Pursuits of a Parisian Pâtissière

I love the smell of butter on my finger tips.  I love it when you make pastry and then wash your hands not well so the smell of butter lingers on your fingers and you feel buttery and warm.  I could rub it all over myself instead of spraying myself with perfume.  I would rather wea Butter by Abigail than Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel any day.

If you ask a pastry chef what is the most difficult aspect of their job, they reply: "not sleeping, working ridiculously long hours and low pay."

Then, you ask what is the most rewarding aspect of their job and they reply "coming home and smelling like cake."

This is why I want to become a pastry chef.  When I worked in a chocolate shop, my hair smelt like chocolate for days.  Even good shampoo does not leave your hair smelling sweet and cocoa-y for such a long time.

As I write this blog post and smell my buttery fingers I imagine the future; chocolate hair, buttery hands and a fruity body whipping up tart after tart and mille-feuille after mille-feuille.

I came to Paris, the land of opportunities, (hem) last month in search of fame and fortune in the pastry world.  I signed up to a patisserie school with an apprenticeship contract, meaning you need an employer to take you on in their kitchen, teach you, and pay you.  Once they decide to take you on, you alternate two weeks at the school and two weeks at the patisserie.

Finding a patisserie is a troublesome adventure.  The younger you are, the cheaper you are to employ.  Since I am over 21, I am quite expensive.  So what interest does a patisserie have to employ me, on a salary of 700 euros a month, next to a 16 year old only on 350 euros?

Luckily enough, I found one pâtisserie who were willing to give me a trial week so tomorrow I am going there to start my journey about all things sugar syrup.  And you know what? I can't wait.  

Posted on July 15, 2013 and filed under paris.