Ms. Glaze wrote a wonderful post about being promoted to Chef de Partie and what that means in a French kitchen. It’s really worth reading. Here’s a snippet:
I want to throw up. I want to toss myself into the toxic waters of the Seine or walk into a big black endless hole or just simply throw up. I’ve been given the sand swallowing promotion of Chef de Partie.
Under normal circumstances this would be very exciting. If I was back in the U.S. I would be shaking up champagne bottles. But here, in Paris, where students start careers in cooking at the age of fourteen and pass their entire lives in clastrophobic kitchens, this is like being handed ten sacks of flour and ordered to run a marathon without having trained properly.
As for me, no cooking today. It’s an artist date and I think I might spend some of it at Adam’s Cafe, having a good lunch, then find a good bottle of wine for this evening…..
Remember to do something luxurious for yourself this weekend. One hour reading, taking a bath, cooking something beautiful, having long lazy sex, taking a good walk, shopping for some stationary to write a real letter…. Whatever you like.