-Adventures from the Kitchenette-

My first foray into the complex world of a foreign kitchen ended in disaster.  Not complete disaster - I was still able to eat most of what I made - but some went straight in the trash.

Because many students have vacation this week, Mme Fleury's daughter Alice is skiing in the Alps, and Eleanor-the-girl-from-Chicago disappeared, leaving only a note hinting at some European travels.  That leaves Mme Fleury, Picasso, Ouchga (the other cat, and no, I'm not sure this is how it's spelled), and myself.  Let me just say the dinner conversations have been slightly awkward, and last night Mme told me I sounded like a duck.  I should also mention that I have a cold.

But tonight, Mme went out to dinner with a friend and told me I was welcome find something to eat in the kitchen.  No problem-bread and cheese it is.

However, it was too liberating to be able to cook for myself, something I've really missed since arriving a month ago.  And so I embarked on a small cooking adventure.  Small because the kitchen is really a kitchenette, which is really a cupboard with a fridge and a table.

This is the recipe I was attempting: 

1. Melt butter in a small saucepan, add the flour & stir until smooth. Slowly add the milk, whisking until thick. Remove from heat. Add the salt, pepper, & nutmeg. Stir in the Parmesan and 1/4 cup of the grated Gruyère cheese.

2.Toast bread slices in the oven.

3. Put mustard on toasted bread. Add the ham slices and about 1 cup of the remaining Gruyère cheese.

4. Spoon the béchamel sauce on top of the sandwich and top with extra cheese.

This is what happened:

1. I buttered and toasted my bread, applied mustard, and whatever cheese I found in the fridge.  Definitely not Gruyère.

2. I heated up milk in a mug in the microwave, then stirred in pepper and nutmeg.  

3. I searched for flour...and found a a box labeled something-something-something-farine (flour).  I stirred some of this into my warm milk, and popped it back in the microwave.

4. I forgot the microwave mixture, and when I found it it had expanded into a gummy flour monster.  After tasting the gummy mass, I threw it in the trash and tried again...in a saucepan.

5. I had no cheese to put in the sauce or on top.

6. I poured the slightly-better sauce over my hamless sandwich, and enjoyed a peaceful, homecooked dinner in Paris.

Lesson learned: Cooking in Paris does not automatically equal Parisian cooking.