The day after the competition, Charlie sat bolt upright, woken by a loud knock at the door of the flat. He was soon aware of his name being repeatedly shouted in an excited tone.
Charlie gathered his thoughts, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then thought this behaviour very much out of character for Chef Luc, having finally recognised the voice. Was there a fire downstairs perhaps? He leapt out of bed, then quickly opened the front door of the flat. Standing before him was a very excitable looking Chef Luc.
All that Charlie heard next were the words, “You won, my boy, you won!” before being embraced by a bone crunching bear hug.
Unable to splutter a response, Charlie wriggled free and asked Chef to calmly explain. Some moments later, once Chef Luc had regained his composure, he began to explain to Charlie that he had received a telephone call from officials later the previous evening. The organiser had explained to Chef Luc that in Charlie's particular category there had been two clear winning dishes. But they could only choose one as that was the rule. They had deliberated and voted for several hours before they unanimously agreed on the winning entry.
After a short pause, Chef Luc with loud enthusiasm said, “Charlie, it was your dish that was the winner.” Then followed a moment of silence as Charlie stood mouth open in a mild stake of shock.
Chef Luc then suggested that Charlie take the morning off, maybe have a walk around Villejaques, which was something he had not really had a chance to do since his arrival, but that he should return by midday.
Charlie enquired as to why midda, as it all began to sink in. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride within himself, mixed with excitement and disbelief. Wow, he thought, as he stood in complete bewilderment before Chef Luc.
Chef Luc explained that Charlie would need to be back by then as they had a surprise waiting for him. Then he would drive his young apprentice to the train station as he would spend the following week in Paris.
Surprised by what he had heard, but still in a sense of shock, he managed to splutter out the words, “Why Chef, now what? Why Paris?” Chef Luc calmly explained that the winner of Charlie’s category would be invited to spend one week private tuition with Fleurette Celeste, who was hailed as the finest patissier in the world, at her famous establishment in Paris. This left Charlie speechless by such an incredible prize.
Chef Luc's final words o,f “See you at midday, Charlie,” still echoed in his head as with great enthusiasm Chef Luc disappeared down the wooden staircase. This had left Charlie in a daze for a moment or two. Paris he thought. Fleurette Celeste, he thought.
Now alone once again in the flat, he decided the best course of action was his usual morning coffee ritual, which would help to settle the shock and excitement that had now begun to settle in. He enjoyed every tantalizing sip, which helped him to put it all together in his mind and gather his thoughts. Charlie decided to make the most of that morning. Pack now or pack later, he could not decide, but chose the former option out of ease. But first he washed, then dressed, and once that was out of the way, he swiftly packed his backpack. He decided he would only need some basic essentials, so in no time at all he had finished.
Once packed, he decided to heed Chef Luc’s advice and go for a walk and stretch his legs. So with that, Charlie grabbed his journal and headed off to sit down by the river, via a walk through the town. He headed out of the flat door, down the wooden stairs, and through the open rear door; it wasn't long before Charlie was strolling through the narrow paved streets of Villejacques stopping every so often to take in the atmosphere of that beautiful little town. Since his arrival, Charlie had spent most of his time either in the small rear kitchen learning his craft or in the flat with his nose buried in an assortment of patisserie books experimenting or in a deep sleep. So he intended to make the most of the time while he could.
He allowed the delicious smells that seemed to waft out from open doorways of the quaint food shops determine his direction. Making sure he entered, then sampled as much as he could and tasted as many flavours as possible all the while looking at textures and contrast to add to his mind map. Charlie now felt very full and content having just left one of the smaller artisan chocolatier shops in the town. He had sampled some of the finest chocolates yet in all their different forms.
Then, while still drifting in chocolate heaven, he bumped into Claire who had been rushing down the street.
“Good morning, Claire,” said Charlie rather happily, expecting a more jovial reply than the one he did receive.
“Morning, what’s good about this morning?” came the harsh reply, the once soft flowing accent now became more harsh and rushed.
“What's happened?” Charlie enquired as Claire went on to explain how she had been robbed at the competition and should have won.
