Et voila! Charity Mann, the blog. Notice I used a French phrase there. Fancy.
A little background on this whole scenario is probably appropriate, so that's where I'll start.
Way back in March, I discovered that City Palate (the local foodie magazine) was accepting applicants for a culinary travel grant, meaning they were going to give one lucky recipient airfare and spending money for a trip to pretty much anywhere in the world to go eat, cook, and learn. Amazing opportunity, right? I mean I've had the fantasy of traveling around the globe on someone else's dime since I was a teenager (clearly I watched too much Lonely Planet). It's only gotten more appealing since I started cooking. So I did what anyone would do, and I submitted my resume and a letter of recommendation along with an essay detailing where I would go if chosen, why it was my choice, and what I would hope to do and learn.
I was chosen as the recipient of the grant. Here's the essay that did it for me:
When I was 17, I went to France. I spend a week and a half on a home-stay in Brittany, and then headed to Paris with a group of kids from my school to see the sights and do the tourist thing. The trip was a huge deal for me. France, in my 17 year old brain, represented all that was exotic, sophisticated, and glamorous. However, like most teenagers, I was more interested in talking with friends and styling my hair than taking in the history and culture around me. I took less than 50 photos, most of which are of stained glass windows. The “keep-sakes” I purchased to commemorate my time in France were a pair of Spice Girls platform sneakers. I filled my travel journal with juicy gossip about my fellow travelers, and neglected to write anything about the country, the people, the sights... you get the point. I was too young to really appreciate the trip and the experience.
At that point in my life I had no inkling that I would end up with a career in the kitchen and had little interest in food beyond le Big Mac. Oddly, in a way that is almost cliché to kitchen folk, nearly all of my memories from the trip center around food. I remember trying a savory crêpe at a traditional crêperie in Brittany. I’d had crêpes before, but only sweet ones. It was a light buckwheat pancake with crispy edges filled with “real” ham and cheese. I remember eating a sandwich made on baguette. It was a part of a simple school lunch, and I ate it sitting on a pier with my host family’s daughter. I was particularly struck by the flavor of the butter and the bread. I experienced my first cheese board, ate strawberry tarts, rich full fat yogurt, and the most perfect chocolate ice cream of my life. I’m not going to claim that these food experiences are responsible for setting me on my culinary path, because they aren’t. But I can’t help but think about these experiences with the luxury of hindsight and wonder what kind of memories I would have of France if I knew then what I know now.
Since that trip I’ve become decidedly more interested in food. Some might say obsessed with food, actually. I followed my heart and I became a cook. I studied la cuisine classique and haute cuisine both in formal school settings and on my own. I’ve worked and interned in restaurants in Calgary and San Francisco that have a decidedly French approach. I’ve come to prefer making and eating simple food made with local and seasonal ingredients, an approach which I feel exemplifies la nouvelle cuisine. I’d say my style of cooking is French, but it seems almost presumptuous to say so, as I haven’t eaten or cooked in France at any point during my career.
If awarded the City Palate Culinary Travel Grant, I would use it for a do-over, which is to say, I would travel to France to revisit the settings of my memories and use my knowledge and experience in the kitchen to really fully explore French cuisine, from homemade meals to high end restaurant food.
I would start my trip in Brittany or Normandy as a WWOOFer. I’d like to see what the food and kitchens of rural France are like. I’d get my hands dirty, pull weeds, and participate in the preparation and consumption of true earth-to-table meals. I’d experience French home cooking at it’s best, where ingredients have been lovingly raised and treated with respect. I’d endeavour to meet some French home cooks, and learn regional recipes and family specialities. I’d experience some AOC products at their source and get a feeling for the terroir. The other part of my trip would be spent in Paris eating. I would eat everywhere from street vendors to bistros to Michelin-starred restaurants. I would visit bakeries, butchers shops, épiceries, fromagiers, and pâtissiers. I would wander through markets, sit at cafés. I would track down that chocolate ice cream to see if it’s as good as I remember.
Overall, I’d hope to come away from the experience with a full belly and a richer understanding of French cuisine and the culture of their food. I’d use the experience to reinforce the principles of French cookery that I have taken to heart and adopted as my own. I’d aspire to be inspired by everything I saw and smelled and ate, and use these things to fuel my creativity and passion... Oh, and I’d like to take photos of something other than stained glass windows.
