Post Rugby Wrap Up

Last night, a few friends and I went to Saint Germain; its a neighborhood is Paris that seems to be dedicated to people my age with my interests. Needless to say, I really liked it. We went to meet up with our friend Santiago who was in a bar called "Frog and Princess," an English pub befitting an evening of rugby. Much to our dismay, however, the line to get into Frog and Princess went down the street and wrapped around the corner to another street. The wait was impossibly long, so we skipped Santiago and went to another bar. My friend Esteban asked the bouncer if there was room for three in the bar, and he recieved a flat and final NO. So we changed tactics; we had our young, busty, blonde friend from Russia poutingly ask if there werent a teensy-weensy table for three in the bar, pwwwwease? Of course, we got right in. To quote Esteban on this matter, as in all things, "Ai Dios..."
Heres how Rugby goes, there are like 9 guys on each team. This gigantic white ball is released into the melay and everybody goes nuts for 80 minutes. Basically, this sport is a mix of soccer and football. You have to get the ball across the endzone line for 5 points, and if you do, you get the chance to kick it through the goal posts for an extra point. Or you can forgo the whole running the ball thing, and just kick the ball through the goal posts for three points.
In between attempts at scoring, it is the job of all the players to inflict as much bodily harm on eachother and themselves as is possible. There was one of those mid-game interviews with one of the players on the side lines, and he gleefully reported how his team was strategizing and their plan for passing, all whilst bleeding profusely out of his forhead. Really. The river of blood streamed down his brow and broke off into two little streams at his nose. Lovely.
Just to give you a clearer picture of the mentality of this sport, at one point in the game, one of the Argentinians was running with the ball and a French player was in front of him. Instead of running at the player with the ball and tackling him, the French player threw himself on the ground, just in front of the Argentinian. The Argentinian player tripped over the French player and litterally landed on his face. The crowd's thirst for blood was momentarily appeased.
Regardless, the final score was 15-12, in favor of Argentina. Going into the bar, there were guys running up and down the streets with those foam wigs in blue, white, and red; people were flying French flags out of their windows, and the French national anthem was on constant repeat on the radio. The streets were crowded with people chanting for "les bleus" and jumping and clapping in unison (something they do here all too often). After the game, the streets were quiet and empty. No French flags flew, no wigs, no jumping/clapping was to be heard. It was like Saint Germain had tried to erase the fact that anything had happened at all; "Rugby, who plays rugby? Not us."
Other than that, tourist season is in full swing here. I was trying to get to Bordeaux or Epernay this weekend, but all the hotels in Epernay are booked, and it is around $260 round trip to Bordeaux. Merci, mais non... Too expensive for me right now.
Things in the kitchen are good. We have been very busy of late, and we have just completed a menu update. I like the new menu much more than the old, because it is still classic, but refined, where the old menu was much more of your tyical, standard restaurat fare.
I was trained on some of the new stuff yesterday, including the Saint Jean- its a mesclun salad with a vanilla vinaigrette, topped with three langoustines, and three prawn wrapped in bacon. Very pretty. We also do this Norwegian salmon plate, which consists of toast points, smoked Norwegian salmon, whipped creme fraiche, and lime wedges drizzled with an herb infused olive oil. Delicious... looking.
Its fun. I dont know how I got myself into this. I mean, did I ever talk about wanting to be a chef in years past? I dont think so. Its odd that as my one year anniversary (of marriage to the lovely and talented Mrs. Ruta) approaches, I think back to one year ago. Aside from all the wedding stuff, I was working at Mather LifeWays, a company that made Uncle Julio's look like the welcoming arms of the Virgin Mary. It was, truthfully, the unhappiest time in my life. I would like to say that I look back on it and laugh, but I dont. I still think of some of my coworkers with such anger and disdain, that I dont know what I would do if I ran into one of them on the street. I guess I should be thankful though, because it was one of my good coworkers there who suggested that I take a few cooking classes, and that's how this whole crazy thing happened. So a year ago, I was working for Mathers, and planning a wedding, and I had no idea at the time that a year later, I would be living in France, and training for a new passion.
Funny how things turn out. Wonder where I will be next year.
Anyway, I'm taking myself to Versailles today, and tomorrow I have to do a report on my first three weeks for the chef. It is due at the end of the week, which will mean I have been here for a full month already at that point. Can you believe that? Almost a month has gone by. I cant imagine how fast this is going! I had a dream last night that this whole experience was over, and I couldnt remember anything.
Wow, glad it was just a dream.