So I'm stood with my back to the hot sun looking on at Ile Saint Louis. Is it just because I am so interested in sweet things that I seriously believe this island to be wholly devoted to the famous Berthillon ice cream? I think not. Every brasserie and restaurant which surround the small ice cream parlour serves Berthillon. It is the only ice cream to be able to fight for France against the Italians, who are, and allow me to bow my head in all humble respect, the Best at ice cream, aka gelato. Fact.
Friday, 11 April 2014
What an intense week! I always find patisserie school so exciting because I come out having learnt so much and trying to cram my brain in with all the 'mental notes to self' and 'great idea to retain in head.'.
On thursday we had a mock exam for the parisserie practical. We are all shi**ing ourselves since there is only a month left until the real exam. Eek!! In six hours we had to make: 8 croissants and 8 pain au chocolat, 8 religieuses and 8 éclairs, a lemon meringue tart with five individual tartlets and a fruit 'entremet' decorated to the theme of the World Cup. We also had an oral exam on food science, which is not always brilliant when you're running between checking if your éclairs are not burning and your lemon curd is cold enough or your viennoiserie are ok, which, this time, unfortunately, mine were not. ...* I think I mixed the salt and sugar too close to the yeast which meant that the yeast didn't function well or something. ...* When my business studies teacher saw them, he laughed and said "your croissants look like ones you find in Austria!". The French are quite snobby about their croissants. And when I say 'quite', I mean, ridiculously so.
Wednesday, 2 April 2014
I am a little mad at myself for not blogging about World Omnivore Tour sooner. It is SUCH a cool foodie festival. I take so many photos of everything food related in this life and then I don't even write or put the photos up. Not good Abigail, not good.
Today we had a intern in the patisserie who for a week will learn about what its like to work in a kitchen. Blonde and boss-eyed, the young girl had just turned fifteen years old. She was innocent and awkward, and I couldn't help thinking that she was two years younger than my "baby" sister, who I would never imagine capable anywhere near the material or the equipment we use in a professional kitchen lab, let alone ever let her, for fear of scolding, cutting and injuries.