Week 1: Sights, Soups, and Not Enough Salt

With week one under my belt, and my laundry and knife set under my arm, I walk the 1 km back to my apartment. Passing boulangers, barbers, and the ever present row of taxis, I think, "what have I gotten myself into?" This is as far from Brainerd, MN, as my local cantina, and their very famous "Flautas" ;) are from a Pueblo street market. The sites, sounds, and smells surrounding me are nothing like the cool breeze, fresh air, and arbor like settings I grew up in, and became accustomed to. When I left, my town had 5,555 people. the 15th arrondissement has over 1 million. So its safe to say I'm out of my element on this brief walk home every day. But then morning comes the next day, and something changes, I'm in my Chef's whites, learning about fumet's, and écumer, and other sexy french words. I am at home. The heat of the kitchen, the Michelin starred teachers, the funny hats, all things that make me happy. The food is basic, but we must start somewhere. A simple vegetable soup, with not enough salt, Lemon Sole with Sauce Bercy, and not enough salt, nonetheless, I am happy in the kitchen. Sure the scenery is great, I take any right turn coming home from school, and I see the Eiffel Tower in all of its glory. I have made friends from each continent, which is also great, but I'm here for one thing. Tomorrow we Pocher, so tonight, I must sleep.