My blog silence has been self-inflicted. Life has been going along at such a pace that the energy has been lacking for putting my kitchen exploits in to words; this will be remedied within the next week or so. A fortnight ago, or thereabouts, I acted like some kind of Cake DJ, conjuring up creations, by request, for a lovely collection of guests hosted by my French family. The kitchen has been abuzz and it feels wonderful.
Here in France, the initial honeymoon period has died down – it feels less like a holiday and more like every day life. This is not a bad thing, in fact it’s something I embrace. If you told me in the depths of Autumn last year that within 12 months I’d be settled in to the French lifestyle, making friends with whom I could only speak French to and running 5k three times a week I’d have called you a multitude of things but ‘honest’ would not have been one of them.
When I first arrived in France, I could not speak French. I’d studied it at school but my confidence was seriously lacking and a classroom 8 years ago had not really taught me the subtle nuances of everyday French conversation. My Spanish friend, Elena, tried to speak to me but I was even afraid to ask her how she was – these days we laugh together, update each other on our lives and even arrange our weekends and evenings. Whilst my accent is not a perfect thing, so many French people say how adorable an English accent is when speaking French (a similar thing is believed in the reverse for the French with their English) that that has also boosted my confidence. I was so caught up with sounding ‘French’ and being fluent that I forgot that at the root of it all, I wanted to communicate with other people.
Whilst not baking related, though a necessity connected to the after effects of eating a hell of a lot of baked goods, I am now running 5k. At the beginning of the year, 30 seconds of running put me in to a mild panic attack, longing for my sofa and an end to what I considered a living hell. Now, however, I look forward to my runs in the forests where I live. Yeah, I am the worst type of person.
What does this all show me, or you for that matter? With determination, you can achieve the things you thought impossible. Learning a language and telling yourself that you are not a language person is a stupid idea. You’ve learnt one language, you can learn another. Look at how many people are bilingual (or multilingual for that matter) in the world – are all these people ‘natural language learners’? No. Yes, it’s hard work but don’t expend ‘impossible’ about so often. When it came to running, I thought I’d never be able to do it, but bit by bit, I can run further and then faster. It’s do-able.
Now, with a similar determination, I am tackling my imminent application to Le Cordon Bleu. I finally visited its hallowed walls on Monday and immediately realised it was the place for me (I visited other Patisserie schools but they didn’t have the same feel for a variety of reasons). There are some things regarding Parisian life (such as funding such an extravagant thing) that I am trying to work out but with a positive outlook and a lot of research, I’m hopeful. I have a few things in the pipeline that I will update you on when they happen (mysterious, huh?) which should aid me for my studies and my life beyond.
So, I’d better get to the other posts and lunch is imminent. That’s one of the most wonderful things about living in France: so much joy and time is dedicated to food. Great for the soul; for the waistline, a different story.
Until next time,
The Caped Pâtissière
the caped pâtissière 