The Five Stages of LCB

I think I am There

My last post might have been my low point at LCB. If it wasn’t I should just stop writing now and head to the nearest bar for a drink-or ten. But I am optimistic. My daughter says it’s like the college chart they give you with the five stages of adjusting to life apart from home—which sounded suspiciously like the five stages of grief, but for college students.

First, is the honeymoon phase -check. You know—I am in Paris and I have a cool uniform and I am going to love everyone and they are going to love me and I will probably be the star of the class! Second, the Culture Shock—which manifested itself, at least in my case as, what the hell was I thinking? It is cold and dark here and any romantic notions I had about riding the Metro every day were just stupid. Number three, feeling like I got this—Initial Adjustment. Like when I made the best quiche in the class. Sadly, number three never lasts. But, number four is the biggie—Isolation. In our house we call this being in the wilderness. And the wilderness is not confined to the outdoors—it is the wilderness of I don’t know who I am or what I am doing and this is never going to work. Yep. That was was definitely me this weekend.

I was really close to just packing it in on Sunday. I actually never left the house, or even got dressed, if you want the whole truth. I just licked my wounds and told myself I can go home whenever I want-so there. I was in bed at 8pm with an unmemorable mini series and a big glass of wine to distract myself from my real life. But Monday rolled around and I woke up and it finally wasn’t sub zero outside and the sun was actually trying to shine and I laid in my bed and gave myself a long talking to. Along the lines of, “stop being a crybaby,” and “you are a grown woman and this is ridiculous.” Things like that. So I showered and dressed and headed out to the streets of Paris-which I do love- and where I did some quality retail therapy shopping and took myself out to a fancy, expensive lunch at a hotel. And then, miraculously, I felt better.

I don’t know if I am totally out of the wilderness yet, but I am moving to the final stage of this little experiment. Integration and Acceptance. LCB may not be exactly what I thought it was going to be, and the Chefs may have bigger egos than I ever thought possible, and I may not be the best one (still makes me cringe a little to admit), but I can do this and I will do this and I will be a better person for doing it. Maybe I won’t be a better cook, but I damn sure will be a better vegetable chopper and I will know how to garnish a plate and thanks to last Saturday-I think I also have a good handle on when to use a fire extinguisher. Bonus.

Today we finished the puff pastry we had started Saturday. Its purpose was to encase, basically, a meat pie. The meat pie mixture was chopped up duck and liver (gross) and onion, spices, parsley and shallots. We molded it into a circle and made little designs on the pastry and covered it in an egg wash and baked it to a golden brown. After, it was lightly bathed with honey to give it a gloss and guess what—mine was fine. Better even than fine-it was good. And I don’t even like duck or liver. But not the point.

The point is you have to fail sometimes to appreciate your successes. And you have to realize that experience—while an expensive teacher—is a good one. And I am all about experiences.

On another note, I don’t think I have mentioned, that directly outside of LCB, in the middle of the river Seine, is one of the three castings of the Statue of Liberty. I see it every time I arrive and every time I leave. It’s not as big as the one gifted to us from the French, but it is the same symbol that so many have taken comfort in and millions have been overjoyed to see as they arrived on US shores. So I got that going for me. I really love seeing it every day. Reminds me that I do belong-in actually a lot of places.

Oh—and one last thing. Chef did not skewer me for Saturday. He actually, quite mercifully, gave me two 4s and three 3s. Not the best ever but probably better than I deserved. All is well.