I think I bought a little too much cheese yesterday. Well, the thing is, I haven't been to the store in over two weeks now, and I realized that I'm leaving to go to another château on Friday, where I'm pretty sure I won't be cooking (well I might actually get to assist cook, or cook somedays, but I have a feeling I'll be living with the family again...a feeling, not an expectation, remember my viewpoint on expectations right now). Therefore I feel that it is my duty, an a United States citizen that cannot transport frommage (cheese) back to the US, or is going to have much difficulty transporting wine (and found out she can't ship it either), and who's bags are already too heavy to bring anything else of that matter back, that the only souvinirs will be the ones in my head (unfortunately, I think it they will also appear in my gut). But whatever, the frommage is incredible, and I'm basically training myself on how to recognize and tell the nuances between the different varieties, as well as how to cook with them. I also bought six sticks of butter, a bottle of oil, three pastry crusts from quiches and tarts, beef cubes (for my 'french' onion soup), vanilla ice cream (I need this item to go with my tarts), creme fraîche, and more eggs. Don't ask me how much I spent on dairy last night, but all I can tell you is that it would have been WAY more expensive in the states, where the same cheese is 4x the price!
my newest produce basket
beautiful betterave before I attacked it!
Souci (marigold flowers) infusion
After a few days of moaning and groaning to myself because I didn't have the butter necessary to make all these recipes in Alix's book, or the french cook book I found in the kitchen, I decided to just suck it up and try doing other things that could utilize the walnut oil (Heule de Noix is apparently a thing here). I stuffed a zucchini with rice, tomatoes, garlic, and onions yesterday (and in the process learned that I don't know the correct way to actually spell zucchini when trying to search recipes on epicurious.com (my favorite cooking website, thank you Lindsey). The stuffed zucchini or courgette farche, as I am trying to remember it in French (it's good to remember farche, because it's quicker to say than «jay preparay cou-cour-courg….et evec beaucoup shows…legumes, eea pleu» (it actually sounds a lot worse than that, but everyone here is still really proud of me and my progress in French anyway;) I stuffed the grande courgette with sautéed onions, garlic, zucchini flesh and basmati rice.
courgette farche
I added some parsley and basil to the mix, as well as giroflier, that I just realized (when going to look it up online to translate, that it's CLOVES!!! It makes so much sense now how Alix was explaining the spice to me after I bought it on Sunday because I noticed it in her garden and wanted to experiment cooking with a new spice…ha, it's cloves. Well I like it, a lot, especially with the rice. The stuffed zucchini was fine on its own, but it became much better in the evening when I added emmental and parmesan ;) I think life is just better with cheese. I'm so grateful that I'm not so lactose intolerant anymore because than I'd be just like Meg Ryan on the train in 'French Kiss'!
This weekend was actually a very eventful one for me, because after spending about a day and a half glued to my computer emailing people either back or for my Fulbright application I decided to go out Saturday afternoon in the garden to try my hand at drawing a little (I'm practicing different techniques because I'm trying to figure out what I like best, and therefore all my quick little drawings or paintings are coming out awful but I don't care, I refuse to be a perfectionist right now and just really that it's okay to be not the best at something all the time…big revelation for me ;) As I was sitting in the garden, drawing some haystacks, I noticed a group of people come in and start speaking to this woman in English that was down drawing in the moat area below me (it's dried out now and planted, refer to 'marshmallow fluff' post, view from my kitchen window). And when I saw one of the guys that had been in this group come over to my area, this time instead of saying bonjour! I said hello, and we spoke in English. It turned out that he was Italian, on a water coloring vacation. He was in a week long course with about ten other people, mostly from Paris, and there was one other woman from Los Angeles. Nicolas, the Italian, lent me his watercolors and I started to practice using them. Later I went out with him and three of the other members of the group in Amboise, the cute little village nearby on the Loire. (I'm going to Amboise again tonight, and I think that'll make it the 8th time in three weeks). Dinner was really nice, and I tried frog (which was basically cooked in the same method as escargot with a oil, garlic, basil sauce. And I also tried shark. I preferred the frogs legs because the shark sauce was just too spicy (I'm very critical, remember). But dinner was especially nice because I drank and therefore practiced more of my French (ha ha, alcohol really DOES help you learn a language) and it was just nice to go out.
