Walk a Mile in My Shoes...

Today I decided to take pictures on my way to work in order to share my daily commute with you! I am awakened every day at 6.45 to the wonderful “swing piano” ringtone of my mobile (also set a back-up “Global Atomic Radio Controlled” clock – I know, sounds incredibly official, yet not the most reliable as it always seems to change time zones in order to keep me on my toes). I make breakfast, put on glitter, throw in some crunches/push-ups to get those endorphins started, bid my Eiffel Tower au revoir and set off for a great day (full of competitions!) Rather than using the elevator, I skip-steps, bolting down nine flights of stairs with high heels in hand (a natural response after years of running stairs in gymnastics/running for dear life from my brothers after I did something mischievous at home). At the bottom of the stairs, I zip up my high-heeled boots, march through the double set of doors and confidently step onto the rue de la Convention.

On my way to the Metro, I pass a variety of boutiques, cafes, patisseries, butcher shop, flower shops, wine and cheese shops, small hotels, bookstores… I always greet the butchers with a big “Sarah Smile” as they wave and we exchange ‘bonjours.’ (Although I must admit, I am usually running down the street, temporary slow to a brisk walk past the butchers in order to say hi, then return back to the spazed-running pace). After descending the stairs into the Convention Metro, I swipe my “Navgo” pass at the card swipes and walk through the turn-still to gain entrance into the underground transportation. I usually jump on the second car and read/listen to my ipod during the fifteen minute ride to Concorde. I love the Concorde Metro station because the walls are adorned with the French constitution (Déclaration des Droits de l'Homme et du citoyen). Since spacing between the words is not present, it is a challenge to understand the phrases; however, it is a pleasant surprise when I can decipher the articles of the constitution.

After stepping off the Metro, I bound up three flights of stairs (bypassing the escalator), pass through a set of doors, climb another series of stairs and emerge onto Place de la Concorde… one of the most beautiful sights that I have ever encountered – rain or shine. Initially I crossed the rue de Rivoli, then waited at a red light in order to cross the street again; however, I have become wise in the ways of the street traffic. After the little ‘green means go man’ appears on the street light, I have a few seconds to scamper diagonally into the middle of the street, do a little dance and curtsey before the oncoming traffic cruises through the Parisian streets (ok, omit dance and curtsey, but I do make a mad-dash). As I pass Place de la Concorde, I see all of Paris in a nut-shell: The Champs Elysées, Eiffel Tower, Invalides, Madeline, Jardin de Tuileries, Assemblée Nationale, Grand Palace, Pont Alexandre III, La Seine, Place de la Concorde – all good things… great things indeed. As I walk past the grand entrance of Hotel de Crillon, the doormen take off their hats and nod as I smile and wave – it truly warms my heart to acknowledge my fellow employees. Because the American Embassy is located next to the Hotel de Crillon, Parisian military guards line the streets. I always greet the guards as I continue my way down the street between the American Embassy and Crillon. Upon entering the service entrance, I greet the security and hop down the flight of stairs into the basement.

Upon arrival, I exchange my dirty uniform from the previous day for a crisp new outfit. Adorned in pristine white, a new day begins at Crillon! Whenever I pass anyone in the hall, I always greet them with a big smile, no matter if I am completely exhausted or in a rush – I respect every single employee at the hotel because they truly take pride in their work. I cannot help but smile whenever someone shouts, “I love America!” “U-S-A” or sings “American Woman” or comments about anything relating to the States. It is comforting to hear such positive comments about home from everyone!

The past six months have been by far the most challenging of my entire life – and I have adored the entire experience. I am so thankful that I have had the opportunity to work in Michelin starred restaurants… and not simply peeling potatoes in the corner – but actually preparing food which is served to clients. The most frustrating aspect is the ‘slang’ communication – I am able to understand everything related to the culinary aspects and have no problem whenever Chef asks me to do something; but the day-to-day “slang” and the cultural references related to jokes are the most difficult to understand. However, I still smile, work diligently and push myself to learn something new each and every single day! I love the experience!

Two weeks... only two weeks remain in this City of Light! I know that Paris will always have a special place in my heart, and I am confident that I will return one day. In the meantime... I have been sending my CV and resume to Chefs across America. I am open to move anywhere and work anytime. Who knows… Arizona, Ohio, New York, California, Chicago, Washington DC, West Virginia, Las Vegas... although I will miss Paris, I will go where I am led and I will go joyfully. My parents have taught me that I can make the best of any situation by maintaining a positive attitude and always thinking about others. During the month of October I plan on volunteering for the presidential campaign, volunteering at local food banks and visiting Stephen and Susan in DC and Michael in Arizona. To quote my gymnastics quote from a previous interview, "What’s she going to do next..."

