I spend the majority of my days in Paris in sauna-like conditions, which include but are not limited to: my sans air conditioning apartment, the crowded, sweaty locker rooms at LCB where we are required to change out of uniform before we leave the premises, the [might-as-well-be-wearing-winter-parkas-they’re-so-thick] uniforms of LCB (jacket, pants, apron, hat, towel) and the sweat induced by classroom “pressure-cooking” I call it, since chef is always lurking or hovering somewhere, ready to pounce on you. It’s not anything like Betty Homemaker taking her sweet ol’ time to bake a pie in the comfort of her own home. Plus, I think I’ve sweated extra this week since I have been assigned as one of three class delegates. Therefore I have the responsibility of retrieving, setting up and returning ingredients from the basement and pantry to the classroom. For these reasons, I cannot find my appetite. Where has it gone?
Thus I have been eating ‘lighter’, ‘summery’ fare such as tomatoes, avocadoes, bell peppers and pesto. I feel like a vegetarian!
Jamón Bellota at L’Atelier de Jöel Robuchon
So after the tomato salad I made for dinner tonight, I realized that although I may not be hungry, I still have last week’s dinner on my mind. More specifically, the unctuous sensation of pork melting between my tongue and palate lives on. Yes, Jamón Bellota, I miss you. You were the best I ever had and I want you back.