“I’d spent months practicing and the trip to Paris should have been mine. Chef Fleurette is my idle,” explained a very upset and somewhat grumpy Claire. Her jet black hair hid a tear that had formed in the corner of her eye from the disappointment that welled within her.
Once she had finished her moaning, Charlie decided it best to make his excuses and leave before she questioned him about being at the competition.
“Sorry Claire, but I have to go. I have an errand for Chef. Was nice to see you, but farewell!” With that Charlie was quickly off down the street, which left an even more disgruntled Claire standing by herself.
“That was close,” Charlie thought as he continued his walk still feeling a little unsettled by the reaction of Claire. Then he remembered what it was he had planned to do that morning as he continued towards the river not stopping to visit anymore food shops along the way. “That was probably enough sampling for today,” Charlie thought and it wasn’t long before the river bank was there before him.
He found an empty bench and took a seat and gazed across the river in each direction. The river looked a little murky that day and rushed past with an occasional gentle splosh as the water lightly touched the jagged rocks. It was a fairly quiet spot he had found; only the tranquil sound from the water, blended with beautiful birdsong helped to mask the background noise of the town. He could just enjoy the peace and quiet for a while. He opened his journal, grabbed the pencil neatly tucked within the binder, and began to continue with his entries, paying special attention to the day of the competition and all that had happened transpired since. Caught up in the beauty of this place, mixed with writing, it suddenly dawned on him he had places to be. He looked at his watch then realized an hour or so had passed, and it was now close to midday. He jumped up and swiftly started to make his way back to the shop. He ran back as quickly as he could, bursting through the rear entrance out of breathe and almost colliding with Chef.
“Steady on Charlie!” said Chef Luc, as he neatly side stepped to avoid a disaster.
Once Charlie had regained his breath, Chef called all the staff into the office. With everyone now gathered, Chef Luc presented Charlie with his very own patissiers tool box. A rather large grin appeared on his face, as Charlie graciously accepted this wondrous gift from his mentor. The box itself was very unassuming to look at, but once opened it would reveal an assortment of utensils that you would only expect to find in the toolbox of a world class pastry chef. Charlie could not believe his eyes at being the recipient of such a generous gift. After the box was handed over to a delighted Charlie, Chef Luc then went on to make a short speech. Something that he was not really known for, but wanted to, as he had begun to think of Charlie as family during the time that he had been there. A short round of applause then followed before staff promptly returned to there duties.
Charlie then disappeared back upstairs to the old yet comfy flat to grab his trusted backpack. One arm through the strap, he swung it over his shoulder and again rushed down the stairs arriving in the kitchen. Once there, a staff member let Charlie know that Chef Luc was bringing the van around. With haste, he hurried outside just as Chef Luc's van pulled up.
Ready for the next adventure, he climbed in, and the door had barely closed, before Chef Luc sped off. Time was running out fast as Charlie was to be at the station to meet the 12:40 pm to Paris train. Holding tightly to the door handle stopped Charlie from slipping in the seat as Chef screeched around several sharp corners. They arrived at the towns small train station with only minutes to spare. Chef winked at Charlie before handing over the train ticket, which had been picked up earlier that morning.
“Enjoy, my boy. I’m proud of you,” Chef Luc warmly said.
Charlie replied by kindly thanking him for the gift and of course the speedy lift. Jumping out of the van, he rushed towards the platform to which Charlie could see the train had just pulled in. With barely anytime to spare, he raced to catch the train, ticket in hand, waved in the air, and just managed to jump on board as the conductor held the door for Charlie. He promptly found a seat, placed his backpack and toolbox in the rack overhead, then made himself comfortable before he breathed a sigh of relief.
Several hours had passed before Charlie felt the train slow in preparation to arrive into Paris. The train rattled as the brakes were engaged. Charlie sat upright, a little disappointed at having dozed off, so he had missed much of the train ride. “But the next part of the adventure awaits, and that is far more important than French countryside right now,” he thought to himself. The train soon ground to a complete stop as it had now terminated at its final destination. Charlie disembarked and made his way to the concourse where he had been told that someone would be there to meet him.
