A Birthday in Paris

I arrived at CDG Sunday evening. Met up with my European sales rep, and headed to Issoudan for a customer meeting the next day. It was a three hour drive from Paris through the countryside, unfortunately at night when it was hard to see. After our meeting that morning, we made our way to Versailles where we stayed the night. The riots had calmed down a little at this point, but we still had some fun navigating around where the yellow vests had blocked.

The evening of November 26th was spent in good company with Stephane and friend Baptiste, who I met through CouchSurfing in Dallas years ago, and a big ol' half wheel of stinky cheese. I've had raclette before, but never in the traditional fashion. It has always been brought out, already melted, on a plate with some fingerling potatoes. This day, I got to eat the real deal and it was all I had ever hoped and dream for. Although the ride back to Versailles was absolutely miserable; I don't think I've ever eaten so much food, not to mention this much cheese in one setting. It doesn't look like much but trust me- that was a LOT of cheese.

  

Although I have been to Paris many times, I had not been to Versailles. After the morning meeting, we walked the gardens a bit- This place is HUGE! And I mean huge, beyond huge. How nice it would have been to be royalty back in the day- I could have wandered these grounds for hours every day! After another successful meeting, Stephane dropped me of at the Champs, which only 2 days prior, was covered in broken glass and other riot remains. Totally calm, however, like nothing had happened. Surreal almost.

I then began my 45 minute pilgrimage to Le Murice, where I had hoped to meet Cedric Grolet, world famous pastry chef (he won world's best this year), and eat one of his beautiful and supremely expensive deserts. I arrived at the employee entrance, which looked so nice I thought it was the main entry. Main entry was closed. THE PASTRY SHOP HAD CLOSED EARLY - SOLD OUT. "Cedric is here sometimes" one of the men said, as I died on the inside. Was he there today? Should I have asked this, or would they have mentioned? HOW CAN I MEET THIS GOD OF PASTRIES!? I would have broken down that fancy door right into that kitchen. Never in my life have I wanted to meet someone so badly, and tell them how much I admired their work. All the way from Dallas, TX, I stood in the rain unable to comprehend why I was unable to do to one thing I had dreamed of on my birthday and admitted defeat. Defeated, I found a a bar with snacks, had a few beers and began to work on this blog, which I have been horrible about doing for quite some time now. At least that came of it, but I left feeling sad and empty inside. Dear Cedric, I will be back.

Baptiste decided to make dinner. And of course, more cheese- fondue! We hit up the local cheese shop, bought a baguette and birthday pastry, and headed back to his flat to prepare the melty goodness. When I inquired about putting meat in the fondue, he quickly proceeded to tell me that no such adultery of cheese would be allowed inside his apartment. If I wanted to put anything other than bread in that pot, it could be done outside in the hallway, away from view. I accepted, and instead remained inside for the night. A few friends came to join, then the cheese and wine feast began.

After all the fondue was eaten up, Baptiste came out of the kitchen with a block of Rochefort, two sticks of lit incense poked inside. What else could I ever ask for? A most excellent birthday indeed.