I'm glad I bought some boots

Yesterday morning it snowed. Yesterday was the 15th of November and it snowed on me.

I was sent on one of the most important missions of my lifetime. I was given 27€ and instructed to buy a bouquet of flowers for a departing co-worker. In addition to the flowers, I was to buy one roll of professional looking wrapping paper for Madame Moulin’s rapidly approaching trip to Japan. “Nothing too flashy,” I was told.

I stepped outside and the wind attacked me like a torrent of ice water. I braced myself against the cold and huddle my chin into my scarf. I reached the gift-shop in record time, dancing to warm myself once inside. Although there was quite a large selection to choose from, nothing seemed to fit my fancy. I finally decided on something remotely similar to what was requested and headed out the door. Again, the wind sent shocks of shivers down my spine.

You’re definitely not in Kans… I mean Keizer anymore, I said to myself.

I scurried to the location where I was supposed to find a bouquet. Buckets of freshly cut flowers and several garden gnomes adorned the outside of three little flower huts. They didn’t seem to mind the cold. I began looking for Madame Brun—the best in the biz. She came to me with a friendly “Bonjour mademoiselle.” I returned her greeting and explained that I was in need of a bouquet of flowers for a colleague and that I was 27 years old. (I had unconsciously replaced the word euros with the word ans. So, instead of saying “I have 27 euros,” I said, “I am 27 years old.”) She laughed as she corrected me and asked if I wanted pastels or vibrant colors. I chose the latter. Then, as I stood there, a little miracle began to form. She danced and swayed from bucket to bucket hand-picking each stem to fit her collection. It was absolutely beautiful. When she was finished, she wrapped her creation with care, placing bright paper of cellophane around the delicate buds. “Will they survive the chill,” I asked. “They better get used to it,” she said. “Lyon is going to see a winter like it hasn’t seen in a while.” I thanked her and armed myself for the hundreds of meters I had left to walk back in cold.

Food - The French Way

Today was the day of grand cuisine. To begin, my fabulous boss decided to take me out to lunch. We ate at this cute little French bistro called “Chez Jackie,” or “Jackie’s House,” and oh how chez it was. I felt as if I was sitting in Jackie’s living room as she ordered me to take off my coat and make myself at home. She explained that she had just returned from the market and we had two options to choose from: lasagne and fish of the sea. I chose the fish. It was extraordinary! White fish drenched in olive oil and lemon with a purée of cauliflower and rice. Superb. We laughed and argued, two things the French are very good at, while we drenched our bread in the remnants of our meal and re-filled our glasses. The merits of France versus the United States were discussed and put to rest, and somehow the fabuleux destin d’Amelié Poulin was addressed. It was a good thing Jackie returned to give us options for dessert: tarte tartine, crème caramel, and mousse au chocolat. The crème caramel was rich but smooth, the burnt outer-layer providing just the right contrast to the silky flan. We finished with a small café and headed for the door. Extraordinary. I just might see Jackie sometime very again.


Later in the evening I attended cooking school. We made pan-seared veal with rosemary- balsamic vinaigrette and potato puree. For dessert, we learned how to make a chestnut mousse with nougatine and biscuits. Oh my, it was so fabulous! Keep sending me gifts. Maybe I will make it for you when I get home.

Me and Mrs. Jones ~ Michael Bubble