On Sunday, Emeline and I went to the famous Château de Chenonceau (for history, go here: http://www.chenonceau.com/media/gb/histoire_present.php) and we explored the whole castle together and since she was a French history and heritage major in college, I learned a lot from her tour. We spent a lot of time in the Château so I didn't have enough time as I wanted to explore the gardens but I realized that these gardens were built to be admired from the castle, not as much when walking in the gardens. I thought that I was just having a bad photographing day, but after talking about it with Alix later, I realized that it was the design that left much to be desired while 'in' the gardens, not my photos.
kitchen utensils in Chenonceau
In the afternoon Alix and I returned to Clos Lucé, the château Leonardo da Vinci lived in for the last three years of his life. In the park they had life-size replications of his inventions set up (which turned me off a little bit, because it's just all very cheesy (and not like good frommage either) to me. So I tried to imagine the place sans all the inventions, because the landscape was very beautiful.
Alix's newest book, I think I was the first one anywhere to have a copy ;)
Since I had done this entire exploration four days prior I decided to go back into the main village (while Alix and the artist of her cookbook did a book signing for four hours) and I walked around for a while, bought a very cute scarf, a nice bracelet, some brut from Samour (the village Emeline is from) and sat down at the famous 'Bigot' Chocoletier/Pattiserie for and hour and a half and had the most expensive dessert option on the menu, Stracciatella ice cream, with a giant macaroon, specially chocolates, and whipped cream. It was…amazing. (Charlene can vouch for that).
Dessert from Bigot «oo la la!»
I had my café au lait, all the meanwhile writing in my journal and sketching. And then, out of the blue walks by the Parisian art teacher, I say hi, because I decide 'why not' (even though this could have been a bad move because I wasn't sure if he was 'stalkerish' or not and I've already had problems with guys not going away from me when I say goodbye.) He was all excited to see me though, sat down next to me after which proceeded to get dessert as well, and then pet me. At this point I told him, you know, actually I really don't like to be touched, or petted. Afterwards, when I declined his offer to walk on the beach with him (he was cute and nice but I just wasn't interested) he gave up without a big deal and I continued back to Leonardo's château to meet Alix.
Last night, Emeline gave me the recipe for and taught me how to make her family's crêpes, they were so delicious. We ate them with nutella and whipped cream and ice cream and butter and sugar! Who wants to be my guinea pig when I return to the states and need to practice my French culinary skills? My rule is you buy the food, and I'll cook it ;) Tonight Emeline and I are going out to dinner in Amboise, and then we're going to meet her family to walk around the night open air market (oh no, they'll be more cheese there, ha ha).
Emeline whipping up a crêpe storm
the table set with brut from a château close to Samure, and neufchâtel cheese that I just had to try because it came in the shape of a heart, très mignon!
Today I started cooking a lot of things, since I only have three days left to cook. I started with the French Onion soup, here's a link to the recipe (http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/French-Onion-Soup-236714) I halved the recipe, used about 5 medium size onions, because I don't really know what a pound of onions is exactly, couldn't find thyme or bay leaves and used lemon basil and sage instead. Also replaced the dry wine which dry champagne (leftover from last night), and used beef bullion cubes instead of broth. I spent over an hour caramelizing the onions, and then about another 45 minutes finishing the soup part. Tomorrow I'll just pour the soup into a large ramekin, toast the bread into a crouton and broil it with cheese on top (this will go nicely with the strawberry-orange-rhubarb tart I plan to make as well!) In the meantime I made a leek-garlic-onion quiche in which I burned the crust again…more practice necessary on this, I need more mouths to feed! Alix suggests that I try parchment paper until the crust to prolong it from burning.
my latest quiche (not AS burnt as the last one)
I also cooked a recipe that I really liked, and want to share with the beets and haricots verts from her garden. Basically all I did was clean the beets, slice them up into 'french fry' size strips, toss them with oil and salt and then baked them in the oven for about 20 minutes covered with aluminum foil until tender. After I sautéed a little butter with a little lemon juice and rind, I added the haricot verts I had blanched a few days ago. That, heated through with a handful of chopped parsley, came out really well! (with a refreshing crunch).
