If at times, nature compels us to slow down, I must admit I was slightly surprised when I saw the first lemons on my parents’ tree.

Lemons in september feels like eating strawberries around Christmas time for me.

But well, the little guys were hanging out in the tree and my sister’s favourite dessert in the whole entire huge universe is lemon meringue tart.

So I took this as an opportunity to remind you how lovely Pierre Hermé’s recipe is. This time around I just changed the crust for my new go-to recipe which seems to be easier to work with – which in my world means no shrinkage during baking (the one thing I dread the most in pastry).

Basically, you can make the dough and lemon crémeux a day – or three – in advance, and when you’re ready for THE tart, simply bake blind the shell and fill it with the smooth and tangy cream.

Whip up a nice and soft meringue italienne, pile it on the tart and burn with a châlumeau [blow-torch] or failing that the grill of your oven (something I’ve realised I’m not good with, burnt tart anyone?).

And trust me when I tell you I’m doing you a favour by writing down the ingredient list so you can just print it, go shopping and come back at home only to make the most delicious lemon tart you could ever dream of.

When it comes to the dough, the process is exactly the same as the one I described over there. Except thet ingredient list is different: less butter, more almonds and a tad more icing sugar make for the most perfect dough ever. Easy to work with, it will have a very deep aroma when baked. Just make sure you don’t get it out from the oven before it has the nicest shade of golden-brown.

As with most doughs, this recipe will yield to more than what you actually need for one tart. But I suggest you divide it into 3 to 4 pieces and wrap them in clingfilm. Then you can freeze them for as long as a month or two, and go back to your freezer every time you will need some.

Quite evidently, we also made cake. This cake to be precise. Because it is the best lemon cake. Because it’s soft and fragrant. Because it will keep for days. And mostly, because we need no excuse to make – and more generally, eat – cake.

This time, I used T110, which is a fine semi-whole wheat flour. I’m not sure it’s widely available outside of France, but I suggest you try making a tant-pour-tant using plain and whole-wheat flours.
What I love about this flour is the lovely aromas – deep and hearthy – that balances the tanginess of the cake and the sweetness of the soaking syrup.

As a matter of fact, I first intended to top the cake with a thick citrus and earl grey glaze, but ran out of icing sugar so syrup it became.
Whether you want to go for a glaze or a syrup, you simply need to heat the lemon juice to 70°C, infuse it with the tea for two or three minutes, then pour onto the icing sugar slowly.

I drenched the cake with it as soon as I got it out of its tin and it created the most perfect layer of fresh lemon flavour.

And since this post is too long already, maybe I should add a couple of things.

ONE. I would love to hear your suggestions for upcoming articles.
What would you like to see on foodbeam? Is there a specific French technique you would love to learn?

TWO. I’m thinking of putting a F.A.Q. post together. I find them so fun to do. So anything you’d like to ask!

THREE. I hope you don’t mind my current REmakes of old recipes. To be honest, I really enjoy writing them (and photographing them with my pentax ME). To me, it’s all about: 1) highlighting some of the very best pastries around and 2) showing you new techniques/ingredients.

OK, I’m done now. So do ask your questions in the comments below and tell me what you want to see here! x

I am home – or more accurately I have been home for a week or so – forced to stay here.

Sometimes, nature compels us to slow down, perhaps for the right reasons.

Spending time here – just doing simple things – especially after the impulsive decision to fly back to France after a night – filled with tears and screams – that I can barely remember, make my stay in London feel as brief as a dream.

Something so ephemeral that I can hardly think it was real. Particularly after the nightmare I’ve just had. A nightmare that isn’t one. A nightmare I have to face. In fact, not a nightmare at all, just a fact.

I keep wondering about how I am going to breathe the same air as before except it will taste different now that I am on my own.

Luckily, I have time to think. And time to let my passion guide me.

During this break, I have made the most delicious vanilla mousse, which I topped with slowly poached rhubarb and slices of the pinkest rhubarb compote.

It was delicious, light, and just tangy enough.

With the same elements, I also assembled an entremet that I will share later this week if I ever find my way back to London. Something I want so hard and yet fear.

But as nature told us, there is no need to rush. So why not spend a day or two in company of the coolest kid in town – Peanut, the bunny – or maybe, enjoy some drinks at a café or on a beach with friends – old and new.

