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Review of my experience vis à vis David Lebovitz

January 17, 2011

Well, as you may have surmised, last week I was fortunate enough to be graced with the presence of one of my major cookery idols: David Lebovitz.

The class itself comprised some 45 Fort Worth natives, myself, and friend Jessica. Held at the Fort Worth Central Market, I had initially pictured the class to involve receiving a bit of lecture, while simultaneously actually getting to prepare one or two dishes. Unfortunately for me, this was not the case, with the class maintaining a lecture format and only David doing any of the cooking.

Strike two was our seating conundrum. Heads up, if you are going to attend any sort of Central Market class, be sure to arrive VERY early…AND be sure to immediately go register. Jessica and I arrived about an hour early, but did not immediately go upstairs. Foolishly, we thought we had time to eat dinner in the café before going up ten minutes before the start time, and we literally ended up in the very last row.

Luckily, though, strike three never came, as from the moment I saw David walk out in a black button-down, trendy dark jeans, and a chef’s apron (waist-down), my mind became a single-focus recorder of every movement (“did he just whip the egg whites for that soufflé by HAND?! Yes. He did. ZOMG.”), tip (here’s one: flatter grapefruit, as opposed to spherical ones, taste better), and recipe (“was that pure chocolate? Or did he add cream??”).

Y’all…this man is awesome. He whipped out such nibbles as the floating island (a very traditional French café dessert featuring a wedge of baked yet tender meringue laid in a sumptuous pool of ice cold crème anglaise) topped with a drizzle of blood orange caramel and candied almonds, and a delicately spiced hot chocolate cake that had the consistency of a just-solid lava cake, with a hint of Mexican spice to it (shhh – it’s ancho chile powder, but trust me, it tastes nothing like chile).

He regaled us with stories of his quest for French citizenship (evidently it helps if you’re a good-looking female) which has thus far been denied, and answered questions about the various desserts he prepared. And best of all? I got to talk to him after the class was over! Jessica and I waited in line to get his autograph on our cookbooks, so of course when it was my turn, the conversation went like this:

Lisa (barely waiting for the woman in front of her to shut up and pick up her autographed copy of The Sweet Life in Paris, which you should go buy): [bounces] “Hi!!!!!! I’m Lisa!!! You know, I quit my job after reading your post on why not to be a chef?!?!!! I want to go to pastry school in Paris!!! I’m Lisa!!!”

…[Jessica covers face with hands]…

At which point his eyebrows raised, he looked speechless for a moment, then subtly tried to warn me about my chosen path to insanity…

David: “Um…well…you might be better off going to school here…do you speak French?”

Me: “Oh, yes!!!”

David, unconvinced: “Oh. You know, I once had a friend who worked for a baker in Paris. She quit because he kept making her work really heavy batches of dough, and once he told her her blouse made her look delicious.”

Lisa (with exactly three months of experience AS A WAITER): “Oh yes, I know, working in a kitchen you have to be ready for anything!!!!”

David: “Yeah…well, the chef was also a retired fashion designer who didn’t speak very good English, so I think he was actually trying to be complimentary. Anyway, you should be fine. By the way, the recipe on the cover of this book [Ready for Dessert]? You should leave the frosting at room temperature. They cut that line out, I don’t know why.”

Lisa: “OK!!! I will!!!”

…David signs Lisa’s book and hands it back to her…

…awkward silence…

Lisa (gestures toward Jessica, and her copy of the Perfect Scoop): “Oh, you can keep talking while you sign hers!!! We’re together!!! She’s Jessica!!!!!!!!!!”

End scene.

Awesome, peeps. Awesome. I NEVER get starstruck, y’all. Never.

So, on that note, time to go have dinner with my family and dream of David’s cooking. Had a blast. 🙂 Thanks again, Jessica* at Fudgebudget, for drawing my attention to the proximity of David Lebovitz to myself. Made my 2011!

Note: There are two Jessicas in this story, one of whom (Jessica at Fudgebudget) does not live in Texas, and was thusly not the Jessica who was humiliated by my gushing at David Lebovitz. Jessica at Fudgebudget would probably be too busy with hero worship of her own to be affected by my ramblings of ridiculous, but who knows.

 

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Sarah permalink
    February 13, 2011 6:28 pm

    Um. LOL. That’s about it.

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