Before I started getting serious with pâtisserie – more clearly, before I started waking up at three am and actually enjoy it – I must confess I felt quite confident with many things. From making pâte feuilletee to piping meringues; from assembling a series of entremets to decorating a cake.

Those were the things I was comfortable with. However, it didn’t take long for me to realise that even with some of them, there would be some sort of hitches.

Read: glazing a mille-feuilles. Period.

The concept itself doesn’t seem delicate. I mean, it’s just a matter of fondant. First pour the white fondant, then pipe thin lines of chocolate fondant – made dark by the addition of cocoa powder -, and stripe using a knife.

However, the realisation recquires special care.

The fondants have to be tempered, and at same temperature for best results. The chocolate fondant lines have to be piped very quickly after the white fondant has been spread all over the feuilletage top. The stripes have to be made with the back of the knife, and quite obviously, this must happen fast, before the fondant gets a chance to set.

Definitely not undoable, yet definitely not doable without having seen it at least once.

So tonight, I thought I’d thank you all for your kindness by showing you how we – at pâtisserie Lac – glaze our mille-feuilles.

And to be honest, I really felt like sharing something new over here, but didn’t have the courage to write a long recipe down, especially knowing what a busy day tomorrow is going to be. The fact that today was lazily spent with my boyfriend, daydreaming, sleeping, cuddling, and contemplating the beauty of Autumn might play a role as well.

Please welcome this short animation – featuring the hands of my favourite person from Montpellier, namely Alexis – warmly.

PS. ‘raye, raye’ translates to ’stripe, stripe’. I, apparently, had a strong desire to express myself in French at the time I put this together.

Then, you just have to clean the sides by running a spatula around them when the fondant is set, and finally, slice the mille-feuilles using a sharp serrated knife.

That’s all for today me friends. I know, I know… But since you’re the most amazing readers ever, and I’m lucky enough to have you and some other supportive people around me, I shall share more and more recipes.

Good night. Don’t dream too much about mille-feuilles, although it seems very tempting!

Today I have a little contextual-behaviour exercise for you. Nothing overly difficult, but you’ll definitely end up with a positive knowledge on human actions and needs-related brains-alteration mechanisms.

So please, keep your pens and paper sheets on the table, and drop your bags near the exit door.

You have exactly one hour to complete the exercise. After the time is up, turn in your copies at the desk.

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1. Context
Take one upbeat, passionate, and somewhat stubborn (not to mention adorable) person; namely: Fanny, me. Place her into a pâtisserie laboratoire for a year.

2. Assignment
Observe and document her behaviour.

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Okay, it was mean to trick you into this whole exercise thing. I know how stressful exam conditions can be (by the way, I passed my CAP pâtisserie, yeah!). I just meant to make a – terribly not funny –

joke (but, hey, I haven’t changed that much over the year).

Now is time for me to be honest and reveal what actually happened during those past twelve months (some events shall be kept secrets forever though due to their random, obnoxious or simply boring characteristics; other had to just because of the inexistence of photographic proof).

I passed my CAP – I know I lamely ruined the effet de surprise a couple of paragraphs above – , but well, I was TOO excited not to tell you (be glad I waited one hundred and twenty two words to disclose the news).

I got covered in more chocolate mousse, praliné, guimauve… than I thought was even possible.

I called Lenôtre my cantine.

I got the sweetest acorn – fake – tattoo ever.

I made a good million of tarts. Not to mention fraisiers. (or as a matter of fact, pretty much every entremet the boutique sells). And yet, I’m still in love with Pascal’s pâtisserie.

I met a strange snorkeler.

I drank way too many diabolo kiwi [kiwifruit syrup, plus lemonade], to cure hangovers.

I stumbled upon the coolest girl (and she blogs too) in the entire world while I was busy being an Amerindian. In case you’re wondering, pink is our favourite colour.

Oh and here it comes…

I forgot I had a foodblog.

Period. Double period.

And it made me sad. Because the business of life set aside, the other reason behind the one-post-a-month phenomenon is that I just felt like what I made wasn’t good enough. Happily a snorkelling passerby managed to make me love foodbeam again.