And sure enough, amongst the throng of arriving and departing passengers, he could see a small sign, lifted high over the heads of the crowds, that bore his name. Charlie walked up to the person then introduced himself to the friendly face that had been sent to meet him. Before him now stood a tall slender young man with dark perfectly arranged hair that complemented his bronzed coloured face.
“Hello,” said Charlie, “I believe that you are here to meet me?”.
“Bonjour, Charlie. My name is Théo,” replied the young man.
Théo explained that he had been sent to collect him from the station and take him to meet Fleurette. Theo gestured to Charlie to follow him, then gleefully informed the weary traveller that he would be provided with a room at the staff annex while he was there. Charlie felt immediately relaxed in Theo's company, being similar in age, together with Theo’s friendly manner. In the few minutes that it took them to get back to the car, the staff annex rules had been explained and Theo explained the roster system that allowed the Desert Cafe to be open from breakfast until late.
They soon arrived at a rather battered looking car. “Well then hop in. I know it’s not much, but it is mine” Theo stated with a slight cheeky smirk.
Charlie didn't think that the car matched the appearance of Theo. But there must be a reason, he thought, although the car was immaculate inside. Theo climbed into the driver’s side, then reached over fiddling with the lock until it released to open the passenger door. Door now unlocked and open, Charlie quickly climbed in then placed his backpack and toolbox onto the backseat. With a quick grin from Theo, the engine was started, and they were off. Charlie was amazed by how busy the roads were, discretely gripping the seat as Théo zipped through the traffic. He whizzed down a collection of little side streets until eventually he turned into a small car park at the rear of some old Parisienne buildings.
Having exited the car as quickly as they had entered, Théo was quick to show Charlie just where he would be going to sleep during his stay. It was a small room with very little in it apart from a bed, table, cupboard, and washbasin and that was pretty much it. Charlie was informed that the bathroom was at the end of the corridor. Théo then happily informed Charlie to change into his whites while he waited downstairs; he would then take him through to meet Fleurette.
He felt decidedly nervous, yet extremely excited all at the same time as he quickly changed before he made his way downstairs to a waiting Théo.
“Follow me,” Théo cheerfully announced as they made their way across the little car park towards the rear entrance of the stone building, through an open door, around several corridors that resembled a simple maze, until finally they arrived at the office of Fleurette.
Théo stopped outside, and knocked on the door. Almost instantly came a quiet response of, “Entree.” He gently pushed the partially opened door and walked into the office. Charlie was then introduced to Fleurette Celeste, who shook him by the hand and directed him to take a seat. Charlie quietly settled himself in one of the high back grey chairs.
She thanked Théo for collecting Charlie from the station as it had been his day off, to which he replied, “Not a problem, Chef,” then grinned at Charlie and promptly left the office, closing the door behind as he went.
From what Charlie had heard about Fleurette, he expected to see someone who looked rather intimidating. Yet, before him sat a middle aged lady, her blonde hair tied back in a short pony tail. She looked of average height and build, yet a glimpse of someone formidable could be seen within her piercing blue eyes.
She leant forward and shook Charlie’s hand, which made him feel very welcome.
“Well Charlie, firstly let me congratulate you on winning the competition. I hear you caused quite a stir with the judges by entering what would normally be considered such a simple dessert to make. However, you won, for which you should be commended on,” said Fleurette.
She explained to Charlie a little of her background within the industry, her own journey, and what drove her to open her business. She explained how she had met with a tremendous amount of resistance to the opening of such a venture as this. Many of her peers had called her crazy to think that such a venture would work, and so it was seen to be a very foolish venture indeed.
She was very open and frank with Charlie as she explained how at first the cafe was very small and could only seat a small number of diners at a time. But even then there were days when they were less than half full. There were times when she did not know how she would pay bills at the end of the week, let alone pay her staff. “But my small brigade were loyal each having a similar passion for patisserie that equalled my own ambition,” she told Charlie. Continuing she said, “They could see my vision, were inspired by my creativity, ambition, and drive and so were fully supportive in the early days.”
