is flaky, but sturdy, with a hint of salt to balance out the natural juices in the fruit.
It makes me think then, about how something so simple can be extraordinary and just okay at the same time.
The thing is, when you’re making something simple, there’s nowhere to hide. It’s all about technique and ingredients. Continue reading
I did a lot of tourist-y things last weekend.
While my friend Vince was in town, we showed him Paris as we know it while helping him cross off things on his list. There was walking along the Champs Élysée, a visit to Notre Dame, getting lost in Père Lachaise and even a nice evening cruise on the Seine.
Seeing the Iron Lady sparkle on the hour, every hour, just doesn’t get old. Somehow, it’s even more magical when you’re looking at it with someone who’s seeing it for the first time.
One of the many patisseries we took him to was of course, my homeboy Pierre Hermé. Continue reading
I’m about to play hostess for the next four days.
My friend Vince from Canada, is currently studying commercial music in Glasgow. He has some time off from school, and so he’ll be hopping on a plane tomorrow to hang out here. It’ll be his first time ever in France.
It’s going to be interesting showing him around a city that’s still unfamiliar to me, and whose profound metro system I’ve yet to decipher. Still, I’m excited to have someone to share my discoveries of Paris with so far. It’ll be refreshing to explore the city I live in with new eyes.
When he told me of his plan to come, a few months back, I remember telling him flat out:
“Sounds great! Listen, the Louvre, Notre Dame, all that stuff..you can do while I’m at work. I’ll give you the food and pastry tour.”
Oh, I will.
In a city where there are literally boulangeries on every street, its impossible to never be without fresh bread.
But even in Paris, not all boulangeries are necessarily created equal. There are neighbourhood boulangeries, where you can easily pick up a decent loaf of baguette on the way home from work, and then there are those that you need to cross town for that extra special pain de something.
On my hit-list this weekend, was getting a taste of Pain des Amis, at a boulangerie Bruce heard about at work called Du Pain et Des Idées. Continue reading
I bought some toothpaste today.
I feel the need to share this, because it’s amazing how quickly things can shift and change. Continue reading
After yet another delightful lunch prepared by my friend Aurelie’s adorable grandparents, I was pacing around the house in attempt to digest the wonderful meal.
Lunch was possibly the best salmon I had ever had. It was fresh and cooked lovingly, with perfectly crispy but not oily skin, and tender flesh. Seasoned with salt and pepper, the only thing it needed. Accompanying it was vegetables from the garden- sweet peas, heirloom carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, just braised in butter. An incredible home cooked meal.
I was standing in front of the large cabinet in the living room, where behind the etched glass panels, were a lifetime of memories. Photos of family, captured in different moments of time, forever guarded within gold frames. I saw souvenirs of travel, little trinkets of past voyages.
Then, I noticed something peculiar. It looked like a stack of paper crowns, all different sizes, different styles, but there were at least 50 or so of them, folded away in a corner. I’m reminded of the paper crowns that used to be given away at a certain burger joint in Canada. Continue reading
A new year, a new city, a new life.
I have to admit, I’ve been very lazy in my path towards learning French. As in, my plan was to “pick it up” as I go along, with only a very few words in my sad little repertoire.
I might be decent at it now, since I’ve been in France since May, but it’s actually very hard to get better at something when you’re not actively trying to. Yes, I’ve been surrounded by French people and working in French kitchens, but it’s a bit more difficult than you think.
My French is a whole lot better than it was 8 months ago, although if you knew my French then, it’s not saying much. A large part of it is due to the more confidence I have in speaking it, even if half my sentence is incorrect. Still, this year, I’m determined improve it immensely. Continue reading
As I left Jacques Genin’s at around 7pm yesterday, new year’s eve in Paris, I think back to the amazing year I just had.
2011 was for me, a bittersweet year of challenges, stress, hard work, accomplishments, endings and beginnings.
I said goodbye to a lot of people that I love, but met some amazing people who welcomed me into their life.
I went to Chicago earlier in the year, had dinner at Alinea, met Grant Achatz. I moved back to Mississauga after an incredible year of living downtown. Barry Callebaut Chocolate Competition. Finishing the Baking and Pastry Arts program at George Brown. Leaving Buca.
Getting ready to move to France. Moving to France. Living in beautiful St. Bonnet, working for 3 Michelin star chef Regis Marcon. Moving to Paris. Jacques Genin.
I’ll never forget the people that I’ve been lucky enough to meet this year, who have influenced me, befriended me, changed me. Continue reading
avec chantilly 