Oh and here it comes…

Happy fourth birthday foodbeam.

No period. No double period.

I’ll be back here soon. With the glamourous, the delicious, and the random. Heart you. xx

Now, I know it’s not spring – let alone summer – yet, and the fact that some of my friends went skiing today should clearly prove me wrong, but something great is coming up. The air, the light. Everything just feels pretty pretty.

I’m busy. With life. With being happy.

My afternoons are lazily spent at the beach or in the mountains, sunbathing and dreaming about new entremets to make. A lovely dinner follows, after which I go to bed. Early. A few hours later, I wake up only to find my dreams have come true. Eight hours of pâtisserie. And I still feel excited and thrilled, just like I did on the very first day.

The nice sunny days that look upon us are definitely having an effect at the pâtisserie as well. Everyday, more and more refreshing pastries find their way out of the laboratoire. Fraisiers, macarons, entremets and… tartes.

Many beautiful fruit tarts. I love them. And I’m super*happy to be the one who gets to make them.

Amongst my favourites you’ll find the superb tarte aux framboises [raspberry tart] and the tarte tutti frutti [mixed fruits tart].
Both are a delight to make. I just love to arrange to fruits on top of a fluffly crème légère (vanilla crème pâtissière, lightened with whipped cream, sooo soft and fragrant), and see the colourful patterns become real.

The tarte aux framboises

The first time I made this, I almost cried from despair. My tart was anything but sweet. My chef even asked if the icing-sugar-dusted raspberries were rotten because they definitely looked a lot like it.

The crust was ok. But then, how could it not be?
The crème légère tasted delicious. Just as it does every morning.
But the raspberries! It might seem easy to arrange them into an neat pile, almost effortless; but trust me, it is not. Luckily, I think I got it right on my second try.

Now, I should really show you the tartes framboises individuelles (one serving tarts), which look so damn cute it hurts. Soon. Soon.

The tarte tutti frutti

Here again, things are a little more complicated than they might come out. This tart should look good from every angle. Three hundred and sixty degrees of them.

And, in order to achieve this, I strongly think there is only one thing you can do. Proceed with a method. First the strawberries, then the apricots, then the kiwis and the pineapple. And finally, the raspberries. Easy peasy, right?

This is it for now. The palmier [palm tree] that sits in front of my bedroom is calling my name. As for the rest of the week, well… working, sunbathing and a baguette bake-off with my sweetest friend Amanda!

Do you remember that time when cream pies were being thrown at foodbeam? Well, this would be so very appropriate. Again.

The thing is that, aside from the long overdue bûches de Noël manifesto and the launch of la moustache, I’ve made a promise to Tony. A promise about something very exciting.

A taste of Mediterranean. Seven months, seven countries, seven co-hosts, seven prizes. January is all about France. And being the damn-busy-blogger-which-never-actually-posts French girl that I am, Tony asked me to join the team.
We both agreed that tarts would be a pretty sweet theme. Traditional yet versatile. And the very essence of French pâtisserie.

So no cream pies for today; hopefully you’ll like the tarte bourdaloue just as much.

As with many of the pastries I make at home, this tart has its own story. You see, I had to make it. To get ready for my first exam as a pâtisserie apprentie. Yes, you read right. A pastry exam. How terrific does that sound to you?
I must admit, I felt that way too.

A French classic. Crisp and sweet pâte sucrée, rich crème d’amandes, and delicate poached pears. I’m not certain about it, but from memory, I’d say it was named after the street on which it was first created. La rue Bourdaloue.
And, take my words for granted, this tart alone make me wish I had made a little détour by that street.

The recipe, which was handed me down by the school, is too easy to follow to be true. A dream. The pâte sucrée – made of flour, butter, sugar and eggs – gives a sweet shortbread-like dough. Effortless yet one of the best pâtes sucrées I’ve ever made. It’s a treat to work with, making the whole rolling and draping process a matter of seconds. And promise, it won’t shrink in the oven!
The crème d’amandes is a creamy (pleonasm alert!) tart filling made of butter and ground almonds, with a hint of vanilla, and a little flour to bind it all.
The poached pears bring some nice texture, and since they’re not poached in syrup but in water (with many split vanilla beans) they tend to cut the sweetness.