All my love from Paris,
SB =)

"There's No Crying in Pastry"

Hello family and friends!

Oh Christmas-time! A time for unselfishly sharing, giving and loving others… apparently not for this “Little Rude Girl.” Mom had dolloped a mound of fresh whipped cream atop the spiced pie and told me to wait for the lavish dessert… everyone would enjoy the delicacy together. Oooh, I wonder what’s coming next. The thirty-eight inch counter tops were no match for my tiny three year-old body. However, where there’s a will, there’s a way! As my family gathered in the family room in order to exchange laughs and cheer, I, in my tricksy-hobbit-like-state, creeped into the shadows and into the kitchen in order to sneak the cherished pumpkin pie! Oh, such wisdom and skill to successfully break away from the Baumert clan. Upon entering the kitchen, my eyes grew large after viewing the mound of dessert. After scurrying over to the counter, I mustered up as much strength as my little body could handle, stretched my hands over my head, stood on tippy-toes, and success!! I reached the plate! However, how long could I possibly stand in this awkward position? (although I did fall asleep in the splits once… another story). As I began to quiver and tremble, I slowly slid the plate from the counter. Tip, tip, tip, bull’s eye. Right onto my face, floor and feet. Overcome with grief, I began to wail. My family came running as they believed that I was injured. Caught! As they laughed harder and harder, I became more and more furious and my crushed sobs grew incessantly louder. I was caught, embarrassed, and my delicious treat was ruined. Serves me right! Definitely deserved that one!

Hotel de Crillon. I think I’m in love. Seriously, I absolutely adore my new stage in pastry. During the month of August, the majority of Parisians vacate the city and travel to the south of France to bask in the glorious sunshine and to enjoy and savor the warm summer nights. A plethora of Parisian shops, boutiques and prestigious restaurants close their doors during August in order to rejuvenate for the upcoming year. Since the Crillon gastronomy restaurant “Les Ambassadeurs” is closed this time, there is no pastry service during the day. However, each day I work with my chefs to make the various “tea time” desserts.

I shall describe one such dessert in detail: the Forêt-Noire. Chocolate spheres are first made by using plastic molds. The result is a hollow chocolate ball which has a diameter of about two inches. I then cut tiny circles from a chocolate genoise cake and drop the circles into a syrup of sugar, water and rum (yarr!) After making a cream of mascarpone cheese, liquid cream, powdered sugar and vanilla, I fill the chocolate balls with a cherry colis, imbibed chocolate genoise and cream mixture. Once filled, I turn the balls over and blow a ruby red glitter dust on the top surface. I think my fellow chefs enjoy seeing my face overcome with elation upon using the glitter (Honestly though, I believe that they prefer when I make this dessert because sometimes the glitter rebounds off the surface and lands on my face, as opposed to theirs… not too masculine. And bonus, as I do not have to reapply glittering makeup after lunch… ahh, it’s the little things in life!) After the celebration of glitter dust settles, I place each ball on a larger circle of chocolate genoise cake which rests on a small golden circular platter. Around the bottom of the sphere, I use a pastry bag with the mascarpone cream mixtures and pipe small balls to garnish the chocolate sphere. I then take a torch and heat a metal spatula. Carefully placing the tip of the spatula on the top of the chocolate sphere, a small line is melted away in order to place a tiny “C” made from chocolate (we drizzle chocolate over poles in order to make curled pieces which resemble the letter “C”). Crowning the “C” is a small piece of silver paper (edible). And voila. That is one dessert. One. The intricacies and details of each step are unbelievable! We also make truffles filled with hazelnut ganache which are placed on small chocolate cakes, raspberry tarts, chocolate ice cream cakes enrobed with liquid chocolate, no-bake cheesecake domes filled with apriot genoise cake, madelines, macaroons (not the coconut type which we are familiar with States-side, but I will describe the Parisian macaroons later), fruit plates, raspberry gazpachos, pastry creams, crème legere, crème anglaise, and a plethora of other delicacies!