Fleurette then explained how, eventually, her passionate determination and drive paid off. She was helped by a chance encounter with a food writer who had only ventured in by accident to get shelter from a particularly severe rainstorm. He was somewhat confused to be seated at a table, then presented with a dessert only menu. Many minutes had past, several members of the staff had attempted to take an order, and all he could do was to stare at the menu in a state of confused bewilderment.
Fleurette continued her story by saying, “As it had been another unsurprisingly quite day, I had been at the front of house conversing with an elderly couple who had become regular customers. I had been made aware of the customers' confusion, excused myself from that conversation, then made my way over to speak with the gentleman. I introduced myself as the Chef Patron, then proceeded to explain to him that my passion was for fine desserts and pastries. I had always wanted to open a business that focused entirely on fine desserts, and then I talked him through the menu, describing each of the twenty-four desserts that were currently being served. Gradually, the customer began to understand my concept, so I decided to explain about my innovative tasting menu, which I saw as a connoisseurs delight.
I explained the format of the tasting menu, that it was a collection of twelve desserts, each small enough to not be filling, but large enough to please the palate, that would offer a variety of flavoursome explosions in the mouth. I told him that the menu always followed a theme, which changed monthly, and always contained a combination of hot and cold, soft and firm, subtle and full-flavoured desserts. The customer was so intrigued by that style of menu offering that he placed his order, and said he would give it a try. The gentleman ate each of the various courses which we presented to him, only acknowledging the member of staff that cleared each plate before being bought the next. He soon finished, then settled his bill and left without any further word.”
“So what happened next?” enquired a curious Charlie.
Fleurette then continued to say, “Several weeks had past and suddenly the cafe was getting busier. People would telephone to make reservations which had been unheard of until that point. We started to turn customers away at the door as every table was filled as soon as the doors opened right through until closing. All of a sudden, we had to consider hiring more staff and possible expansion. We were fortunate in being able to purchase the building next door, and so we closed our doors for several months to renovate before we reopened.
"That proved to be the perfect opportunity for a complete redesign of the menu. Having chosen to expand, I thought it the ideal moment to rethink what we offered and how it was offered, and so myself and all of my loyal team sat down and together we created a whole new menu offering. Having been with me from the start, I wanted them to be a part in the creative process and also to put in ideas of their own. We decided to open earlier, and so a breakfast menu was created. We wanted it to offer a selection of light, fruity desserts or pastries that would not be too heavy for early morning customers. We spent many hours working out how each dish would be married with a beautiful house blended tea or a lightly roasted coffee bean. We wanted something to excite and stimulate the palate, but nothing heavy for the start of the working day.”
Charlie sat there speechless as he took in every word of Fleurette's incredible story. Mesmerised by her passion and obvious drive, he wanted to know more.
She then continued, “Breakfast menu complete, we then set about refining our daytime menu as we wanted to change the whole look and feel. Many weeks were spent on the creation of this menu as we wanted to get the offering just right. We wanted a menu that was not too overwhelming, yet full of variety. We took some old classics and put our own unique style to them. We created new things that would challenge the customer's taste and palate, and after much trial and error we eventually arrived at our finished menu. Our tasting menu also underwent an overhaul and became more refined, but that was somewhat easier to create as the desserts on there were just miniature versions of the main menu. Well, almost anyway. We made the decision that we would change these menus every quarter so that we were always using ingredients currently in season. As soon as one menu was finalised, then the next began its development cycle. The new menus eventually arrived back from the printers with only days before we re-opened.
"The day of the reopening that same gentleman made a return, having previously made a reservation. He then introduced himself as Quentin Watson, a food writer for a national newspaper, and said he had been so entranced by my business venture and passion, he felt compelled to write about the cafe.
"The rest is history,” she said to Charlie.
He was now able to see past that first impression he had of her and had more than just a glimpse of the formidable person she really was. As she had shared her story, he could clearly see what have driven her to for fill her dream. But more importantly, Charlie realised that although she had fulfilled her ambition, she did not stop there. He could see, just by listening to her that she continued to develop and grow in her chosen craft.