Beets and Haricort Verts in Lemon Parsley Butter Sauce
And below is the most ingenious way for me to learn culinary vocabulary!
Isn't it fantastic, postcards with pictures and the words in French ;)
I had this day set aside so that I could work on writing my first draft of my Fulbright proposal, as well as send out further emails to all my contacts. Instead I decided to update everyone, as well as read outside next to the pool for four hours ;)
the kitchen and its view
attracted to the patterns and lines
a 90 year old tractor that is operated by a 90 year old man
I realize that you still probably have no idea what my research for Fulbright is going to be on, or necessarily what a Fulbright is for that matter. But instead of wasting space on my blog explaining the program, I'll send you to their website -> http://us.fulbrightonline.org/home.html. In short, for those that aren't interested in the long explanation, the purpose of the program is basically to form a mutual understanding of different cultures (I hope you can already see why I'm interested) and young adults spend a year abroad from their home country (it is not just the US) to either become a teaching assistant or pursue their own research. Because I love to cook and design, my amazing (yes, he is nothing short of that, Fulbright adviser and I) decided that I would learn how to bake bread in France. Yes, on the surface level I'm not quite sure you'd ever make the connection. But the connection comes in the form of the Slow Food Movement, http://www.slowfood.com/, please view this link, very very interesting! And the idea of Slow Food is to get people to slow down, pay attention to what their eating, support and preserve their own country's biodiversity. Essentially, I want to explore a country's culture (France) through the perspective of one of their most important and integrally linked nurturing food products, bread. And I want to trace the path of bread from it's very start, by working in the fields, harvesting wheat, learning how to mill the seed, working with an artisanal baker, and taking classes. I desire to see where the process starts, the characters involved, and where the last morsel is eaten. And by doing that, I'll have explored a path into the cultural landscape. And by understanding the cultural landscape, I will start to have an understanding of how to design.
Welcome to Château de Valmer!
ready for the photo tour??
view from the kitchen window
the mini field inside the walls
Petit Valmer, the main Château burned down in the 40s I believe
Welcome to the Potager!
This week has proved extra fortunate for me as I have started having responses from those I'm trying to work with in France. In order to be eligible for the grant in France you must have an affiliation with a university. Also since I want to work with a number of people (and in different areas of France as well) I have to make those contacts. It can be difficult at times knowing who to contact, or who will even speak English. Cornell's deadline for the application is September 9th, two days after I return to the United States. It's a little daunting at times to think what I have to get done by then. Applying to the Fulbright is basically taken precedent over any job applications as of now. But I have been fortunate enough to network here accidentally. So there's a possibility of me even working in England this year as well…keep your fingers crossed for me!
Full moon, taken from my bedroom window.
my ex, who shall-not-be-named, told me that his father used to say that you shouldn't make important decisions during a full moon (now I'm always aware of all the dumb things I do around them ;)
(this post is getting more difficult to write as the night goes on)
I just found out that my host mother, the countess and her husband, have gone into Paris for a friend's dinner tonight. We don't live close to Paris, it's not like a thirty minute drive or something, more like probably a two hour drive. I found this out after they left. So what do I do? I open another bottle of rosé brut from the fridge. I still don't know if I'm allowed to drink any of these bottles (it's my third, and I easily can finish one in two nights) but I justify this by telling myself that the bottles have been in the fridge for a very long time, and that's bad for champagne and wine for it to be chilled like that, Emeline and I are the only one's who use the fridge, and it isn't hers, and we live on a winery. And! I don't go shopping as often as I'd like. Now this matter gets to be a little side note. I'm not starving, Alix took me shopping last weekend, and Emeline offerered to get me somethings when I couldn't go shopping this week. But! I forgot to ask for butter, and apparently (as I'm spending hours upon hours trying to translate French recipes) everything calls for butter! Especially crusts for quiches and tarts… god forbid you replace it with oil. (And the oil that I have left is Walnut Oil…so it has a different flavor as well). So that's my issue, lack of butter. It's quite a sad story. But I've decided that I'll stop whimpering about not being able to practice my quiches and other dishes, and make use with what I have, which is an incredible assortment of new veggies. I want to master the art of using rhubarb before I leave here, and I want to take advantage of as much sorrel as I desire.
