Time keeps slipping away...

I realized today that my time here in France is quickly dwindling to an end. It is a bittersweet ending, to be honest. I’ve enjoyed my time here with all the traveling, food, baking and even my stint in the foreign hospital. I hate that I’m going to be leaving the friends that I’ve made and the simplicity of our lives here, but I’m looking forward to being home with all the little things I’ve missed. For instance, a clothes dryer. I really don’t like the way my clothes feel from line drying. That weird crunchy feel, yuck, I still feel like my clothes aren’t clean. Then all the other things like my own bed, my family and friends, my pets and so forth.

Cooper wanting to play

Chance wanting to do laundry

Sophie and Simca (my mom's French bulldogs) on their morning "walk"

Like I said, my life here has been simple. At the start I didn’t have to wake up before noon, but I would be up by at least 8. Walk to the store some days with friends form lab and be back in time to get ready for our walk to the school at 11:30 AM (or a little later). We would be at the school till 8 at night sometimes. But our days now during the week consist of waking up before the sun and walking to lab to be there before 6 AM. In lab till 1 PM, then walk over to lunch that has always been provided for us during the week. Our conversations at lunch consist of how lab went, what should we put together for dinner (I always end up bringing wine), and what are the plans for the weekend. At dinner, we eat together (us few from class) and drink wine, eat and joke around and if the mood hits us right… we play yam (the French version of yatzee). Take into account we are all still going to bed between 8:30-9:30.  It is, by far, enjoyable. One person commented on how much time we all spend together since we have been here and how we are all still getting along. It is surprising. We are with each other for maybe 15+ hours a day. We all have our moments when we get a little frustrated with somebody but we don’t hesitate to be like, “seriously? Come on.” and get right back to work and put it behind us.

Lately our conversations have turned into more of what we are going to be doing after this is done. The time has come for us to be transplanted back into reality and not our play reality here in France. One individual landed a sweet job in Germany working in a bakery. He will be shaping and doing the designs on the artisan breads in this shop. He will be learning from individuals that have been doing this for years. I’m very happy for him and, of course, jealous. Other individuals will be heading back to classes for the winter term at their various campuses of Johnson and Wales, and then there are the others, like me, job searching. It has been difficult for all of us to make calls and or communicate with places back home. So hopefully things line up for all of us when we hit the States. As somebody always tells me… “Being a grown-up sucks. I want to revert back to being 10 years old when all I had to do was a few chores around the house then I got to go outside and play till dusk. Those were simpler/better days.”  I do miss those days but I’m thankful for where I am and having the responsibilities that I will take on. I will always be that kid at heart.

So as my location changes, this blog will change as well… not so much on travel but more focus on food and challenges I encounter. I plan on posting recipes that I’ve come across (or have been asked about). I’ll try them out and then I’ll explain what I did and what I did differently the next time I prepared the recipes.  So I guess in a way this will become a “help me help you” type of blog. I’m always looking for new things to try (savory dishes and desserts).  I know I will be putting more of a French and or Southern influence on my dishes, no matter what they might be. It is what I know and what I do best. 

Love affair with food...

I promised I would post/write about the best part of being in France… The food! It is, of course, my favorite part… hints the reason I’m here. The meals you can get and even the desserts… My mouth is watering thinking about it.

I have been told that I’m an adventurous eater… I have proven that to be true while being here. Some such dishes that I’ve had that others weren’t too keen on trying... like beef tartar. OK… I understand the off-standish comments… I’m eating raw beef plain and simple. Even having a raw egg on top, at times. I understand. But, seriously… OH MY GAWD! It is one of my favorite meals! It is intimidating when it comes out to you… this mound of beef with a little well for the raw egg, you see the herbs and some spices they have mixed in with the beef, on fresh greens with a simple vinaigrette, and some worscheshire sauce. Cracking the yolk and watching it seep and spread over the top of the beef before I mix it all up was surprisingly appetizing to me. I can only eat yolks if they are scrambled… I always eat around the yolks if I have them fried. They just weird me out. But back to the beef tartar… They will have fries to accompany the meal, but there is always a breadbasket on the table. The beef has this velvet texture and melts in your mouth. You get just a hint of the egg along with all the other herbs and spices… One bite, I was sold. It is a lot they give you so it is hard for me to put it all away. If I was able to sit there a longer and didn’t have places to go and see, I think I would have been able to put it all away.

Beef Tartar

Another dish I had was beef carpaccio. Yes… raw beef again. But this kind is very very finely shaved beef instead of minced meat. The plate is covered with the shaved meat and has a drizzle of olive oil and lemon juice over top along with fresh greens and some shaved parmesan. Talk about meat that melts in your mouth.