“Thank you for sharing your incredible story,” Charlie said, to which Fleurette responded and said, “If you are truly passionate about something, you need to stick with it no matter what. If you have genuine belief, then no matter what others may think, always believe in yourself.”
Charlie enquired as to what he would be doing during his time spent with Fleurette. She replied by saying, in her quiet French tone, that she would teach Charlie how to prepare one new dessert from her menu each day. She would teach him how to make each of the components that would go to make up the completed dish. She explained to Charlie that each dish and its components would be very different, so he would be learning something new every time. They would start this in the morning; he could just observe, absorb, and take notes.
“If I might ask, Charlie, during your stay here, I would be delighted if you would recreate your winning entry for me,” Fleurette asked a blushing Charlie. He was quick to respond, saying that he would be delighted to do that. With a smile on her face, Fleurette then asked Charlie to provide her with a list of all the ingredients that he would require, handing him a notebook and pen.
“When you have finished your list, come and join me in the kitchen, Charlie,” she said, at which point she stood up, putting her interesting and colourful chef’s hat back on.
He had to muffle a chuckle to hide his surprise as this was no ordinary looking chef’s hat but was bright pink with large black checks, although keeping the same traditional shape.
He then sat forward in the seat, and fiddled with the pen. He began to think about the ingredients that he would require. He made a special note of where the main ingredients were sourced from. The list was carefully create, so that nothing was forgotten. Before leaving the office, he placed the notebook back onto her immaculate and well organised looking desk. With a quick scan of the room, Charlie admired the orderliness she seemed to have in place, knowing this is just as he had pictured his office would be one day. He then stood to leave and followed Fleurette’s direction and ventured into the kitchen.
As he entered the kitchen, he was quick to notice it was more military-type coordination than the hustle and bustle that you would usually associate with a busy commercial kitchen. That in itself was an eye-opener for Charlie. It was large, modern looking for its time, and spotlessly clean, even in the middle of a busy service. The kitchen was kept quite cool, due to the nature of food that was being served. The main area was primarily where the desserts and pastries were finished prior to being checked one last time by either Fleurette or her sous chef. As this was an award winning establishment, nothing left the kitchen without being first approved. Just one little mistake, an ingredient left off, or a component in the wrong place, and that could spell disaster, indeed.
Charlie made his way over to where Fleurette stood as she inspected each and every plate meticulously. A delicate turn of her wrist which finished with a flick of her fingers was the signal that plates were ready to be taken by a member of staff to the waiting customer. Even though it was only early evening, the kitchen was busy. Very busy, indeed, Charlie thought. Having been instructed to stand to one side, so as not to get in the way, he was amazed by how the kitchen moved. Orders were received by Fleurette from the waiting staff, which were then read out to the small kitchen brigade, who would then acknowledge the order in unison. Orders were being called on while other orders were called away by the very same waiting staff. This was beautifully coordinated with those staff members whose sole responsibility was to serve the drinks that specifically went with each dessert. This was also part of the experience at Fleurette’s, as each dish was beautifully and carefully paired with some type of drink, which could either be hot or cold, alcoholic or non-alcoholic. Charlie was left in awe by what he had witnessed.
”This was pure genius...,” he thought to himself as the evening progressed.
Every so often, he would be called over to the pass to be shown a finished dish as it was carefully placed on to a waiter’s tray. He would try to make a mental note of everything that he saw, smelled, or heard, eager to fill his mind map as much as he could.
During the very rare lulls, Charlie would try to ask questions, being the ever inquisitive chap he was, but just as an answer was about to be given, a new order would either arrive or be called away. Charlie was amazed at how few staff could send out so many incredible looking desserts with what seemed like little effort. But he was certain it was much harder than it looked.
He also noticed, unlike some other Chef Patron’s, Fleurette would check on each Chef’s progress when time allowed, with words of support, encouragement, and guidance. Maybe it was how she treated her staff, Charlie thought, which made it look so effortless. He felt so honoured to be watching such a thing firsthand and was only now realising why Claire had been so upset about not winning the competition herself. He felt a little guilty about winning since it had been Claire’s dream but grateful for the opportunity himself.