I have to say, each time I move to a new place I have a new reason to learn French. My first reason at Acquigny, was to speak with Adrien. Then I studied French at Brécy so that I could communicate with the staff (the only ones around me most of my time there), and now, now I'm learning French so that I can read recipes! I've decided a great way to learn would be to translate, because only two people really speak to me in French here and their not around me often enough (Emeline, the French intern, and Alix, the countess). Emeline practices her English, and I practice my French and it's really nice. Alix is really good about helping me learn. On a side note about Emeline, I'm really happy to have met her and to live with her. Because she's my age, very intelligent, and very patient. She's going to take me to the famous Château de Chenenceau on Sunday, we're going to make Crepes on Monday, and Tuesday we're going out to dinner together. I'm very excited. But yes, by the end of my internship you can talk to me in French only about two things, gardening and cooking; oh but I wouldn't have it any other way!
I don't work as much here as I have in the other gardens. Alix is really keen on me understanding the place, the gardens, through various methods (she's a landscape architect herself). And therefore I only work until dejuner (lunchtime at 12). I either start at 7am or 8am, depending on when the rest of the gardeners start (it's currently 8am). After 12, I do my grocery shopping, or marche, as the Frenchie visitors call it when they see me, picking things up from the potager (vegetable/kitchen garden). (It really is just like a market!) After I'm done with the daily shopping I cook lunch, which has become my biggest meal of the day (I've noticed that if I do have my large meal in the middle of the day, I have to most energy, and I'm not hungry til much much later…which means I just starting eating dinner at 10pm tonight). But I agree with the principle, now if only if could be applied to a fast pace new Yorker lifestyle, I'd be golden.
With all this experimental cooking, although it's all healthy (even the extra helpings of strawberry rhubarb confiture with whipped crème frâiche, and experimental quiches), I'm not losing my weight. Actually I guess I'm becoming marshmallowy (now dearest Rachel, I know you'll understand this). But! I've decided that you're all family (or slightly extended family, and you must except me marshmallowy or not…because I'll cook delicious food for you ;) Now at least I'm more like a toasty marshmallow, and my hair is turning a little blond. I think it's funny now that I thought I'd LOSE weight in France, HA! But I do know that I can lose it when I get back to the states, so why not take advantage of everything delicious while I have the chance and literally SAVOR the future memories.
Other than massive amounts of time spent cooking and working on the Fulbright grant application, I also spend a pleasant amount of time reading and writing by the pool, which has a spectacular view. I've always been drawing a little ;) And blame it on Mommy for the lack of posts, just kidding. Though I think I do spend too much time talking to my mother while she's 'supposed' to be working, and I should be living in France and not on an ordinateur (computer).
Charlene came last weekend, and we had a fabulous time for four days. We visited the Chaumont-Sur-Loire Garden Festival which showcases 20 gardens every year competitively designed by arch's and land arch's. We ate lots of ice-cream along the way, spent time in Amboise and Tours and even cooked a little together. It was really nice ;)
Alix and Olivier(her friend) in front of a Patrick Blanc installation (I learned a lot about Patrick that day, Olivier's good friends with him)
my favorite garden at the Festival, I think it's also because I just think I intuitively got it, and tried to explain it to Olivier and Charlene who after a while started to roll their eyes at my philosophical interpretations)
looking through the bamboo fence to spy on the people in the same garden
I really love this picture of this other garden, because it cuts out everything else and makes you focus on the impossible
the Thé Garden!
