Seated directly in front of a beautiful specimen (best friend's terminology), we began the 10 hour journey to the south of France. \\nThe trip consisted of many ill-mannered passengers unaware of the phone rule on a charter bus. My soundtrack consisted of r&b muffled with Indian, Spanish, and french high pitched phone conversations. I managed to take two separate naps, sprawled on my window seat. \\nUnfortunately, the beauty behind me never took an interest in conversing with anyone. We even got off on the same stop, but nothing came of it. \\nIn the chill of the French morning, I briskly walked the 1.3 miles to my hostel. Dodging party "favors" from Friday night's festivities of party animals, I walked carefully to my hostel in a central area of bordeaux, touching the largest retail strip in all of Europe. Upon reaching my dark hostel, nearly eaten by frost bite, I sat down on a stacked chair outside, defeated. I knew check in wasn't until 3pm bit I hoped I could sit in the lobby to thaw until the city stirred. Also, online, they advertised lockers to secure your belongings. I wasn't sitting 2 minutes when a lanky, Frenchman with an inch or so long buzz cut and Rayban glasses unlocked the door and projected, "check in?" \\n"Yes, oh thank you. " \\nI figured he would correct himself when he saw my check in time, but I relinquished my name while my eyes gazed at the bar behind him and chalk menu propped directly at my feet to the left. \\n"Ahh Stephanie. Room 301. You're the only one right now. " \\nIn disbelief that I was recieving my key, muchless a 6-bunked room was presently vacant, I offered a smile and my credit card in silence. \\nSmiling, he finished the check in process, while I acknowledged hours level of attractiveness in my mind. \\n"Seriously, thanks so much. " I said as I proceeded to the elevator. After letting myself into the room, I was overcome by a drowsy spell since I had traveled by foot, train, uber, and bus in the last 11 hours. After filing the locker under my bunk with my tired pink backpack, I realized I didn't have the wifi or a lock. Returning the the ground floor (0 on the elevator) I was taken aback by a stunning chiseled glass of water with dirty blonde hair draped over his shoulders. He resembled the prince from the beauty and the beast, after beast form with a tinge of 'surfer.' Gosh, looking like that, he could bring the beast out of any woman... or man. \\n"Hhhhi- hi. I was trying to get the wifi." \\n"Oh hi! I'm Mador. What's your name?" 'That's a French-ass name, Evon' is all I could think in my head. That madtv skit, 'Can I Have Your Number' has never been so relevant in my life. \\n"Hey," I said warmly, trying to keep my cool. I could feel my pulse heighten. "I'm Stephanie." \\n"Oye, Stephanie! Where you from?" \\n"The states. Specifically, Texas. " \\nMaintaining eye contact, he put extra emphasis on "Texas." \\nGuhhh he's so gorgeous. \\nI would like to imagine our eyes lingered, but the conversation was normal. He handed me a slip with the wifi on it and I inquired of the lock prices. \\n"Yes, locks are 4." \\n"Oh, okay," I said, dropping my eyes to my pocket of euros. \\n"You know, here, it's a gift." Bending down and retrieving a black lock in a plastic bag, he handed it over with another spine-tingling smile. \\nCan I die here? Goshhhhh! \\n"Oh- Are you sure?" I'm sure some sexy fashionable Frenchie already has him locked down, I thought. \\n"Yes. My gift." \\nBefore I could respond, he asked, "what are you doing tonight? There's a party here." \\n"Oh, here in the hostel?" I said in an impressed tone. Also, quite relieved I wouldn't have to fight the forecasted 3 degree celcius Saturday night. \\n"Yes. You like it so far?" \\n"Yeah, it's really great!" It's the luckiest I've been all trip, but I didn't want to bore this angel straight from heaven. \\n"Good. I own it. " \\n"Oh wow! Good for you!" Oooo man, has a good job and... he interrupted my silly girlie thoughts with reiteration about the party. \\n"So I'll see you tonight, stephanie?" \\n"Yeah, you will." Wew! I don't know how I survived without screaming. He's the hottest guy I've- well...I don't know, the bartender at the first place on the Ireland crawl was pretty hot and so was.... I digress. He was hott, okay? My little french pastry, little croissant. After setting an alarm to make the bus for my 9am cooking class, I passed out hard. Powdering my face, immediately after awaking to my mundane chime alarm, I was ready four my pastry-making class. After a 45 minute bus ride, I entered the French home to find an older lady with a red apron and thin cat-eye glasses standing at the cooking station, complete with your basics: standing mixer, trays, bowls, a grinder, ingredients, parchment paper, and a canister of utensils from A to Z. Across from the lady was another attractive Frenchman. I'll be dammed. He had a warm smile and dark, short hair with a beard.. mmm. Apparently, the class was in French. The recipe, the participants, and the food, obviously ALL FRENCH. I'm a pretty solid baker but, I can't follow directions I don't understand. EEK. luckily, Christoph, another French-ass name, the instructor spoke a LITTLE English. This will be fun. it really was. Benjamin, the attractive participant across from me, occasionally smiled from across the table. He even poured my glass first upon pouring the water glasses. At the end of the class is when I discovered he actually understands a little English. We talked a little with English not as broken as I imagined. When we came across a phrase we couldn't convey, I used my handy dandy Google Translate. After the class, high on sugar I made a bold move. " Hey, I know we don't really speak the same language, but do you have a snapchat?" "No. But Facebook?" Instantly regretting my patch of courage, I pulled up FB on my phone and he typed in his name. Christoph took this as an opportunity to also get my FB for marketing purposes. 3 hotties and it's only noon. What does the night hold? While that cliff hanger sets in, I'm going to duplicate part one of the recipe, the praline paste. That's the English translation; I promise, the French terminology is much more alluring. Prailine Butter?Toast 1/2 cup of hazelnuts and 1/2 cup of almonds for 10 minutes at 180 C. On medium heat, boil 3/4 cup of sugar, 1/4 cup light corn syrup, and 1/8 cup of water. Stir briefly, and change spoons once crystals dissolve. Boil until mix reaches golden, caramel color.
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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