Beef carpaccio

I know… I know… I have a special place in my heart/stomach for raw beef now. But that isn’t all I’ve been eating. We are given some pretty good/tasty meals for our lunches that are provided for us during the week before/after class. We always have a salad, a plate with different cheeses to choose from, local yogurt (which is really good and American yogurt can’t touch the yogurt here), fresh fruit and then we have a hot part of the meal… We’ve had lasagna (which is tied with my mom’s lasagna for the best), braised veal with butter noodles, stewed beef and scalloped potatoes, baked chicken with buttered rice… oh the list goes on. I’ve not had a bad meal since I’ve been here. And I’ve actually lost weight since being here all because of the walking we have to do and then all the walking around on the weekends.

Cinnamon Rolls our chef made for us one day

Prosciutto melon and a simple salad before the hot portion

Lentils with braised pork

I will miss the quality of food from over here in the farmer’s markets, and all the variety they have with the cheeses, dairy (butter, yogurt, raw milk (that I never got)), the meat stands with cured and fresh meats, wines, all the honeys and so forth. Such a great experience with that. 

All Aspects of France

So taking a little detour from food and exciting travel for a moment…

Ok, so, this whole shenanigan began Halloween night. I started having a weird numbing sensation in my left arm. You know like the ones you get when you've slept on it weird and your arm or whatever limb is "waking up." Well, it didn't stay in the arm... It went to the left side of my jaw. I sounded like I had Novocain shot in my mouth. I was like this can't be good at all. But it then went away after about 15 min. No I hadn’t had any type of alcohol or drugs of any kind to make that happen. Then happened again at dinner so I call the only person I know that would keep me calm... My dad. Did what the doctor said (take some aspirin and call if there are any changes). Next day had slight numbness but nothing that was freaking me out... 

Next day, Wednesday, I had to tell my chef, Sebastian, just in case something more serious than what I had previously experienced happened. He immediately started worrying, which is what I would have done. The numbness charade happened again sooo left class. Sebastian took me to the local doctor, which happened to also be the mayor. Small town life is obviously the same all over the world. The local doctor’s office was interesting in itself. You ring a bell before you go in, then you sit in a very small wood paneled waiting room. Then the doctor comes and gets the next person. No receptionist, no music, no TV and not brightly lit. Just you, your thoughts and some French magazines. Oh and the others that are waiting as well. His office is what you would expect in a small town… all wood bookshelves with pained glass doors. Family photos around, thank you notes, Christmas cards, and stacks of papers, magazines and medical pads lying around his desk. On the other side of the room, slightly hidden behind one of his large bookshelves was the examining area… They don’t give you those paper robe/cover ups here… so that was an experience.

The mayor doctor sent me to a larger town with a hospital. Le Puy-En-Velay (Yeah that small town I visited with the statue of he Virgin Mary and those neat churches... I can see them from my window.) Well, Sebastian had to drive me there since I was instructed not to travel alone or operate any vehicle. I wasn't going to be able to go alone anyway since I needed a translator. We get to the hospital in Le Puy... All in one piece since it was the first time Sebastian has ever driven an automatic car. It was entertaining. But a hospital in a foreign country is another thing.

The late night meal I got in the ER... mmmm

We had to wait (which I expected) to speak to a lady about being treated, showed my passport, gave them the sealed envelope from the mayor doctor, then wrote down my mailing address. Then I was told to go and wait in the other side of the swinging double doors and then when I see the next set of swinging doubles to press the bell... It was a light switch button made into a doorbell. Then had to wait again. The swinging doors opened with this nice young attractive lady coming out in a hurry. But the first thing I noticed was that everybody in the ER area was wearing white. From the shirts to the shoes… White. Kinda weird for me. She got the translation and explained that at this point when I crossed the threshold, I was on my own since Sebastian was in no relation to me. So I bit the bullet and went in. This is where anybody that was aiding or communicating with me reverted back to hand motions and whatever English they knew and I did the same with French. It got frustrating so I started writing things down and drawing pictures. Added a humor factor and made the experience a little bit better. Explained what they were going to do yadda yadda yadda. A nice lady came and took my blood and could tell I scared… I told her in my best French that I detested needles and I hate them. She laughed and I just had to look away.  Oh and the room they put me in the ER was one that was for children. Had wall decals of Christmas stuff like Santa, snowmen, reindeer, butterflies, and ladybugs so to make you feel more at ease as a little kid or somebody like me that doesn’t speak the language very well and is a nervous wreck.