Hopefully, this will have gotten you inspired and you’ll come up with a pretty pretty version of what you perceive as the ultimate French tart. But mostly, have fun and create. And you might end up winning a fifty-dollar gift certificate.

As a side-note, I shall tell you the exam went really well. And yes, I’ll share the actual recipe for this tart soon, but well I’m in London right now with no access to my favourite recipe binder.

Coming up next (for good), she who felt like she lived in a forest made of golden plastic trees where the snow would be chocolate mousse.

I realise I said the next pâtisserie Lac update would be about how I almost took part to a pastry challenge. To make one long story short, I had made an interesting entremet – hazelnut dacquoise, cream cheese mousse, pumpkin crème brulée, and roast-slash-confit pumpkin – in the aim to submit it to a panel of experienced pâtissiers. But, after a couple of month without hearing from the school, I was called and told I’d start the classes on the exact same week the challenge was hold; read, with less than twenty-four hours of notice.
Not the right time, but definitely the right entremet. That’s why I so intended to share it with you. Sadly, it got eaten quickly and I haven’t found the time to re-make it yet. Soon (as usual).

Short story turned rather longish, and as you might guess, things are pretty busy at the pâtisserie at this time of the year. With more than a thousand of bûches to make, trust me when I say I feel slightly tired; although damn happy would qualify as well.

This Christmas is nothing like I’ve ever had. And totally feels like a new experience, which – needless to say – gets me pretty excited. Imagine how electrifying it is to see Christmas under a new light. Like the new kid on the block. Well, yes, that’s right; I’m that new kid and really enjoy it.

Plus, I’ve finally revealed my true identity – aka, crazily random person who talks way too much (this, they already know about), and takes pictures of the food she makes and writes about it on the internet (the – no-longer – secret) – so I got to photograph every single of the bûches (eight of them, write-up coming as soon as I’ll have found my mental sanity) and a couple of other things. Including those pretty chocolate sapins [Christmas trees] the chocolatiers made.

I also have pictures of the chocolatiers themselves, but you don’t want to see that since they can’t help making funny faces in front of a camera (at least I now have a way to blackmail them if necessary!).

Hopefully, you won’t mind about how random this post is. I’ve barely slept for the past couple of days (hence the don’t-make-sense factor), but I so wanted to give you a glimpse of what actually happens at the pâtisserie these days. And, perhaps most importantly, I wanted to show you how gorgeous nuts, dried fruits and chocolate are when they combine their forces. Delicious too, but I think it’s barely necessary to mention this.

Anyway, I might take a nap now and come back later with a bûches de Noël manifesto.

Coming up next, she who felt like she lived in a forest made of golden plastic trees where the snow would be chocolate mousse (this was clearly written under the influence – of sleep-lack, bûches-making and evident randomness, the title might change or not).

So far my apprentissage at Pâtisserie Lac has been the most life-altering experience I’ve ever had. This time, I’m not doing this just for school. I’m actually working days after days to become a pâtissier. Something I’ve been dreaming about for years – literally – but am now living.

And as you would expect, living a dream is… well, dreamy.

Pascal, which I now call patron, is one of the most passionate and talented pâtissier I was ever given the chance to work with. He imagines outstanding flavor and texture combinations, and uses the best ingredients available. And despite his overloaded schedule, he does put an apron on every morning to get all the entremets, tarts and petits-fours ready for the daily shop-refill: the livraison.
Passionate, talented and caring.
And it shows: the pâtisserie Lac probably is the best pâtisserie around the Côte.

They say you can’t judge a book from its cover; I say, on the other hand, you can judge a pâtisserie from its laboratoire – the hidden part of the iceberg: the place where all the luscious pastries are made.

Here, things couldn’t be any closer to perfect. In order to have plenty of room, Pascal decided to move the laboratoire from the usual shop-backside to the north-east suburbs of Nice. Sure, this means I get to host a daily forty-minute off-key singing driving party in my car – consider yourself lucky not to be invited! But it also means I get to work on my very own marbre. Picture two metres of stainless steel, just for me.

