Tallulah in the Oven

It was a very, very busy day. The story critique went quite well, actually! I was pleasantly surprised at some of the incredibly insightful comments made by other students. Usually there are only three or four students whose opinions I truly respect, but this time, it was pretty clear everyone understood where I was going and how to make it work better.

After that, it was Turkey Time. Lois and I hopped a bus with our giant shopping bag full of cooking supplies. But unfortunately, due to unclear directions and a clueless bus driver, we got off at the wrong stop. Calling the Irish friend (alright, he can have a name! It's Lochlainn. No, really, it is...) didn't help much. In fact, it was sort of a shock to hear we were "miles away!"

Luckily, Lois and I both possess a great sense of humour, which comes in handy when dragging around a too-heavy bag in a part of town we'd NEVER EVER seen. It was such a relief to finally see Lochlainn and his house. I think we'd walked for over an hour looking for it!

But alas, there was no rest for the weary. It was immediately time to get to work. Tallulah was defrosted and ready to get dressed and hot - Lochlainn took care of the dirty work of the giblets and the 'other bits', while Lois and I prepared a butter, olive oil, and herb rub. And then we got our hands dirty! We buttered poor Tallulah all over (even inside her skin!), stuffed her full of onion, and popped her in the oven.

And began to wait.

And wait some more.

We watched some YouTube videos... and waited even longer. The bird smelled nice at least! Absolutely delicious, actually. Lois snuck some veg into the oven and we sat down to wait again.

Being so behind, it seemed like we were never going to make it. Text messages and calls from the flatmates back at the dorm made us a little skittish. What if it didn't cook all the way? It was a huge turkey! What if everyone was so hungry and we were so late? What if, what if, what if?!

It was epic taking that turkey out of the oven. It was such a feeling of accomplishment - mostly browned on the outside (we left the foil cover on too long, I suspect), the perfect temperature, and just beautiful looking and smelling. We high-fived about ten times in the kitchen, Lois squealing, Lochlainn grinning, and me giggling like a schoolgirl.

"But how," Lochlainn said, "Are we going to get it into the taxi?" We went quiet. The aluminum roasting pan was not sturdy enough, and we had no platter. The end attempt (which was surprisingly successful) involved a wrapping of foil around Tallulah, then a towel around that, more foil, then a final towel. I think the idea was to keep the heat in, but despite the silliness, we got the turkey to flat in one (or two) pieces. Oh, and the cab driver loved the smell.

To be continued...

Today's the Day!

Today is the day!

Tallulah is hanging out at the Irish friend's house while I think I've finally settled on a roast recipe. The cranberries are in the fridge and the rest of the flatmates are busy cooking (and going to class, since we clearly did not get Thanksgiving off!). I have a large bin full of Turkey Roast stuff - herbs (pronounced with an "h" in this country), olive oil, a meat thermometer, string, measuring cups/spoons, salt, pepper... It's one of those situations where I'd rather have EVERYTHING rather than forget something, so, yes, most of my cabinet is in there.

The plan is to go to class, have my story obliterated by the teacher and my peers during workshop, leave straight after, grab my bin and Lois, get the bus, and START THE TURKEY. Wish me luck!

Nearly There

The turkey dilemma seems to have been solved - mostly. We have an Irish friend with an oven and a 17 lb. bird we named Tallulah (bought frozen, currently thawing at said friend's house). Now comes the most difficult part - cooking the turkey. No one here has done it. Somehow, I am the one signed up... But it's a challenge I can meet. I hope.

It is so strange to go to the grocery store and not have the things you need available in one neat and tidy "Thanksgiving" section. Instead, it's been a mad dash around TWO separate supermarkets, looking for cranberries, yams, turkey, a meat thermometer, kitchen string... In fact, cranberries were the most difficult to find. I had seen them fresh at Morrison's last week, but yesterday they were gone. And no one seemed to know when they were scheduled to get more. At Sainsbury's, good luck! They didn't even have fresh cranberries yet, citing that it wasn't yet "that season."