(and it's wall composed of tea cups)
The castle of Chaumont-Sur-Loire
Alix, Olivier, and Charlene waited for me while I snapped a picture of this (10x to get it right) in one of the displays inside the château)
Charlene, Alix, and I posing in front of the Loire River
Château de Amboise at Night, during the Nighttime Spectacle, in which we watched Emeline perform
I think this was the closest I've ever felt to being at a Renaissance Fair (the first and the last time, shall we say?)
My Flickr account has not worked the way I would have liked to intended, therefore, don't expect many more pictures up there until after I get back to the United States. Unfortunately, the speed of internet here is not up to par, and I decided that I would use Flickr to store a copy of my precious photos, but I want to put them up at full resolution, not shrunk down. But to speed things up for the blog, I actually shrunk some of my photos because I realized it wasn't necessarily to have them so big here. So sorry about the change of pace, but I'm sure you understand the dilemma.
On another random note, I'm learning how to drive stick shift! Well, I was learning until the day after I took the car out in the woods, the truck's tire went flat. So we've been out of a work car for a week now. And everyone says they don't think it's my fault (no I didn't notice a giant nail in the tire) however, I still think it's my fault because I don't know who would have used it in that time. But! I'm getting the hang of stick, and now I'm even closer being on my way to getting a mini cooper. I think it's funny that at the end of everything I learned how to drive stick (yes, I know the first Alex to start teaching me is my brother), but the second is the countess Alix! I do so love empowering women.
So after much critical debate in my head over the period of one work day, I've decided that I'm going to take the next step with my photos and start backing them up and displaying them on Flickr. I realize that I have a lot of catching up to do and organizing from the last couple of years but I deemed it better to start now, while I'm in France, and while my nikonD90 is still new, and there aren't 1,000s of 12 mp+ pictures on my hard drive yet. As time goes by, I should have more and more collections up, and I'd like to dig especially into my past pictures as well from Russia, and Hawaii, India, Puerto Rico and Guatemala. You won't be able to print any of the pictures, but I may be able to set a permission standard if you're interested, this is just to protect my collection from the big world wide web. cheers! I have so much to update you on, but life is busy and fantastic. Charlene is coming to visit tomorrow for four days, and I'm really looking forward to it. Plus, I'm learning how to drive stick shift by a countess, and I just finished my apricot tart, so literally, life is pretty sweet right now.
I always seem to write my posts much later than I intend to. But I am not going to apologize for my own supposed tardiness, because I've come to the decision that I will write when the time is most appropriate. These past two weeks have been thoroughly jam-packed with activities and adventures, many of which during the work-day I have composed blog-entries upon blog-entries...all in my head of course! Unfortunately, I haven't been able to figure out how to translate my thoughts into an automatic written script. Otherwise, you'd see many many posts from me (a few a day even) than my particularly random posting. Because I feel that there is quite a bit I would like to update you all on, you'll have to bare with my style of writing. It may seem to jump around a bit at times. But if you've ever heard me try to tell a story, well you'll understand. Because I have the terrible habit of forgetting what I want to say, and then going off on every random tangent possible. Oh...speaking of tangents...I have to stay trying to speak French has been training me to focus my thoughts. Because I want to purely get my main point across, I try to focus on the main picture, rather then fill up the monologue with unnessicary adjectives. Although my french is pas bien, it IS existent! This is very exiciting, because I never thought I'd become decent in any language -- oh, it has always been the desire for me to speak multiple languages, but I've always had so much trouble in language classes that I thought it wasn't possible. But I've gladly proved myself wrong!
I thought this picture I took in Caen of macaroons was really pretty and I was reminded of it yesterday when Charlene and I were peering in all the patisseries in Paris searching for macaroons so she could experience them! Aww, I'm so happy Char and I got to spend the day together. Except when I was in Russia, we've never spent this amount of time apart.
quick shot of Char peering into the lavender garden in the Tuileries
Julia Child's favorite culinary store in Paris
(I'm also purposely posing next to an adorable mini cooper I might add)
This past Wednesday, on the French holiday Bastille Day, I left Brécy, and I was a little heart-broken yet again. I was on the verge of tears multiple times. When I had to say goodbye to Lydie, the new housekeeper, when I left Cyril, the gardener, and when I said goodbye to Didier Wirth Thursday morning in his own apartment in Paris. You may be asking, what happened? How such a rapid turn around. Well, I'm going to tell you a little story (actually quite a few stories) of the transition that occured at Brécy over the last few weeks. As well as give you incite into my latest life lesson and personal revelation (both of which I already had in the back of my mind, but particular incidents cemented).