My fellow chefs laugh whenever I make the pastry cream. Enormous amounts of milk (between three and six liters) are used. After boiling the milk and combining with the sugar and eggs, the mixture must be whisked quickly to prevent the eggs from coagulating and making a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs (just add some ketchup and you’re good to go). The French use the term “énergiquement” to describe the manner in which to whisk the cream (translated to “energetically” – so I always whisk with bright eyes and a big smile…). Sometimes my fellow chefs cheer when I turn the large pan over and they help scrap the cream from the pan. They even commented that my strength was attributed to the years of swimming (wow, it seems like an entire life-time ago!)

I adore my fellow chefs in both the pastry and cuisine kitchens. “KitchenS?” you might ask. Recently, I was given the opportunity to work in the cuisine kitchen in order to learn and work more (like a little sponge, soaking up as much as possible). Thus, after completing my work in pastry for the day, I enthusiastically bound over to the cuisine kitchen and begin my “second stage.” I told you that I love it! I am thrilled and blessed beyond belief in order to learn more! (I would even go to work on my weekends in order to incorporate more cuisine). I love the camaraderie; not only in the kitchen, but between the entire Crillon staff. I truly feel a part of the team and I love working hard (and representing America!) As I run (literally) from one station to the next, I always have a big smile and well, glitter (whoa, there’s a big surprise!) The employees are incredibly hard working and positive. My sous-chef, as well as others, skip lunch as they are constantly working without breaks. I look to each of them with the utmost respect. Even when they are exhausted, they execute their professions with perfection.

Although this was a shorter blog, I will send another update with more detail soon! In the meanwhile, I am thankful beyond words that I am essentially able to do another two stages (pastry and cuisine). It is a blessing which I will never forget! Where there’s a will, there’s a way… and I’m on my way :)

All my love from Paris,

SB =)

"Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle! All'alba vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!"

Hello Family and Friends!!

First of all… thank you so very very much for the wonderful birthday messages and emails!!! My gratitude is beyond words as each of you truly touched my life and took the time to think of me on my birthday. I really love you very much!! Thank you for making my twenty-third special!

If one had to choose a single country that adores celebrating its independence, I would have to say that the USA does so with flying colors (literally). However, France is a close second. On July 14, I woke up to an absolutely stunning morning: a baby-blue sky, shimmering sunbeams and a few wispy clouds resembling brush strokes across the Parisian horizon. The small trees and flowers decorating the Parisian flats across from chez moi radiated with life and vivid colors. The Bastille Day parade began at the l’Arc de Triomphe, continued along the Champs-Élysées, then divided into two separate parades in order to “cover more ground” and span the entire city (spread the love, right?) Rather than heading directly to the Champs-Élysées and securing a spot that guaranteed seeing only the heads of the crowds in front of me or using a periscope, I decided to mark my territory elsewhere. I found the perfect spot: next to Madeleine (a Neo-classical style church constructed in 1764 to the glory of Napoleon's army). Fret not, by marking my territory I simply wore my enormous black hat which not only protected me from the glorious sunshine rays, but also kept spectators from crowding too closely since the diameter is so obnoxiously large. But I digress… although I was able to witness only one-half of the parade, the soldiers and artillery were in perfect front-row view. Ultimately, I do believe that the wise knight in Indiana Jones’ Raiders of the Lost Arc would have concluded that, I too, “chose wisely.” (It would have been bad news to have “chosen poorly” and joined those interred in the catacombs under the city of Paris).

I absolutely adored the parade since it was entirely devoted to the celebration and honor of the troops. Goose bumps covered my body as the regiments proudly marched past the adoring crowds, singing their respective anthems and holding their heads high. A few of the troops included:

Troop of the 1st Regiment of Spahis – wearing long, regal tan capes with white fur trim, blue hats, large red belts, machine guns

Troop of the Pioneers of the French Foreign Legion's 1st Regiment Etranger – seriously, I think they were lumberjacks… they had long beards, brown smocks, and hatchets. The leader of their troop resembles Santa Clause (though less jolly and French… ok, but he had a white beard)

Troop of the 1st Engineers regiment of the French Foreign Legion – white hats and tan berets

Alphajets of “La Patrouille de France”, (French Air Force acrobatic team)

A plethora of other regiments, military artillery (enormous tanks, jeeps, etc.) helicopters and planes paraded through the Parisian streets and skies. Parachutes even decorated the sky with the UN and EU flags. As each of the regiments passed, the crowd applauded their commitment and loyalty. I was instantly reminded of my own cousins, Paul, David and Danny – US Marines and Army Ranger - and how proud I am of their hard work and allegiance to our country. It was very encouraging to see the troops celebrated and honored… they deserve such respect!