Finally, in a moment of desperation, someone suggested we look in the frozen aisle. And voila! They had frozen cranberries - a new item for that parcticular store, even, and just in time for the Americans to reminisce about the holiday back home. It made cooking them a little different, but not by much. In fact, the kitchen still smells like absolute November heaven - oranges, cranberries, and cinnamon just wafting around and teasing our noses.

I'm excited for tomorrow (we're having Thanksgiving a day early for scheduling reasons), but nervous about the turkey... Wish me luck!

T-Minus Not Enough Days

It's a week and a half before we attempt the biggest feast of the year.

In the wrong country.

Without an oven.

The Americans have banded together - four of us - to create Thanksgiving Dinner. Already the task seems impossible. We have a multitude of barriers - can we find Thanksgiving fare like cranberries and pumpkins? Can we feed three flats worth of people? And most importantly... HOW will we cook a Thanksgiving Turkey without an oven? That's right. They don't trust University students with ovens. None of the flats is equipped with one. And at this rate, with perhaps 25+ people if *everyone* comes, we'll probably need two turkeys...

I've volunteered my services for cranberries and pumpkin pie. Luckily, with that many people, everyone can sort of pitch in and make the easy stuff (like mashed potatoes). But this may be a feat beyond our ovenless flat. We have four or five microwaves, but, ew, who wants microwaved bird?

Pre-ordering one online has been fruitless so far. I've looked on every grocery store's website and can only seem to find advance orders for uncooked turkeys.

Well... if it happens, it will be a Thanksgiving Miracle.

Paris, Paris, Paris! - Part Two

Saturday morning we woke up, determined this time to make it to the tour we had missed the day before. By the way, these are AWESOME. The company is called Sandeman's New Europe and they offer free tours in over ten countries and then more specialized tours for a fee (for example, there was one for Montmartre that we didn't get to, but I'll probably try and do it next time I'm in Paris). They also do Pub Crawls so that youth get a chance to go out in a new city despite not knowing where the 'good' places are. If I see these anywhere, I will definitely take the chance to take them.

The tour took up a good portion of our day, herding us all over Paris. While all the tour guides seem to have incredible and hilarious personalities, I think ours may have been one of the most funny. He kept us laughing and entertained the entire time... while giving us a slew of historical and useful facts!

One of my favorite things we saw on the tour was this octagonal pool-pond-thing. It contains a work of contemporary art by Kader Attia consisting of a number of cymbals. The idea is that raindrops will pound onto the cymbals, creating music across the pond, but there was a moment of discovery as people realized you could throw stones from all around the pond to create the same, interactive effect. Unfortunately, when we were there, no one was really stone-throwing except us (and we missed most of the time), but I've heard the pond is often surrounded by stone-throwers, creating a cacophony of percussion - the viewer as part of the performance, the sound as part of the art.

After the tour, we decided we needed some hot chocolate and cheese to boost our spirits. With cafes everywhere, it was sort of a quest to find one that wasn't too expensive. Luckily, we managed, and we enjoyed emmental, camembert, and a blue cheese (of which I've forgotten its name) spread over delicious French baguettes. Rachael and I also shared a tiny box of expensive chocolates from La Maison du Chocolat and it was heavenly.

Energized from our midday snack, it was time for shopping. French lingerie for the girls (just to say we have some!) and a smart new coat for Alfie. I also found an interesting and very pretty overnight bag while Rachael bought some gorgeous heels (in fact, I'm totally jealous, because she can now say, "Do you like these? I bought them in Paris!").

Then we ate again. I know, I know, but we actually shopped for hours, so we were hungry and exhausted and had our stomachs set on fondue. Three cheese fondue with mushrooms and goat cheese fondue, actually, in a little restaurant by San Michel. The restaurant had a beautiful atmosphere, low lit and red, and we sipped sangria as we devoured dinner. It was the perfect cap to our evening. In fact, we thought we were going to go out clubbing, but in the end, we were so blitzed from walking the entire day, we thought it best just to go back to the hostel and relish what we had done.

The next day was incredibly subdued - our Eurostar left in the afternoon, so we took the morning to sleep in, buy more French bread and French cheese, and just eat crepes in a cafe until it was time to go.

I'm so glad I gave Paris a second chance.