But trust me, I make a full use of those two metres. Especially from 5.50 to 7, at which point the refrigerated car hops to town to deliver the pastries.

Because you see, during this period of time, my role – and mission – is to produce the fraisiers (something you should be acquainted with if you’ve read my previous post). Le fraisier is a gâteau composed of two layers of syrup-drenched génoise, encasing a fluffly vanilla crème mousseline, and plenty of fresh and juicy strawberries.

Believe me, making eight fraisiers does take time. More time than I’m actually given. And there is a joke amongst the boys – who are so very adorable, by the way – and the Chef – whom, despite his actual name Stéphane, we all call Chef! – saying that we’ll never finish our shift on time (read, before one pm) if I make the fraisiers.

Quite luckily I got faster and better. My génoises now turn out perfect every time I get them out from the oven. My crème mousseline is glossy and feathery. And I love the draw the arabesques with my chocolate cornet on top of the pâte d’amandes disks.

Coming up next, she who almost enrolled in a pâtisserie rally.

A couple of weeks ago, I made it back home with the secret aim to find a place to be an apprentice at next year.
I got to spend a day in a dreamy laboratoire, being shown around by the young chef, decorating tarts and making beautiful loaf cakes; all with a view on the gorgeous black-walled chocolaterie room.

The next day I headed towards La Trinité, a small town, north of Nice, where the renown pâtisserie Lac has its laboratoire. The place is huge, probably ten times bigger – I mean, walk-in freezers! – that Pierre Hermé’s.
Pascal Lac, the chef, decided to make the move from the busy city back-shop laboratoire to this large open one for reasons that are quite understandable.

After the short interview, I asked my dad – who held the position of pastry-chef-in-the-being (=me) driver for the week end – to drive me to the city centre, so I could have a look and taste of Lac’s pastries.

Just as the pâtisserie from the day before, pâtisserie Lac had that gorgeous sleek look. Very chic. But as I entered, I had that overwhelming feeling that conducted me to choose Lac over any other pâtisseries I had applied to. Don’t laugh, but I totally felt connected with the various entremets, cakes and macarons. Those had my touch in them.

So well, here it comes. I HAVE AN INTERNSHIP FOR NEXT YEAR!
And I’m damn happy.

While we’re talking about internships, it fills me with joy when you guys let me know that you’re planning on become a pastry chef – and thus interning at a French pâtisserie.

However, I must admit that I’m getting bored of those many ‘how did you secure an internship at Pierre Hermé’ emails, as if I was the sesame to Pierre Hermé’s very own private paradise pâtisserie. I am not.

But because I do my best at being a lovely person, here is the answer.
I am passionate about pâtisserie, and I guess that if you do mean it when you tell me about how much you love pastry, then you might actually be passionate too. And this is just terrific. Passion is the key; the so-wanted sesame.
Thanks to my passion, I strive to make my dreams come true. It might take days or years, I don’t mind. All I want is to be satisfied about myself; and so should you.

What about this whole how-to-get-an-internship thingy then? Well, people, just get on it; be proactive; make your best to get what you want. If that means emailing Fanny about her Pierre Hermé internship, then do it. But do you really think that’ll fulfil you? Don’t you want to struggle for it? Or more accurately, are you even ready to struggle for it?

What you want will never come onto a silver plate, which is especially true in the fine food industry.

You want something. Then make it happen.

I understand that some of you might need a little more guidance – I mean, even I, living in France and speaking fluent French, find it difficult sometimes; or actually, all the time. I struggle; making phone calls back and forth; emailing restlessly.
You want an internship in France; then follow this quick step-by-step.

1. Learn the basic principles of French grammar and orthography. You needn’t be an advanced French speaker and writer, but definitely have to be able to understand when people talk to you, formulate a coherent answer, and express your feelings and motivations in a cover letter.

2. Put together a resume in French. By all means, if you don’t have the knowledge to make it look pretty, just keep it simple.
In France, resumes must contain:
- a picture of you
- the basic info about you<
- your telephone number and email address
Plus, all of the usual stuff: education and work experience.
Never worked at a pâtisserie before? I hadn’t. But I managed to highlight how I included my passion into the different projects I conducted.

