Graduation or: Weeping into my wine at L'Ami Jean
After we learned that we'd all passed our exams, the only thing left to do was party. The school staged a nice cocktail reception for us in the tiny library, where we each received our diplomas to the thunderous applause of approximately eleven other people.
Our class.
Receiving my diploma.
Nina and Nastia, great friends.
Our instructor David whipped up some foie gras appetizers, and our wine teacher Valerie popped open some Ritz Champagne and a few bottles of Chateau D'Yquem. Receiving my diploma was nice, but drinking Chateau D'Yquem was even better. My god, I wish I didn't enjoy it so much. It tastes like oranges and lemons and kumquats and pineapples and everything beautiful, gold and fresh. It's like concentrated sunlight.
So I sucked down as much of it as I could find without making a spectacle of myself. As I finished draining yet another glass, I overheard the director of the school discussing the New Year's Eve dinner at L'Espadon, the Ritz's restaurant. Ever since I arrived in Paris, I have been curious about eating dinner there; it just seemed fitting after spending these past few months learning how to cook classical French cuisine in the hotel basement. Listening to the director's glowing description of the extravagent New Year's menu, I fuzzily wondered whether it might be a good idea to book a table. Why not end 2005 with a bang? Plus, they'd probably serve lots of Chateau D'Yquem.
"Are there still places available?" I asked, trying not to wobble.
"A few tables remain, I believe. Why don't I run up to the office and grab you a copy of the menu?" The director gave me an indulgent smile.
When he returned with the sheet of paper, Nastia, Nina and I gathered around it to read what the kitchen had planned. Truffles, foie gras, caviar. Amazing wines. More truffles. Heaps more caviar. They might as well have sprinkled gold, emeralds and rubies on each plate. Then my eyes travelled to the bottom of the page, where the price for all this decadence was listed. My breath caught in my throat.
2000 euros per person.
The room spun a little. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I thought I was worldly. I thought I at least had an inkling of what luxury costs. I mean, I read Us Weekly. I know how much Jen and Brad paid for their house.
But who would spend 2000 euros on a single meal? Not me. Not ever. Not even if there was a bathtub of Chateau D'Yquem to guzzle. Not even if there was enough foie gras to choke a horse (which is kind of a disgusting thought). The level of indulgence available to those who can afford it in Paris never ceases to amaze me.
The director returned, a grin playing around the edges of his mouth.
"What do you think? Shall I book you a table?"
I looked at him and just burst out laughing. He joined me, and pretty soon we were all having a great guffaw at my innocence.
Later that night, the new graduates all met up for dinner at Chez L'Ami Jean. The chef is nuts, the food is earthy yet sophisticated, and the vibe is cheerily frenzied. Nina ordered us a few bottles of biodynamic wine, and we got busy eating. Please note, due to my excessive alcohol consumption on this evening, my actual memories of the dishes that we ordered are understandably hazy. Pictures appear below.
Everything was jolly until Nastia decided to make a toast. She spoke eloquently about the fun we've had together, the amazing things we'd learned and how we'd all become such good friends despite cultural and language barriers. And that's when we started to lose it. I think at least half the table began quietly snuffling and sniffling into our desserts as we confronted the fact that we would no longer be seeing each other over our cutting boards every morning.
Despite the public weeping (which I prefer to blame on all that wine rather than on any excesses of sentimentality), I remain quite confident that a 30 euro meal with good girlfriends at L'Ami Jean trumps a 2000 euro dinner at L'Espadon any day. Even without Chateau D'Yquem.
Brandade starter at L'Ami Jean.
Somebody's langoustine.
Miyuki and Nina.
Foie gras starter.
My wonderful bowl of something. It was either wild boar or deer.
Chocolate mousse. Or something else involving chocolate.
Our class.
Receiving my diploma.
Nina and Nastia, great friends.
Our instructor David whipped up some foie gras appetizers, and our wine teacher Valerie popped open some Ritz Champagne and a few bottles of Chateau D'Yquem. Receiving my diploma was nice, but drinking Chateau D'Yquem was even better. My god, I wish I didn't enjoy it so much. It tastes like oranges and lemons and kumquats and pineapples and everything beautiful, gold and fresh. It's like concentrated sunlight.
So I sucked down as much of it as I could find without making a spectacle of myself. As I finished draining yet another glass, I overheard the director of the school discussing the New Year's Eve dinner at L'Espadon, the Ritz's restaurant. Ever since I arrived in Paris, I have been curious about eating dinner there; it just seemed fitting after spending these past few months learning how to cook classical French cuisine in the hotel basement. Listening to the director's glowing description of the extravagent New Year's menu, I fuzzily wondered whether it might be a good idea to book a table. Why not end 2005 with a bang? Plus, they'd probably serve lots of Chateau D'Yquem.
"Are there still places available?" I asked, trying not to wobble.
"A few tables remain, I believe. Why don't I run up to the office and grab you a copy of the menu?" The director gave me an indulgent smile.
When he returned with the sheet of paper, Nastia, Nina and I gathered around it to read what the kitchen had planned. Truffles, foie gras, caviar. Amazing wines. More truffles. Heaps more caviar. They might as well have sprinkled gold, emeralds and rubies on each plate. Then my eyes travelled to the bottom of the page, where the price for all this decadence was listed. My breath caught in my throat.
2000 euros per person.