As I commented before, although I missed the Ohio “Red White and Boom” and the Upper Arlington celebrations of years past, I did witness the firework celebration at the Eiffel Tower. Glorious. A pop concert began at 19.00 and featured an array of French singers. At 22.30, the lights of the Eiffel Tower immediately darkened as a hush spread across the enormous crowd (seriously, I could be wrong, but I do believe that the entire city of Paris was crowded in the Champs de Mars (gardens surrounding the Eiffel Tower). The glittering fireworks cascaded a frame around the monument as spectators cooed the universal language of “oohs and ahhs.” I must admit, I did miss Neil Diamond’s rendition of “Coming to America,” though my Parisian fireworks were accompanied with Opera and Classical music. French Composer Jacques Offenbach’s “Can-Can” saturated the air, causing my dancing feet to begin to move! A chill of pride shot through my body upon hearing Luciano Pavarotti sing “Nessum Dorma”. The ending of the song is incredibly impressive… “Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle! All'alba vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!” ("Vanish, o night! Set, stars! Set, stars! At daybreak I shall win! I shall win! I shall win!”) – The B4 and final A4 notes are the highest notes of the tenor range… as Pavarotti’s voice filled their air, the Eiffel Tower began to glitter and the fireworks continued to illuminate the sky… it was almost too much to handle… almost! Definitely received goose bumps for a second time that day!

My next update will include details about my stage at Hotel de Crillon! I absolutely adore the hard work and constant learning experience. I wanted to thank each of you again for taking the time to think of me on my birthday. I truly treasure your notes and words of encouragement! Thank you!

All my love from Paris,

SB =)

"Fly Me to the Moon..."

Hello Family and Friends!

Happy belated Fourth of July!!! Granted, I missed the Red, White and Boom “firesmack” (firework) celebration, parades, high school reunion (five years already?!) and picnics; however, I spent an amazing evening in Cannes, France (yes, famous for the annual Cannes Film Festival and seemingly adoring city of “Brangelina”). After enjoying a dinner of fresh sushi at the Havanna Room (I loved the pink salmon pared with the pastel-green avocado, black-tinted-gold seaweed and snow white rice against the white square plate), I walked along the Boulevard de la Croisette. Good things truly do come in small packages when visiting this small fishing village. Despite having only two major roads, Boulevard de la Croisette and Rue d’Antibus, the sister city of Beverly Hills can compete with the world’s best. Haute Couture, fashion and jewelry designers, perfumes and cream boutiques, luxury hotels, prestigious restaurants, dominating yachts and sleek sail boats… the crème de la crème. Even the perfectly manicured window displays exude class. Definitely the type of boutiques that if you find yourself inquiring re: the price of an item, you should simply turn around and mosey on toward the exit. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. I was absolutely content to be window shopping and allowing my imagination to be set free!

The Boulevard de la Croisette, essentially a smaller, more tropical Champs Elysées, was bursting forth with life on the Fourth of July. Although no celebrations of liberty were evident, I did hear music in the distance and hastened my pace in order to find the source of the joy! I noticed a crowd gathered across the street from the Carlton Inter-Continential hotel. Not too shabby spending an evening listening to live jazz music. I immediately joined the other spectators with pure elation in my heart and laughter in my soul. I absolutely adored watching the crowd clapping their hands to the beat of the music (and yes… some dreadfully off the beat, but still loving life), young couples dancing on the large boardwalk and children dropping coins into the open musical instrument cases of the performers. Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Dean Martin… jazz songs permeating the air ("Fly Me to the Moon," "What a Wonderful World," "New York, New York" etc.) Spotlights illuminated the cream stone and green thatched roof of the glamorous Carlton palace. Palm trees swaying in the warm July evening sea breeze. The proud yachts and sailboats dazzling on the moonlit blue waves. The white concrete bench lining the boardwalk radiating with changing neon red, orange, blue, white and green hues. The Cartier, Chanel and Valentino boutique signs were shining confidently against the navy-blue sky. I so enjoyed having time to think of each of you… celebrating the freedom of our country with family, friends, Olympic Trials, work, fighting for our freedom, picnics, “firesmacks” (ok… fireworks), high school reunions, parades, sparklers and those great little white balls that you throw on the ground and cause a slight heart-attack to those unaware…mischievous indeed…