They wall I had to look at for many hours....

Looking out to the "hectic" ER notice the decor on the window

Got to have those typical rednecks you find in hospitals in the same room as me as I was waiting after a test. They kept peaking around the “privacy” curtain. (Oh and at this point I was able to have Sebastian with me to translate) They kept repeating every single thing that was being said between the doctor, translator and I. “She is an American.” “She is living in Yssingeaux doing some pastry school.” So on and so on. Sebastian a little while later said be glad you aren’t me right now… Be glad you don’t understand French very well… You would be disgusted. I laughed and he proceeded to tell me that the French redneck lady was in for bowel movements and she was telling her daughter that her hygiene was poor and she needed to be more cautious during that time of the month. Told her son to quit scratching his area that it was disgusting. The whole clan was in there, even the daughter’s boyfriend. The lady’s mother was even in there. I was trying to figure out how many more people could fit in that tiny area without coming onto my side of the room… not like I needed it all but the group did smell rather offensive. No… They weren’t dressed in wife beaters and trucker hats. It was all in the way they carried themselves and how they acted that presented them as French rednecks.

The IV they had to give me

Sebastian was cracking jokes the whole time. He was happy that I was not hysterical and freaking out. I was cracking jokes right back with him. He stayed with me (just after midnight) when they finally took me to a room to stay over night. They wanted to run some more tests on me the next “morning.” But the jokes kept coming… Sebastian said they were putting me on the pediatric floor b/c of my height and I would blend right in. Well, they did put me on the pediatric floor and the room they rolled me into had a large hot pink crib… luckily I didn’t have a roommate and I wasn’t getting put in the crib. But my room had Winnie the Pooh wall stickers all over it. The only Eyore to be found in the room was on my side… I thought that was funny and ironic. But the view out of my window was of the two known churches in Le Puy and the Statue of the Virgin Mary… Nice view.

It wasn’t until about 3:30 or 4 when the doctors came in to look at me… Next morning my butt.  Had more blood drawn for more tests. Thea, the lady that is over all the students and is a liaison for us, was with me and was translating everything. I don’t know what I would have done with out her. Her and Sebastian went above and beyond to help me out with everything. But back to the story… Then it wasn’t until 7 or so that I got to go in for the MRI or as they call it IRM scan. Everything came back normal. So my blood plumbing in my head is perfect (at least that is what the doc said). Now this neurologist was shorter than me… I’m 4’11”. And she reminded me of this actress that always has a bowl cut haircut, round black glasses… Can’t remember her name but she is really short and older like this neurologist. She was very nice and funny. She made me stay a second night in the hospital. The next day she came back around my room around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. She was baffled by my condition and was wanting to another test… She was explaining it… and Thea was translating… and I heard spinal tap…. I was like oh hayel noo. But she continued and explained it more saying it isn’t as bad as I was thinking, but it was like getting an epidural. It isn’t comfortable but it is safe and is done everyday. I was like hmmmmmmm I don’t like this idea but you are trying to figure out what is wrong and that is a closed circuit down there on the spin with that fluid… so if there is an infection you will find it. So I agreed (famous last words). Granted this whole time I was in constant contact with my parents. Letting them know everything that was going on.

The view from my bed...

Well… when it came to the lumbar puncture/spinal tap from hayel! The prep for it took longer than the actual attempt. To me it felt like the whole thing had been 15 min or so… Nope. The prep was about 5 min and the attempt was only 10 seconds. I’ve never felt that kind of pain before. Thea was right there still holding my hand and holding me the whole time. Just like my mom would have done. The doctor didn’t get anything from that and told us that I could go home. Thea said well I was going to take her out of here regardless. GO THEA! The doctor did laugh and said she wanted to see me on Monday to do some follow up tests and I said as long as you don’t come at me with any needles or sharp points of any kind. She agreed so I’m holding her to it! I’m pretty sure I can take her if it came down to it. Ha

Thea on the ride back to Yssingeaux told me that she was putting me up in the chateau so I wouldn’t be alone back in the bungalows and so I would have a nice comfortable bed. She also got one of the chefs that lives in the chateau to bring me breakfast in the morning… Like I said… above and beyond.

My class put together some boxes of all the treats they had made… Plates du Dame, milk chocolate and caramel bon bons, brioche loafs, and different flavored macaroons. I was able to give these treats to the neurologist (before the tap) and all the nurses and attendants on my floor as a way to say thanks for dealing with me. They all knew I was in pastry school in Yssingeaux, and all wanted treats. They knew little English but we were able to communicate by drawings and broken Franglish.