The room spun a little. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I thought I was worldly. I thought I at least had an inkling of what luxury costs. I mean, I read Us Weekly. I know how much Jen and Brad paid for their house.
But who would spend 2000 euros on a single meal? Not me. Not ever. Not even if there was a bathtub of Chateau D'Yquem to guzzle. Not even if there was enough foie gras to choke a horse (which is kind of a disgusting thought). The level of indulgence available to those who can afford it in Paris never ceases to amaze me.
The director returned, a grin playing around the edges of his mouth.
"What do you think? Shall I book you a table?"
I looked at him and just burst out laughing. He joined me, and pretty soon we were all having a great guffaw at my innocence.
Later that night, the new graduates all met up for dinner at Chez L'Ami Jean. The chef is nuts, the food is earthy yet sophisticated, and the vibe is cheerily frenzied. Nina ordered us a few bottles of biodynamic wine, and we got busy eating. Please note, due to my excessive alcohol consumption on this evening, my actual memories of the dishes that we ordered are understandably hazy. Pictures appear below.
Everything was jolly until Nastia decided to make a toast. She spoke eloquently about the fun we've had together, the amazing things we'd learned and how we'd all become such good friends despite cultural and language barriers. And that's when we started to lose it. I think at least half the table began quietly snuffling and sniffling into our desserts as we confronted the fact that we would no longer be seeing each other over our cutting boards every morning.
Despite the public weeping (which I prefer to blame on all that wine rather than on any excesses of sentimentality), I remain quite confident that a 30 euro meal with good girlfriends at L'Ami Jean trumps a 2000 euro dinner at L'Espadon any day. Even without Chateau D'Yquem.
Brandade starter at L'Ami Jean.
Somebody's langoustine.
Miyuki and Nina.
Foie gras starter.
My wonderful bowl of something. It was either wild boar or deer.
Chocolate mousse. Or something else involving chocolate.
posted by cindym at 6:33 AM
16 Comments:
MILLE FELICITATIONS, Cindy! I am also stunned at the 2000-Euro meal -- it makes the French Laundry look like a bargain. You should revel in your success and eat as many Pierre Herve macaroons as possible... and then get back here on Ammurkin Soil toute de suite.
geez louise! 2000 Euros? they should bathe you in truffle oil for that.
i look forward to your return stateside. perhaps we can launch Feeding Frenzy 2006 with a meal homecooked by you! (with the help of myself and Mrs. Delicious, of course!)
Congratulations and all the best. Please continue writing here, your offerings are a joy to read. I thought I would say something amusing, but I really just want to say Bonne Chance. (Did you ever make it over to Rue Daguerre?)
Hey Mrs Delish - don't worry, I'm on the macaron case. I even tried to sign up to take a class on how to make them, but it was full! How unfair is that! I can't wait to see you girls back in Cali someday!
Eliz - Definitely looking forward to Feeding Frenzy 2006. What's this about me cooking?
Hi Lu - thanks! I am planning to head to Rue Daguerre before I leave - no worries!
For 2000 Euros, they should rub Brendan Fraser all over with truffle oil and let him do a lap dance with you in a very dark room. Alone.
Congratulations on your degree and all your hard work.
What a lovely post, Cindy! And what a lovely moment for you.
Congratulations!
Long-time reader, first-time comment.....
So happy you've graduated, but so sad I will no longer be reading your entertaining posts about school. So many of us have been experiencing the Parisian experience vicariously though you, and it will be missed. I look forward to reading about your future endeavors! Good luck!
Wow, is that service compris?
Let's see, 2000 Euros is about $2400, which would be, like, dinner for ten at the French Laundry?
Anyway, many congratulations on your diplome!
Congratulations! What a feat! Now the real fun begins. Look forward to reading about your future adventures and plans
Congratulations, and don't forget us when you get home. I've really enjoyed reading about your experiences.
Keep blogging! Please.
Congratulations! As with the everyone else, I hope you keep on blogging. All the best!
L'Ami Jean is terrific. I love it too! Y'quem is amazing, but in order to appreciate it, you only should drink it about once a decade. (If you think the prices at the Ritz were outta sight, last time I ate at Arpege the menu was 305 euros pp!)
Tana - I agree with you, but only if it's Clive Owen instead of Brendan Fraser.
Thanks Ivonne, Petra, Me, Brett, B'Gina, and MM! You guys are so nice. And the blog will keep going after I leave Paris. It might not be so deliriously decadent, though. Sad. Back to cold cuts and canned soup. (Hyperventilating slightly...)
David L - so you're saying that it's possible to have too much Chateau D'Yquem? I would cherish the opportunity to find that out! Ha.
Gosh, I teared up overempathizing with you at Chez L'Ami Jean. I can't wait to go there in the Fall. And try Chateau D'Yquem too! Congratulations on a wonderful life changing experience, which was what you were out to do, rigu ht? Isn't it fantastic that you did exactly the right thing for yourself at this moment in your life? Brava! See you in California.
Oh, BTW, macarons aren't too hard technically. I really think that the difference in ingredients from there to here is so enourmous, that it has to somehow be compenasted for in the recipes. There is a young woman who reputedly worked for, and worships, Pierre Herme, as we do, whoushohas a patisserie here, and I swear, there just isn't such amazing flavor in things that should be wonderful. In France, take butter, flour eggs and sugar and it tastes amazing, here it tastes like nothing. I'm very curious to hear how you would work that out!
Congratulations!
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