My pup, stage, and Paris pastries

So I slacked again. 3 months and 17 days to be exact since I have last written. So much has happened since…been home for Christmas, then flew back again in an emergency for my dog who I held and kissed as the doctor injected a serum that will take him away from me forever, leaving me with nothing but memories of how he felt under my hands as I rubbed the soft pads of his paws. I flew back to Paris one week later to what I thought would be the beginning steps of my new career, one that I had abandoned my family, my dear pup for.

While I never thought interning at a 3 Michelin star restaurant would be a fairytale, weeks into the stage showed that it was more of a nightmare than I thought. Or rather, they had more than adequate staff and apprentices, which left me and my classmate with nothing to do but clean. And make dishes shiny with vinegar. For about 2-3 hours a day out of a 9am-12am day. Work was long, and while there was ample time for training during certain hours of our service, learn we did not. We did a lot of fruit preparation, mise en place, and out of the entire five weeks I was there, I occasionally made syrup infusions and a lemon pound cake for their ice cream pre-dessert. Tired of being treated like the extra odd-jobs help and cleaning staff, I took a leap and quit, in hopes of finding somewhere else to train.

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During this time, I’ve managed to visit a lot of smaller pastry shops that took me to corners of Paris I would have never visited before. One particular trip took me to the crowded corners of 18th, where I’ve visited for my first time (or at least walked around the perimeters of the) Sacré-Cœur, weaved my way down the cobblestone steps between the tourists munching away at cheap ham & cheese sandwiches purchased nearby and lovebirds sharing lengthy kisses.

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Accustomed to the inflated prices for pastries in Paris, I found Boris Lumé to be more than reasonable for its fare. Ok, fine… I was ecstatic that I’m only paying €4.5 max per one cake.

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My favorite was their Manguier, made with a soft and dense coconut sponge, light vanilla cream, a slightly tart mango gelée, creamy rich fresh mango pieces, and a crunchy pate sucre. While their cake could have been less dense, I couldn’t find fault in it for its price.

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Their millefeuille was a somewhat novel presentation. I liked how they put large bits of caramelized feuilletage on top of one layer to add the crunch that would have otherwise been missing if it soaked up moisture from the vanilla cream.

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Their orange sanguine tart was simple- with fresh sweet blood oranges on top of a thick cream base.

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Perhaps the one I was most excited about was also the one that disappointed me the most. Beautiful in presentation, but somehow, the elements of matcha ganache, vanilla cream, raspberries, and black sesame feuilletine failed to work together.

After washing down the sweetness with a croissant, I wandered through the bustling Rue des Abbesses, down past one gigantic walkway of sex shops (yes it’s the street where Moulin Rouge is). I never stopped until I felt like the chilly Paris wind could carry away all my troubles.

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