Paris, Paris, Paris! - Part One

I went to Paris thinking, "Oh man, I've already been here, I've already done this, and I'm just going to hate it again." I admit it was a bit pessimistic, but to be fair, my first journey to Paris hadn't gone very well. The first time was characterized by jetlag, miserably cold weather, a tragically comical series of dragging huge suitcases up and down the Metro steps, and the stereotypical rude locals. While I found the architecture and the Louvre beautiful, I had been so put off by the rest of the experience that I was simply not very excited to go to Paris again.

And then I got there. Six hours by train - the same amount of time it takes to get from Tucson to L.A. by car - and we were stepping out of Gard du Nord and into one of the best weekends I've had since I arrived overseas.

After checking into our hostel, my travel companions (Rachael, another American, and Alfie, an English flatmate with near-fluent French skills) and I decided to wander around, find some food for dinner, and see the Eiffel Tower at night. We braved a late-night Japanese restaurant, needing to try things out based on how they looked in the glass case since Alfie's French didn't reach as far as Japanese cuisine. Luckily, everything was quite good (except some strange shrimp dumplings).

The Eiffel Tower at night is beautiful. It's actually kind of beautiful all the time, and I probably snapped over a hundred photos of it in the end. But at night, it is especially beautiful. Glittering on the hour, changing colour... We admired it, sidestepping the "bling bling?" vendors and craning our necks to get a better look. It became, for the weekend, our monument. It was our geographical landmark, our stop every night before going home, and, every night we were there, it offered us something different.

The next morning, we had to go up it. After croissants for breakfast (of course!) and a short walk to the Tower, we stood in a surprisingly short queue and bought tickets to the summit. Breath-taking. Absolutely breath-taking. It's the entirety of Paris shrunk down to a panoramic view by the miracle of upright steel. You can see everything. I couldn't believe how 'worth it' the experience was and how much it wasn't just a tourist attraction, but a necessity in visiting Paris.

After leaving the Tower, we tried to book it to a free walking tour. Unfortunately, we missed the tour by fifteen minutes. But in the spirit of fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants travel, we renovated our day's plans and decided to hop over to the nearby Louvre to spend the afternoon in there.
Three and a half hours in there flies by too quickly. We wandered the corridors, forcing Alfie to translate the placards when we wanted to know more about a certain painting (which was often). It was nice - perhaps not enough time, but I felt like I was able to sit and really absorb the paintings which spoke to me without being rushed by a big group (ala the last time I was in the Louvre).

If it hadn't closed, I don't know that we would have left. Instead, we were back out on the streets of Paris. And this time, we were hungry. There was no question - we wanted French food and we wanted lots of it.
It seemed like we wandered forever, gazing into designer shop windows and salivating over impossible heels and more-expensive-than-my-car gowns and handbags. Finally, there was a place we wanted to eat at. We started with a miniature tower of mozzarella and tomato, accompanied by foie gras on toast. And in the end, foie gras isn't really my thing (though mozzarella and tomato on a baguette is always delicious). It isn't a bad flavour, just... different.

And as for other things that 'aren't really my thing', I took a risk and tried steak tartare. I love to try new food, and I knew it was going to be raw steak, but I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought perhaps it would be marinated strips or... well, I'm not sure, but I wasn't expecting something which looked like grocery store mince. It tasted okay - cold, understandably - but in the end, I think I prefer my meat cooked. Fortunately, we'd had the good sense to order a bottle of red wine to go with our red meat and it was a delicious addition to the meal (better than the meal, in my humble opinion). And to do the restaurant justice, Alfie's meal (cooked beouf) and Rachael's (scallops! yum!) were very tasty.

But dessert. Oh, dessert! It came with a demitasse of espresso and, for each of us, a miniature crème brûlée, a small slice of pound cake, and the most delectable little cup of chocolate mousse. Divine.

We walked back to the hostel, stuffed to the brim, and what do you know? It's the 120th anniversary of the Eiffel Tower and, to honor it, there was a really cool light show put to some fun music. I told you our journey revolved around the Tower! We stood and watched it until the end, marveling once more at the glory of the building. Then it was back to the hostel to sleep for the next day.



Part Two will follow shortly. =)

No One Calls It the Chunnel

Off to Paris today!

That's it, I just wanted to gloat.