Several years ago–nine, specifically–I discovered the restaurant, The French Laundry. And, yes, even nine years ago I was obsessed with all things French. I looked up the website and concluded that the restaurant was worth obsessing over, so I added it to my proverbial bucket list.
Then–THEN–I found this blog, and it gave me my love and skill for French cooking.
Hahaha, just kidding. I just learned how to cook a piece of chicken all the way through. Delicate, flaky pastries and bouillabaisses are completely out of my wheelhouse.
But I did love the blog and read it religiously, and I delighted in someone trying (and mostly succeeding!) to replicate the fancy dishes using such complicated and involved cooking methods. I mean…bard, assation, fold? WHAT DO THESE WORDS MEAN IN A COOKING CONTEXT?!
This summer, I had the good fortune to eat at The French Laundry in California. You guys! The entire meal was beautiful and delectable and rich and creative and…lots of other positive descriptors I can’t be bothered to think of right now. It was worth every single Tubman (ha!).
Back at home, I haven’t been able to forget about this meal (and the lovely, ambient French experience. Soooo… I made an exception to my rule about not buying more physical books (because of a lack of storage space), and I bought The French Laundry Cookbook.
Because it’s not available on Kindle and BECAUSE HOW COULD I NOT?
I’m going to learn so many complicated cooking methods and master so many cream-based sauces that people are gonna be like–“Oh mah gah, Kristin, did you grow up in Paris or did you just graduate with honors from Le Cordon Bleu?”
I’m not sure which lie I’m gonna go with yet. Probably the growing up in Paris one.