Part 6 in a series of my trip to Paris and the Champagne region of France. You can find the earlier days in previous entries…
Day 6, Paris: Once again, had to wake early enough to make sure I made it to the French cooking class on time. I’d packed a full, full day this fine Tuesday, starting with a French macaron class at 9 am! Not sure what I was thinking with all of the morning stuff I’d scheduled, but I’m glad I did it this way because each morning I got up and got going. I’m sure if I’d traveled with someone else I may have lazed in bed (with a special someone) or had a leisurely breakfast, but there was so much I wanted to do and see…
So I got up and drank coffee in the room while I got ready, knowing I wouldn’t be back to the room until much later that evening (packed a bag with a sweater just in case and all the goodies I’d need for that day), and had a quick and light breakfast at the hotel. Made my way to the metro station - I was an expert at that point - feeling almost like a Parisian on my way to work or something! And made it to cooking school early.
There was another woman who got there around the same time I did, so we chatted a bit. Found out she was from Kansas City on a girls trip for her 40th birthday and taking this class while her friend did some other tour. Little by little, the rest of the class showed up: a gorgeous mom and daughter from New Zealand (truly, they both looked like supermodels), a woman from somewhere else in the US (can’t remember where), and a latecomer from Australia. Remember, these particular classes are taught in English. The teacher/chef was from the UK, trained in France and very experienced.
So. We went down into the basement of the cooking school (this is the same school where I went for the market cooking class, but a different kitchen), and got into place next to a bunch of bowls already measured out and several Kitchen Aid mixers. There were huge and luscious vanilla beans, chocolate squares, pineapples, eggs, almond flour, sugar, butter, cream, etc. etc…all of the goodies that we’d be using to make our macarons.
We paired up. I was with the KC chick. And even though everything was measured out for us and we had perfect instruction, those suckers were a 10 on the difficulty scale! No wonder macarons are so expensive…they are VERY HARD to make!
We learned two different methods: the Italian style, in which everything is measured down to the fraction of a gram, exacting and chemistry-like; and the French style, which feels more artistic and takes a lot more finesse and the right “touch”. Both styles were still quite advanced, meaning there were a ton of steps, lots of thermometer use, the fluffing of eggs, the squeezing of pastry bags, and on and on.
In the end, we each found ourselves taking home about two dozen beautiful, colorful and delicious macarons!
I hardly had any time to really think about what we’d created because our class ran all the way up until 1 pm, and I’d scheduled a lunch across town (on the Champs-Elysees, no less!) with a very powerful French businessman who does business with my company. He does the distribution of our product somewhat as a small side project. He also runs several other businesses in France and across Europe, and he’d just flown his jet back to Paris from Berlin earlier and I was lucky enough to get a lunch date with the guy!
So I actually left my macaron box with the people at the cooking school on their advice since I was coming back to the school later for a gastronomy tour, said my goodbyes and headed to a different metro station to get to the restaurant. It was close to the Arc de Triomphe, and just outside of the George V metro station (where I was pretty sure I’d spotted Snoop Dogg walking down into the station…is that even possible?). Up the exit stairs and out onto the Champs-Elysees and across the street to Le Fouquet’s, which is a fancy pants French restaurant where all the fancy pants people go.
And there was Arnaud, in all of his three-piece-suit glory…sitting outside like he owned the place, all smiles and French flair when I walked up to his table! He’s a strikingly handsome man with thick, wavy hair, a great physique and swagger. When he comes to the US, he’s pretty flirty with me and it feels a little weird. But it’s funny - in this Parisian setting, it all feels so…normal. We kissed hello, he ordered a bottle of rose and some other things to munch on, and we got right down to business!
We discussed the state of our business, my job, the company he just bought, and I hinted at the prospect of perhaps some kind of partnership with the company he just bought (would be a perfect opportunity if the situation were right!), and then we talked personal stuff, and he was SO impressed that I just came to France for a visit on my own. It was a wonderful, fancy, French business lunch…complete with a bottle of wine. I felt tipsy as we said our goodbyes and he walked back to his office and I walked back to the metro.
It was already after 3 pm, and I needed to get back to the cooking school by 4 pm to start my gastronomy tour of the Marais. So I made my way back to the Hotel de Ville and over to the school. Again, got there a little early, and hopped on their wifi network and posted photos, facebooked and whatnot until everybody showed up.
The gastronomy tour basically consisted of going to all of the great little specialty shops in the Marais: the cheesemonger’s, the chocolate/pastry place, the boulangerie, the charcuterie, the little fruit/veggie market, the foie gras place (with the unbelievable truffle salt!), and we even paid a visit to the famous falafel place to taste the magic falafel! It was steaming hot and soooooo delicious!
We brought the rest of the goodies back to the cooking school kitchen, laid everything out on the giant table and the chef poured us all some heaping goblets of wine and we ate and drank and laughed and talked about our journeys and travels (there were four people from the US on this particular tour, and others from…I can’t even remember. I hate that this trip is already starting to go blurry…or really that it doesn’t even matter. What I do remember are the two young-ish girls from Austin and the couple from Nebraska. Oh yeah! And one very young girl in her early 20s who was traveling solo because her boyfriend was originally supposed to go on this trip but had just broken up with her - go on girl!).
We ate, drank, talked and laughed some more and soon it was time to get going. It was already well into the evening, and I was getting tipsy and very tired. I got my box of macarons from earlier in the morning and said goodbye to my new drinking/eating buddies and I was out the door.
I did a lot of walking after the meal, thinking I’d make my way back to the hotel on foot, but as I wandered through the Chatelet area with all of the cafes and music and drinking and laughter, I realized I still had about a half an hour to walk - in the dark, and I got to the point where I could walk no longer. I ducked into the metro station and took the train to the stop at Pigalle. It exits right next to the Moulin Rouge and my hotel was right around the corner.
Perfect timing. I think I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Day 6: Exciting and exhausting!
Loading comments...