Hot Child in the – Paris?

I’m not sure if I hinted at this in a previous post but I recently made a pretty HUGE decision. Within the next six to eight months, I hope to continue my culinary journey in Paris.

It’s not original… in fact, it’s pretty cliche (for rich people) but it’s also a life changing, terrifying opportunity…and I swear I wanted to do this well before Julie & Julia.

It might seem more fitting at this time to consider Italy since I have been cooking at an Italian restaurant for almost two years, which blows my mind. I still can’t believe that I am finally doing this for a living. No regrets in the slightest. Though you wouldn’t know it by my excessive tempter tantrums in the kitchen but because I am a self-diagnosed bi-polar, I counter my rage with generous, well-crafted “family meals”, witty and engaging banter (we killed a whole night taking turns picking which celebrities we would kill, hook up with, and marry – you are presented three celebrities and put one in each category – you’ve played this before, right? and emotional support when time and feelings allow, however, I went to a french culinary school and am looking forward to returning to my roots.

No one makes you feel more insecure about your culinary ability than the french. I miss that. I want to get back to being a little scared going into the kitchen and being made to feel like crap if you miss a step in your execution. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment… and judging from my love-life and previous employment, I am… but I like kitchens where perfection is not just encouraged – it’s required.

My first step in making this a reality was that I gave up my apartment. My beautiful, beautiful, over-priced oasis in one of the trendiest areas of the city… excuse me for a moment….