3. List the places where you want to apply. Use google maps, or les pages jaunes; for contact info. Do make an actual – written on paper – list! Write down the name of the pâtisserie, name of the pâtissier, phone number and email.

4. Write a two-hundred-word cover letter- if you’re not fluent, make it clear at the beginning, but say you’re definite about improving your French; in this case, keep it short and simple.
Basically, just try to convey your passion and enthusiasm through your words. Briefly expose a project you worked on and during which you managed to place pastry into the limelight.

5. Take a morning off (not Mondays, since most of the shops are closed), and call each of the listed place. Make the effort to speak French. Don’t try and speak too fast if you’re not confident; I much rather someone that talks slowly than someone I can barely understand.
Ask for the chef pâtissier. And don’t hesitate to make people repeat if you don’t get something.

When you’ve finally been put through the chef, make it brief. Say you want to apply for a stage [stah-ge]. Ask whether they accept stagiaires [stah-gi-air] or not. If they do, give your availabilities; then politely ask for an email where you could reach him for further communication.

Be warned, they will most likely ask for a stage conventionné, for which you need a convention – a sort of insurance contract – issued by your school or university. So if you’re not currently a student, I suggest you get some info elsewhere.

6. Cross the pâtisserie name off the list. And immediately send an email.
Thank them for the earlier conversation. Repeat what you called them for: stage, availabilities. Attach both your resume and cover letter, but still mention them in the email body.

7. Wait for seven days, then either call or email, asking about the processing of your application.
Don’t hesitate to call again and say you’re very motivated. Tell them you’re highly interested in meeting them for an interview. Actually make it to the interview, even for just one day.

Congrats. You are [insert your country's name] next pastry chef.

This past Monday. Yesterday, in fact. I made a choice. One of the most critical choices I’ve ever been confronted to. The kind of choices that leaves you in an uncanny state of uncertainty; but definitely one that makes you happy, one that you can’t help but think about – days and nights and every second in between -, one that comes with a CAP (Certificat d’Aptitude Professionelle) pâtissier, chocolatier et glacier.

Yes, my dearest friends, you read it well. From next September, I’ll officially start studying pâtisserie and might even pass the final exam (cross your fingers and you friends’ as well, for me).

Little happy dance and song. Champagne, ahem, not quite yet. I need to find a place (either a pâtisserie or restaurant) to be an apprentie at. And trust me, this doesn’t seem to be easy a task.
Since I’m wanting to stay on the Côte, I’m scouting places like renowned hotels and restaurants, and great pâtisseries. So if you happen to know anyone around, let me know and I’ll make sure to send you a box of macarons!

And this is the appropriate moment to thank you who support me, give me fantastic-est advices and help me to find my way. You know who you are and I’m immensely grateful to count you as friends.

Bring. It. On.

The tart. What can I say? An insanely delicious passion fruit ganache encased in a crisp pâte sucrée shell and topped with syrupy pineapple dices.

One of the best desserts I’ve ever made. The flavours interact. The textures oppose. My mouth loves it. Yours will too.

Tarte chocolat au lait et fruit de la passion, ananas rôti
Inspired by Pierre Hermé.

A quick look at the long list of ingredients and steps might – but shouldn’t – lead you to think that this is a long and complicated recipe. It isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, it is quite time-consuming, but if you plan things well ahead, then all is a left is the final and rewarding assembly job.

This tart is inspired by Pierre Hermé’s collection Mogador. Inspired. I’m eternally grateful for his pâte sucrée and for the impossibly luscious roast pineapple – I could and do eat this with my fingers as soon as the syrup isn’t hot enough to burn me to the bone.
The ganache is slightly different. Pierre relies on passion fruit, while I use both passion fruit and cream. Better stability, no splitting. Pretty decent, really.

As you might notice from the picture, my ganache is on the soft side. I like it better that way since I love that melt in your mouth feeling.
It will, however, get firmer if you leave it in the fridge for too long.