Growing up, I always celebrated the Fourth of July on top of the family van. No, not a “van down by the river”; rather, a van parked on North High Street in Columbus, Ohio with my family. Still doesn’t sound too promising, eh? Allow me to explain… we always loved the Red, White and Boom firework celebration… what isn’t there to like… glittering balls of fire that were orchestrated and choreographed to upbeat, patriotic music… all good things. And yes, the show always lived up to the reputation of being “so much better than last year!” In order to enjoy the celebration, my family and I would hop into the car with blankets, pillows, snacks and sparklers, and drive to the same location every year. My brothers would hoist me onto the roof of the van, once parked mind you, and I would bury myself into a sea of blankets and pillows. Everyone would join in a chorus of “oohs” and “ahhs” as the dominating ‘booms’ filled the air and glitter cascaded from the sky. Here’s the best part… once the final firesmack… umm… smacked, the Baumert clan mysteriously transformed into the A-Team. Moving at warp-speed, we would fly into the van and maneuver our way from our coveted spot as quickly as possible. Must avoid the traffic at any cost... And the reason for our ultra fast departure? The following morning we were up before dawn’s early light… someone was either swimming and/or in the UA Parade. Reflecting back on our memories, I cannot help but laugh! I am filled with joy as I remember dancing with the sparklers (although mightily disappointed whenever the breeze was too strong and the sparklers would not light), throwing the “snap pops” with my mighty-child strength, laughing with my brothers and parents… I loved the fact that we were able to run free and dance (and have a glorious view from the top of the car… bonus). Hilarious memories!

Although my Cannes celebration was quite different, I loved visiting the south of France. Handprints of famous Hollywood stars line the Palais des Festivals et des Congrès. I remember a few years ago when Michael, Stephen and I were home during Christmas and were watching “Walker Texas Ranger” together. During the particular show, Chuck Norris continually fought evil… but in order to be ultimately victorious, he performed his secret weapon move… the “round-house kick.” I remember laughing as Chuck Norris round-house kicked one antagonist, then another, then yet another… we about died laughing when it was shown in slow-motion. Despite the move being overplayed a ridiculous amount of times, we have continued to this day laughing about the infamous “round-house kick.” You can imagine my amusement when I found Chuck Norris’ handprints. I immediately snapped a photo and then knelt down to compare my hand size with the glorious star. Perfect match. I have never laughed so hard.

Yes I am a woman. Yes I have large hands. Deal with it.

Maybe it was a sign that if I just work hard enough, I too can master the “round-house kick.” Ok seriously… if I never write “round-house kick” again, it will not be soon enough… Actually, as I was laughing, a retired French couple inquired about the American actor. As I explained that everyone is always amazed with my hand size, the incredibly glamorous woman mischievously grinned and held out her hand… her hand was slightly bigger than mine!! I could not believe it! We laughed and she said that ‘true quality women have large hands.’ True story. What are the chances…

I did actually swim in the Mediterranean Sea… it was the first time that I have enjoyed being back in the water in years! The crystal blue water called me as the sunlight cascaded glittering rays onto the waves. Literally… the water was shining and the sand was composed of thousands of colored pebbles… ambers, topaz, emeralds, amethysts… the colors were incredibly vivid and vibrant. The sweet salt immediately wakened my senses (and also served as a natural body exfoliate… good times!)

Cannes is an exquisite and majestic city. I truly enjoyed my time and short reprieve from Paris. However, I was quite jovial upon seeing my glittering Eiffel Tower on my return home. On 7 July, I began my new pastry stage at Hotel de Crillon… I absolutely adore this palace… and literally, it is a palace. I have met so many people in France who adore the fact that I am in the culinary world. When I tell them about the Crillon, they definitely respond with large eyes and “ohhs and ahhs.” I was even given the response, “you’re not just learning pastry… you’re learning the art of pastry!” This first week has been amazing. I have been learning so much thus far… making pastry creams, hazelnut and chocolate ganaches, cherry flans, chocolate cakes, butter cookies, mille-feuilles… the list goes on and on… but that is for my next blog!

In the mean time, Bastille Day is 14 July! I can absolutely relate with Gertrude Stein and her feeling of, “America is my country and Paris is my hometown.” There is just something here… something calling me and something comforting about this particular country and about this particular time in my life. I do not know how much longer I will be in Paris (depending on work and visas, etc)… three months, one year, two years… who knows! But I am thankful for each and every single day! So Happy Fourth of July America and Happy Bastille Day France! I love you all so very very much!!!

All my love from Paris!!!

SB =)