On Shallots and Only What Matters

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Did I ever tell you about the time I cried while cutting a shallot?

I took a cooking class in the Latin Quarter of Paris last September (Le Foodist, highly recommend it) and in group classes like that, everyone has a multiple jobs. I stirred the custard for the homemade French vanilla bean ice cream every 4 minutes, balled turnips, diced herbs and, among other things, I cut the shallots.

Chef Fred demonstrated the proper technique and I got to work. I took a breath and could smell the sweet soft scent of this onion-like bulb with every pass of my knife. Methodical, sensory, cut, slide, smell, feel. I felt myself tear up and be on the verge of a legit cry. I was in a kitchen in a foreign land, cutting a shallot, preparing a meal with strangers, learning new things and I realized it was the first time in too long that I let myself feel something just for the sake of feeling it. I was inspired and deep in my gut happy, ready to cry in public.

That day in that Parisian kitchen was on to something.

I don’t think I need to actually cry in public (all that frequently at least) but there’s something to zeroing in on all of the things that matter, the goals at hand and releasing everything else that I want to remember about that day.

To carrying with me only what matters.

I love this photo because a gorilla could have been strangling me and I would still have been stirring and smiling and drinking wine- absolutely nothing was going to phase me that day. My intention is that 2016 being more of that kind of joyful, present, grounded, inspired living.

To only what matters.

 

Paris: Always a City of Light

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September 2015 Paris

I took this photo on September 13th from the window of the apartment I was staying in with friends in the 7th arrondissement. Shortly after, we took a bottle of champagne to the Eiffel Tower and popped it open right as the lights display began. We were surrounded by people doing the same and when the lights kicked on, the reaction was cheering, clapping, people hugging, kissing, celebrating. It wasn’t a special night per se. The Eiffel Tower glitters with light every night from 9pm to 1am but there is an undercurrent of joy, of celebration, of togetherness that pulses through Paris and it feels natural to let that undercurrent carry you. So… Champagne. Hugging. Toasting. Together.

Obviously, 2 months after this photo was taken was a very different scene in Paris and it goes without saying that the terror attack that unfolded on Friday was horrific and evil and many, many thoughts and prayers have been with the victims and their families ever since.

I leave this here with the sentiment that there is no darkness that can stifle the light of a community, of a culture that carries it with them so strongly as the people of Paris do. Paris is and will always be the City of Light.

In 10 Years

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le deux magot

I remember sitting at Les Deux Magot 10 years ago at a table outside tucked in a corner. It was cold, Spring just hitting Paris, and I was finishing “A Moveable Feast.” I read a lot of Hemingway and Fitzgerald while backpacking after my study abroad was over so going to one of their old haunts was one of the first things I did after getting off the train at Gare du Nord. I treated myself to a cup of coffee so I could sit at that tiny table as long as I wanted; I was 20 years old and even though I was coming off of what I see now as an incredibly ballsy time period in my life, I remember sitting in that cafe entirely caught up in “Would I make the right decisions in college, what should I do for my career, where should I live, do I really like my friends, would I fall in love again?” Basically, would everything be okay? Would I be able to do it, whatever “it” was?

I was back at that same cafe a few weeks ago. The sun was shining, the benefit of Summer spilling into Fall, and I was passing by after spending several hours in a cooking class. I treated myself to a glass of champagne so I could sit at that tiny table as long as I wanted. I watched the bubbles rise and burst and when I entertained some new questions floating through my mind, I thought…

Yes.

Yes, everything will be okay.

Yes, you will be able to do it.

In the past 10 years, each of those questions were answered in one way or another. A decision is the right one simply based on the fact that you made it and everything absolutely works out even if it doesn’t because you are strong enough, smart enough, capable enough to move toward what is next. Turning 30 didn’t really mean anything to me, I had no list of 30 things I learned, but sitting in the sun on the sidewalk at Les Deux Magot remembering so viscerally who I was the last time I was there made me realize that the difference in the last 10 years is that I have learned that win, lose or draw, I’ve got this. It’s going to be okay, it is already okay, you’ve got this.

And you know what else? That independent, ballsy girl was still there on that patio. Coffee or champagne, some things never change.

Cheers.

LDM