(A few evening images from my weekend trip into Paris two weeks ago)
Artichokes... Before I left Brécy on Wednesday I had really wanted to do a piece on the artichokes there. First, I had wanted to find every artichoke. (If you had been to the place, you would know this is next to impossible, because artichokes are everywhere). When I had arrived at the château, I started to note the random appearance of artichokes. These fascinating vegetables popped up everywhere. They were on the ceiling (in the mural I previously posted), they were built into the fountains (an entire fountain basket containing dozens of ceramic artichokes), in the lamps, on the stair railings, a paper one in the kitchen, embroided into the little hand towels, and upon closer inspection, I realized my wallpaper was comprised of them! On the first Sunday I was there, I recieved my answer (but at this time, I did not realize how enamored Didier and Barbara Wirth really were with these legumes). It was only after four weeks of discovering artichokes like in a 'Where's Waldo' puzzle, and having them often for dinner that I began to grasp the extent.
see the sculptures? they're piles of artichokes in a basket! Barbara designed them
"I beg your pardon; I never promised you a rose garden"
hours spent here dead-heading, weeding, and raking the soil. but I really love dead-heading roses, I don't know what it is. Maybe it's that you cut off the dead parts of a plant and it produces more beautiful flowers again.
Marie working in what I call the 'secret garden' because it wasn't available to the general public, it was basically walled in by stone and topiary hedges, and it was abandoned for a while and we brought it back to life just like in the movie :)
A picture of me, Marie, and Lydie just as I take off for Paris for the first time. This picture does not do Lydie justice, I'll post more of her later, but she's very very beautiful. I miss Marie very much already, it's been two weeks since I last saw her.
Didier explained that there had not been much that was original to the estate by the time that they arrived. The basic structure was still there (the stone walls highly deteriorated at this point, but since the garden was set up in a symmetrical formal matter, often what was seen on one side could determine where to place an object or rebuild on the other). The entire garden is believe to have a transcendental layout because it was said to be built with regards to a priest's (the only real heir to the place) sister who died. There are four terraces to the garden, with each partiere rising up to the final gate, at the end. A gate that appears to open up to only sky (see previous posts for pictures). So as you look out through the house into the garden your eye is drawn up to and through the gate, to the sky, or heavens. (The work that Didier and Barbara later did to emphasize this view with regards to site engineering and construction is remarkable). Bascially you climb up the stairs and walk through the gardens, the terrestrial plane to get to the celestial one. (Now George, the cook, and the temporary caretaker of the mansion and gardens -- more on him and his attitude to come -- had a very different opinion about the architecture and garden layout -- he believed that everything was based on the golden mean, or fibonacci sequence, which he could explain very well with regards to what exists). However, because I'm not George's biggest fan, and I prefer philosophical references, I'm going to spread Didier's interphretation. But it the end, I think both are possible, and could be both true at the same time, I absolutely love multiple layers of meaning. So, when Didier arrived there were a few (certainly not to the extent they exist now) artichokes throughout the estate. Two artichokes rested on the steeple of the chaple, and artichokes rested on top of a few of the statuary. Based on research in theologic tests, the artichoke heart is god, and each person is a leaf. So as a whole, the artichoke comprises the city of god.
