Pink Slip Gourmet: Une Soirée!

Last night, my group from school had a party (or une soirée as they call it in France) at Alexandra's house which is right outside of Paris. Everyone brought their significant others. Even Chef and his girlfriend came as well as our friendly Pastry Chef, Thierry. It was a great night. All kinds of different dishes were made and enjoyed by everyone, especially the curry dish that Chef's girlfriend made. Finally, after almost two months of being in France, I had something spicy to eat. It transported me home, if just for a few minutes.

Here's a rule of thumb if you are from the South in the U.S. or just happen to love spicy food: If you ever find yourself in France at a restaurant that claims to have a spicy dish: DON'T BELIEVE THEM. 9.99 times out of 10, it is NOT spicy in the least. In fact, most of what the French call spicy, I would feed to my newborn niece who is only 2 weeks old.

Anyway, the soirée was a success, and we hope to do it again soon. However, let's hope that next time around, I won't have to guess the conversion of 3 3/4 cups of flour to grams like I did yesterday. Let's just say that I haven't mastered the metric system yet, and I didn't exactly turn out a beautiful dough. In fact, I ended up not serving the dish despite the fact that I had literally slaved over it all day since my apartment is not exactly equipped with what I consider a kitchen.

Here are some photos to show you just what I mean:

This is my "kitchen." Can you believe I am in culinary school in Paris and this is the kitchen I come home to everyday?

You may be asking yourself right about now, "Well, where is the sink? I see a ridiculously small/old looking fridge, and I see a burner and about six inches of space, but I don't see a sink. Well, that's because the only way to see this sink is to...

Pull out a drawer!!!!!!!!!!!! Needless to say, dishes are not my favorite thing to do.

So, back to the point: trying to caramelize six huge onions in a saute pan smaller than my hand, on a burner that is tempermental isn't exactly optimal. Neither is trying to mix a dough in the bowl of a salad spinner, but, hey, I'm in Paris. My husband is here with me now, and so those things just roll right off my back. I can't exactly complain when I am living my dream with my husband in the city of lights! Of course, I can still be mortified that Chef had to see the disastrous results of my metric deficiency.

Here are some pics from the party: