Thanksgiving turkey: 0, Me: 1

As many of you that know me know, I am not by any stretch of the imagination an expert in the kitchen. Yes, I may have perfected the art of spaghetti with butter or cheese and crackers over the years, but I've grudgingly come to realize those meals just aren't enough. I've discovered that if I just relax and open my mind a little bit, Paris brings (drags kicking and screaming, more like) a lot of that adventuresomeness right out in me. It peeked out two years ago, when my friends taught me how to sauté chicken and make risotto. But these last few months have made me into someone most people wouldn't even recognize back home.

 To begin with, the art of shopping for food in Paris is enough to make anyone want to get involved in cooking. You can't walk down the street and not look in the gourmet fromageries (cheese stores), boulangeries (bakery), patisseries (pastry shops), boucheries (butchers), or chocolatiers (speaks for itself). And the markets with their fresh produce is enough to make anyone crack a cookbook. Once I became familiar with the produce market across the street, I knew that the next step would be buying fresh meat from the butcher, instead of getting it frozen or vacuum-packed at the supermarket. When two friends from home came to visit, I figured it was now or never. So we bought some farce aux tomates, which seemed to be the inside of sausage or something (that was Jeff, I wasn't feeling that adventurous), and some prosciutto. We made omelets for breakfast, which turned out to be delicious! I was finally starting to feel like a relatively grown up Parisian person. Little by little I've built up my confidence, and made shopping at the markets on the next block a regular outing. I have actually looked up the different uses of thyme, parsley, and oregano; I can now tell the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber without cutting them up. My roommate and I even worked up enough courage to have some French friends over for a little dinner party. We roasted potatoes, zucchini, and Brussels sprouts, and made pan-seared salmon with a Hollandaise sauce. Yep, you read that right. HOLLANDAISE SAUCE.

Now that I had tackled fish, risotto, roasted vegetables, the local boucherie, and some simple sauces, the next task was a monster one: Thanksgiving. My roommate and I and a few of other american teaching assistants from our program wanted to celebrate the holiday together, and because the rest of them had small apartments or studios, we offered our apartment up. I, feeling brave in my utter ignorance, decided to cook the turkey. I had heard they were difficult to find in Paris, expensive, and of lesser quality than most American turkeys, but I decided it would be worth it. I stopped at a few places that seemed promising, until I discovered that it was 18 euros per kilo, and not 18 euros per turkey (a 5 kilo turkey is about 11 lbs). I finally decided order a 5 kilo turkey for 40 euros at the butcher's near my apartment. So on saturday morning, I waited in line at the butcher's and then lugged my 11 lb turkey home to begin the preparations. I had consulted multiple google sources, and my roommate and I had compared notes from our grandmas (which turned out to be eerily similar). Although I was thoroughly grossed out after lathering butter all over this turkey, inside and out, the actual preparation wasn't really stressful or complicated.

Three hours later, juices running clear and skin crispy on top, we sat down to actually eat. Our friends had brought all sorts of dishes: homemade mac'n'cheese, stuffing, mashed potatoes, pumpkin risotto, brussels sprouts, green beans and almonds, and cranberry sauce (which is surprisingly difficult to find in Paris). I finally cut into the turkey breast, with more than a little trepidation, and was pleasantly surprised to find it white and juicy, just like it was supposed to be! We were all thoroughly impressed with ourselves, and commenced a meal that really felt like thanksgiving, and almost felt like grandma's house. We had a lot to be thankful for!  Especially the three plates full of turkey leftovers... and my newfound confidence in the kitchen. Maybe it was beginner's luck, maybe I just needed to actually have some motivation to try it, but there is no denying that cooking something and it coming out how it was supposed to, not necessarily even fantastic or perfect, but just right, is a pretty empowering thing for me. And it is a great way to come together with friends! I just can't wait to come up with the next big adventure.