Les Ganaches

The story goes that a long time ago in France, a chef told his young apprentice to never, never, never put any hot liquid on the shelf above his workspace. Well, young apprentices being what they are: generally young and stupid, this particular apprentice one day broke this rule, and a whole bowl of hot milk fell into the bowl of solid chocolate below it. The chef freaked out on the kid. "Ganache! I told you never to do that!" Ganache, in French, translates to moron, idiot, hardhead. Soon after, though, the chef discovered that pouring hot cream over solid chocolate turns the whole concoction into a delicious treat. So, he promptly took credit for the invention and had the apprentice killed and eaten, so he could never speak the truth to the world. (I made that last part up).
I feel that kid's pain, though.
Generally speaking, when someone tells you that you are a moron, we dont increase our respect for them. In fact, men generally start aiming foot for groin, but in my case, things are a bit different.
Chef Thierry is one of those guys who is always smiling and happy and always has a nice thing to say to you.... if he doesnt know you, that is.
Before I worked with Chef Thierry in the patisserie, he was a boat load of fun. Funny, generous with his sugary creations, and a big help if you ever needed it.
He even does this thing where he pretends to be gay, and chases the dishwashers around the kitchen yelling "Kiss me!" They hate it. We hate the dishwashers, though, so it is a blast to watch. He is the type of guy who will always grab your ass when he walks by or make a somewhat sexual comment about how strong your hands must be, to be stirring that pot so well. That kind of thing. I cant say I was really into the whole ass grabbing thing from a fifty something Frenchman, but it was better than sous chef Yan's icy stares.
Anyway, on Friday last, I started work in the patisserie, and ever since, the jokes, treats and fondles have come to an abrupt halt.
Now, I am the fool from the States who cant even stir correctly (really, there are very precise stirring methods in this country, who knew?)
I am learning so much though. Today I made six huge bowls of white chocolate mousse, and it tasted just like Chef Thierry's (mainly because he watched every fricking thing I did). I couldnt do that yesterday, but now I can. This stuff is superb, and I cant wait to make a huge vat of it in my apartment, load it all into the bathtub, and eat my way out.
But when chef says, "No Mark! Oh la la, what is wrong with you? Do you understand anything?" I dont mind. He could say nothing at all; he could transfer me back to the savory side, but he doesnt. He takes the time to teach me, and he shows me everything he is doing. I appreciate that he makes the effort, and he is an amazing chef.
Other than that, things in France are good. I am all set for my classes for next term in Chicago, and the laundress has asked me when she can do my final load of laundry, so my frilly underthings will be nice and pressed (yes, she presses my frilly underthings) for the trip back to the States. Things are winding down.
So, what better time for Wang and his girlfriend to go into hysterical, emotional breakdown?
Seems that there was a fete in Paris about a month ago for a guy who was moving to Australia. I didnt go because it started at midnight, and I get up too early for that. Will went though, and while there, was plied with alcohol. While under the influence, a young French girl made a pass at Will. He promptly refused, but she persisted in her quest for Wang's wang, and succeed she did, at least in getting a kiss from him. A French kiss. Oh la la!
Well, Wang failed to mention this to Cecilia, his girlfriend. So, some time passes, and he thinks all is well, till a whole slew of people from the fete start joking about how much of a stud Will is, and Cecilia over hears. Sacre bleu!
Needless to say, Cecilia went a little apes*@&! and freaked out on Will. They didnt talk for a whole day (which is like a month in terms of a normal a relationship).
Yesterday, she approached me and said, "Mahk, you old, you know thing, you tell: can I fogive Will for kiss girl with tongue?"
Apart from not being sure if she meant that Will had tongue kissed a girl, or if "gril with tongue" was how Cecilia was choosing to describe Will's mistress, I was touched. I had never felt so trusted before, as this poor girl looked at me with tears in her eyes and waited for my answer. I told her if she felt she could trust him again one day, then she could forgive him and move on, but if she didnt trust him anymore, then their relationship had to change. She nodded, thanked me, and left the lounge I happened to be in when she asked me that question, in front of everyone I know. It was a bit awkward.... for everyone.
Anyway, that night, Will decided he needed to talk to someone "old" too. A reminder, he is 21. I am not that much older. Regardless, he said that he wasnt sure what he should do. Cecilia had broken up with him earlier in the day, and he was excited to be free of a relationship that wasnt working, but also, he loves her and didnt want to hurt her. (Maybe a little late for that?)
I asked him if he felt that while they are apart for two months in China (they leave tomorrow), that he would miss her. He said he didnt know, and that last year on their break from school, he had met someone while he was in China.
I asked what "met someone" met. He said, "You know, I liked someone else." Oh, well, that's ok. But maybe it points to that you only want to be with Cecilia because you are afraid of being in a new relationship. That's what I said. I felt pretty good about that psychoanalytical piece of mumbo jumbo.
Will smiled, and thanked me. He said that he didnt think that meeting the girl was a problem either, but Cecilia would. What? Why would meeting a girl (at a party, as it turns out they did) be a problem, unless "meeting a girl" or "liking somone" has a different meaning for Chinese youth.
I probed further; "What do you mean- exactly- that you met someone?"
"Oh, I have sex with her... and her friend.... and HER friend."

Oh.

So, Will and Cecilia are officially over now. I had no idea that Will was such a stud. Maybe that's why he needs to keep his underwear on the walls- to cool them off.
Anyway, between this ganache in the kitchen and the ganache I live with, I am just keeping my fingers crossed that these last few days arent quite as emotional as they have been for people around me.
One can only hope.