mhmm, it only seemed appropriate to post a photo of my stuffed artichokes I made this past easter, even more appropriate that I made them FOR easter
Expect the Unexpected In short, without boring you with too many details, I had to learn here to expect the unexpected. Over the past few years, I have tried to wean myself away from expectations and anticipations because it often would resolve in dissapointment. Sometimes, before going to a place, I wouldn't even have time to created pre-concieved ideas about a place. Such as before I went to Guatemala, I was just too busy with school work to even come up with something. Even before I left for France I was completely all over the place, and the only time I really thought about things was when I was working out at the gym. I would think of France to sometimes calm me down or cheer myself up when I was having a bad moment. But what did I imagine the most? Going for jogs in France. For some reason this is the one thing I really wanted to do. Because in my head it seemed incredibly freeing to just jog around paths in the forests. I imagined myself getting out of work after lunch and having the rest of the day to myself -- painting, writing, reading, taking a bike to the beach, and jogging. HA!!!! So far, I've been working full time, and I've ran twice since here (including this morning). Actually, this is the first place I am not on lock-down. Oh yes, I have breathing room here. Actually I debated wheter to title this post breathing space, but then decided on expansive horizons because I felt that it better included the feeling of breathing space as well as the view from this château, and even more so my own oppurtunities that are expanding in a stepping stone type manner. With reference to not being on lock-down I mean I'm really not. I live in a separate building than the count and countess, Aymar and Alix de Saint Venant, and therefore there aren't any alarms to the place. We live within the property, and the gates to the gardens are not locked at night. And, there isn't really any real reinforced structure to protect the entire property, because even the gates are missing to go out into the vineyard. So this is a change, and it's freeing. I even walked to the boulangerie this morning to the village to buy bread and cheese (because Alix and her husband are away in Italy for the weekend for a wedding, and I think they forgot to leave the poor American girl food). Actually, I'm not sure, but I may have to cook for myself here. This doesn't bother me too much, although if so, maybe theyll give me some money for food because it's not like I'm actually getting paid to work. But we'll see, they'll return Monday. There's another French girl here as well, actually she's the same age as me, and she's going to take me to the super market tomorrow. I already like her (she doesn't really speak English), but she's very nice, and was a little confused to why I ate some of her food last night and this morning. The real reason is, I thought it was just the food in the house that was left for whomever to eat. I was picked up by Sébastien last night, the gardener, who said that I could eat anything in the fridge. So I did (there isn't much, but basically what was edible was hers). Oh, and there was wine...because they have there own vineyard here. So I decided since I was left to my own devices without much to eat and there were seven bottles of wine in the fridge at least I can occupy myself with that. I decided on a bottle of white with a metal cap sealing it. Only after I manage to break the seal and have the cap whack me at full-force in the chest did I realize this wasn't wine, this was brut, and I could've lost my eye. Instead, I had this half-crescent shaped bruise on my chest....hmm. The brut is délicieux, and very alcoholic. (I had a little trouble getting up the stairs last night after just three glasses -- and you have to understand that my tolerance is growing each day, APPARENTLY it's impolite to have only a little wine in your glass in France, so everybody keeps pouring me more!)
The view from Liz's Knox's apartment in the Potager du Roi
at Versailles...yes, this is what I awoke to in the morning
I mix VERY well with high society One good attribute I find that I have is that I'm able to socialize and mix with people from various levels of the social class system. I am able to do so for a few reasons with reference to each class. I am a snob, I know that, and Cornell confirmed it, and France only brings it out further in me. The thing is, I am disinterested in spending time with a very large percentage of society. It's not that I feel that I am better then them, I am just not interested in the same things as them; I find a lot of people very boring. I also, with the exception to my friends and their families at home, and those friends I've made at Cornell, am not very interested in pursuing friendships with people my own age. I often find people my own age immature and not equipped enough to hold a decent conservation. If you cannot hold my attention in a conversation, be aware that I am going to be looking for a way out of your company in the fastest and politest manner conceivable.
I'm obsessed with details; ça tres belle non?