He looked forward to the next week where he would learn more and be part of the whole process. Service was coming to an end as there had been no new orders coming in for a little while now. Remaining orders going out had decreased ever more rapidly as staff could see the end of there shift nearing. Charlie had not realised how late it had gotten with being so caught up at the moment. As the final order was called away and approved by Fleurette at the pass, there was a sense of gratification amongst the staff. Another night of producing taste sensations for delighted customers had come to a close.
As soon as the waiter had left the kitchen with the last order, a round of applause from the happy staff rang through the kitchen, while a smiling Fleurette preformed a small twirl, something that Charlie later found out was a tradition at the end of each day. The more that Charlie was witness to, the more he wanted the life of a patissier, to be a part of such a creative process, something that he now started to feel deeply within himself.
Once the applause had subsided, the staff suddenly sprang into action and cleaned down the kitchen, wrapped unused items up, placed ingredients back into one of the various fridges dotted around the kitchen. It looked like military precision in motion, but it had earlier been explained to Charlie that the kitchen was broken down into areas, or stations, so specific ingredients and components had their specific home. There were stations for hot desserts, chilled and frozen desserts, and pastry desserts.
Then there were the preparation areas, where many various ingredients and components were made, before being transferred into the main finishing kitchen. This reminded him a little of Captain Macrina's well organised crew. Each member of the team worked together; this resembled the intricate inner workings of a mechanical watch. If just one part was out of sync, everything would grind to a halt.
It was not long before the kitchen looked clean, neat, and tidy and the floors glistening having just been mopped, ready for the whole process to start again the next day. The one thing that remained on the bench was a jar almost full to the brim of lose coins, by its side a small notepad, envelopes, and pencil. Charlie was intrigued as to its reason, but thought better to ask right now. “That’s a question for another night,” he thought. Fleurette, having cleaned down the pass area, which she did each night, then spoke with all the staff individually about that shift's service. She then asked Charlie to join her in the office once the kitchen was closed down, for which he did. Sitting across from Fleurette once again, he was asked what he thought about what he had seen.
Charlie struggled for a moment to get a coherent word out, which had given Fleurette reason to giggle, but when he had settled himself, he said, “That was the most incredible thing I have ever witnessed and I attempted to take in as much as I could.”
“Excellent, Charlie” responded Fleurette and continued to tell him that she looked forward to imparting a little of her knowledge starting in the morning.
Charlie let her know that he had left the note on her desk with the ingredients he would need. She thanked him then let him know that she would sort out the order in the next couple of days as some items she may have to order in specially.
She then wished Charlie a good night’s sleep and suggested that he head back to his room for a well-earned rest.
He bid her a good night and thanked her for the opportunity, which she warmly replied, “It is my pleasure. Good night, Charlie”.
Before long, he was back to his room relaxing, coffee in hand. Of course, it was Captain Macrina’s special coffee, as to Charlie this fell under the "essential" list. Sitting quietly upon his bed, he pulled the journal from his backpack, wanting to write up the events of that day before it became a blur. The journal sat opened in front of him for a short while as he tried to find the words to express the day’s events, from the moment he had been woken by Chef Luc's overly excited banging on the door, to the moment he returned to the staff annex for his first night’s sleep. Pinching his arm, saying to himself, “No, not a dream,” as he chuckled quietly before wrote his journal entry with sheer exhilaration.
The next day he was up bright and early, managed to get into the shared bathroom, but did pass along the corridor two members of staff who definitely had expressions on their faces of, “Dude, just leave me alone.” Once washed, he dressed into his new whites which had been a gift from Chef Luc as these had his name and the shops logo embroidered onto the left breast of the jacket, the logo only on the left sleeve. Now dressed, new tool box and journal in hand, he made his way to the kitchen and to start his day.
He made his way downstairs and across the small car park and joined Théo standing outside waiting for the rear door to be unlocked.