See you later my lovelies. You make my world a little bit better and I just want to give each and everyone one of you a big hug. x

I’m – almost, if you don’t count the past two weeks that seemed to be lived on a post-holiday cloud – just back from Corsica.

The few days I spent there definitely set my mood for summer with a light sundrenched breeze.
Picture many thrilling aventures involving: a guy, a girl, delicious charcuterie and tasty fromage, exciting wine that tastes like spicy candied chestnuts, lots of sandcastles, and ice-cold showers.

And did I mention mosquito bites? Plenty of them? No, right. End of the story.

But since summer has now officially come, I have no reason to keep daydreaming. I could just quit that little cloud, and realise how happy I actually am down there.

I guess the diving did it all!

This week off my daily patisserie routine also made me understand how important making pastries is to me.

Priceless.; although I must admit that building sandcastles remains a close runner-up on my top-ten-things-to-do list.

Isn’t all this pink-and-green pretty pretty? Icecream-licious is the word, or maybe it’s all about fromage blanc mousse, berries compotée and almond dacquois.

Rêve d’été
This is a classic. Perfect for a hot sunday dessert or as a nice way to enjoy your favourite iced tea at four o’clock (THE French un-missable goûter).

For the decor, I decided to colour some nappage (a mixture of syrup and pectin, with resemble a light jelly) and spread it onto the frozen entremet using a spatula. I guess I’ll have to make a little 101 about how to creature such a marbling.

Since I started my apprentissage at Nice best pâtisserie (and no, I’m not saying this just because it’s the place I’m spending the best year of my entire life at), I’ve been talking a lot about Pascal and the chef and the cool people I get to work with.

Quite coincidentally, one of them seems to be my Brazilian counterpart. Amanda. She’s perhaps just as silly as me, and certainly, just as crazy in love with life and pâtisserie.

And just like me she’s a food tasting and photography fanatic. A perfect match.

A couple of weeks ago we decided to venture off from our Nice headquarters, and headed to Cannes. More specifically, to Jean-Luc Pelé’s Atelier.

Located on the tiny rue Meynadier, a parallel of the famous Croisette and its not so pretty marches [steps], it makes an adorable chic-black boutique. And although I must admit I chose not to work there after I met Pascal and the huuuuuge laboratoire, I have to confess that the Atelier it is indeed adorable, and probably more importantly, a good pâtisserie.

You know me. I took tons of pictures, tasted a couple triple of entremets, and a good dozen of macarons. So I figured it would be more appropriate to write about the place in episodes.

Tambours. [Drumrolls].

Let me introduce l’Atelier. And the pâtisseries that you can find there. Simple. No tasting involved here (don’t worry, the entremets will follow; and so will the macarons (delicious by the way)).

As you enter the black-walled shop, you’ll probably like the panoramic view of the chocolaterie just as much as I did. But keep an eye on the pâtisseries because they’re pretty pretty, and definitely worth more than just an over-look.

Sure I did not taste them all, but it occurred to me you might like a little food sexiness around here.

La verrine exotique
Did I ever mentioned how addicted I am to food served in glasses? And when it’s pink, and has berries in it, and litchi. Verrine exotique, I’m all yours.

Les éclairs au chocolat
The éclairs – pâte à choux [choux pastry] filled with a bittersweet chocolate crème pâtissière [pastry cream] – clearly weren’t as lovely with their hazardous icing.

Le sablé breton aux framboises
This is something I quite liked. First, the square sablé got me. Then, the neatly arranged raspberries.

La mousse au chocolat
Rather straightforward. In every way.

Le macara
I’m not so addicted to the glaçage marbré. Or the chocolate and raspberry combination. Overdone.

Le millefeuilles
Another of my crushes. No old-fashionned icing. Sweet crème pâtissière that looks like a pearl necklace. Need I say more?

La verrine fleur de sel
A beautiful verrine in in my opinion. Layers of milk chocolate, caramel, and saltiness can do you no harm, trust me. Although, I must recognise I still do not get the chocolate tribal figurine. Any hints?

La tarte aux fruits rouges
Again. Berries. Square tart. A match made in heaven. This is definitely something I’ll think about for my own pâtisserie. My doodled-over Moleskine proves it.

La crème brûlée au chocolat
And something cute to end up with. A chocolate crème brûlée. And it’s over-the-top bitten miniature chocolate bar.

See you soon for the tasting! On the menu: verrine exotique, tarte aux fruits rouges and verrine fleur de sel.

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!

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.