Formally educated in a discoursive setting is not necessarily the determining factor for me, but rather it's determining if the person I am conversing with is actually passionate or actually interested in anything for that matter. And I don't mean interested in sitting in front of a computer or television all day wasting time. I also do not want to have yet another conversation with a guy about how wonderful and interesting I am, and about how sorry they are to see me leave (hearing I am going to miss you 20x during a two-hour walk is incredibly annoying, and really, I don't care about your relationship problems). And yes, I'm single, and no, that doesn't mean I'm going to date you! And really, no, I don't need an escort, because my life is more interesting without the annoying babble in the background. But I've been lucky. Most of the people, most, not all, that I have lived with in France I find to be very good company. Adrien, well, I think you can remember him from my posts about Acquigny, I found to be absolutely wonderful. This mainly stemmed from the fact that he had a passion, and it was very similar to my own. And he taught himself many many things related to that passion (botanical horticulture). He didn't mind getting dirty, and he had an incredible heart. Lydie, the Wirth's new housekeeper at Brécy, changed my life there. The Monday after my arrival she tried to talk with me, and find out if I was lonely, and told me that she was very sorry she couldn't speak English because she would have loved to talk with me. Because of her, and Cyril, the Brécy gardener, I rapidly learned more and more French each day in order to converse with them. I'll write more later on how the two of them became people that I will never forget. And what was it with them? It was Lydie's heart, and her embrace. It was Cyril's interest in making sure I got to see everything, and even though I know he likes me, just the way he treated me and never did anything that would ever make me feel uncomfortable around him. These three people, Adrien, Lydie, and Cyril, whom of which barely spoke any English, put the greatest effort into getting to know me and hear me out; they changed my conception that I'll never get to know anyone that doesn't speak English. So now you may be asking, what does this have to do with my paragraph heading? I really just wanted to give you a background on how to me, the level of social class isn't the determining factor for me with getting along with others. It also helps that I was a waitress for four years and I used to make lunch, dinner, and dessert for people on the side of my education.
A roll of images below of the raised park in Paris, called the Promenade Plantée, the precursor to Manhattan's Highline. The Promenade Plantée, which is built on a old raised railway, terminate in Parc de Reully, a fascinating little park that has an incredible number of uses.
Also, I love this picture to the right because it was two men walking their babies in strollers, it's perfect ;)
Every once in a while, when Didier and Barbara were at Brécy I was invited to participate in the dinners, and well as go to see fireworks for the eve of Bastille Day at a friend's mansion. I absolutely love mingling with their guests, because they were incredibly interesting to talk to. They all spoke English, were at the top 5% of society, and found me interesting to talk to. I took notice that I actually speak English very differently with them, I switch into 'proper/polite' speak. It's quite fun I have to admit. And then last Wednesday, at the party, I met someone. But I can't spread all my juicy details here, let's just say the two of us talked for two hours and I realized that since I've been to France I've raised my standards for someone to date over three times now, and finally realize that the person I'm newly composing exists :) I am also quite content to be very much single rather than be in an annoying relationship. So there you go, my confirmation. Which happened after meeting a guy in Paris, getting bored, and telling him, actually no, I'm not going to have dinner with you tonight? Why (well the real reason which I can't tell you is that you're boring me and I'd rather be by myself even though you're very very nice to me and want to buy me dinner, which would probably save me a nice chunk of money because eating out is expensive in Paris, but I don't want to sacrifice my tranquility), so let's just settle for, sorry, I don't want to.
By this point Cyril was already well aware of how much I didn't like to be in pictures,
I just like to take them
the beautiful coast of Normandie
yes, that one, the one to the left, see it? ça moi petit bateau
oh, and p.s. mommy, I started reading War and Peace
After a few days of moaning and groaning to myself because I didn't have the butter necessary to make all these recipes in Alix's book, or the french cook book I found in the kitchen, I decided to just suck it up and try doing other things that could utilize the walnut oil (Heule de Noix is apparently a thing here). I stuffed a zucchini with rice, tomatoes, garlic, and onions yesterday (and in the process learned that I don't know the correct way to actually spell zucchini when trying to search recipes on epicurious.com (my favorite cooking website, thank you Lindsey). The stuffed zucchini or courgette farche, as I am trying to remember it in French (it's good to remember farche, because it's quicker to say than «jay preparay cou-cour-courg….et evec beaucoup shows…legumes, eea pleu» (it actually sounds a lot worse than that, but everyone here is still really proud of me and my progress in French anyway;) I stuffed the grande courgette with sautéed onions, garlic, zucchini flesh and basmati rice. 
