Where were we? Ah yes, I had just gotten into Pastry school, and then big ol' socialist Hollande became president of France, and then Angela Merkel vomited in her mouth a little.
And all the while as the news has unfolded, I've been blissfully, finally doing things I like. Blissfully, finally. School's been mostly awesome. My understanding and technical execution of pastry is evolving waaaay faster than it would have if you'd left me in a room full of pastry books and food to survive on for the same period, which I think means the school is a decent one.
I'm incredibly excited and nervous for my stage (think: temporary "kitchen intern" placement.) I kind of need to pinch myself when I think I'm going to be allowed into this kitchen. It's exciting because it's a pâtissier and a company I really respect and that I've always wanted to see the inner workings of, but it makes me terribly nervous because well... they're awesome and ninja-like, and I'm not a ninja. I'm a grasshopper... larva. Please god don't let me suck. I'm like each character in "A Chorus Line" at some point in the day when I consider my upcoming stage. Completely insecure and absolutely hopeful that it will work out.
I dreamt of cake for the first time last night. Normally (if I dream) I dream of working with chocolate, but last night after googling "melon garnishes" and sketching a few mentally for myself, it was a REM construction consisting of layers of Biscuit Joconde, crème bavarois, and fruit coulis/gelee. Pastry school is having it's effects on me, it seems. :)