It’s Ratatouille on the wall with the projector and homemade kettle corn with a drizzle of maple syrup on top. It’s that kind of night, a smooth, slow ending to a long and worthwhile day.
I’m in a cozy mood, likely influenced by the movie’s French ambiance. I want to take a cooking class and spend a weekend away in a chateau filled with fine dining. Sure, the fried rice we made was top-notch, but it’s not anywhere close to earning us a Michelin star.
Welp, even if I got a hankering and a bag of cash left on the front porch, the Michelin Guide website reports: “Unfortunately, there are no selected restaurants in the area you’ve searched for. The areas covered by the MICHELIN Guide are increasing regularly, so we may have some selection soon.”
When watching Ratatouille, there was a scene where the rat chef identified all the cooks in the kitchen, and the one that stood out to me was the saucier, or sauce chef. I just assumed the other cooks took on sauces in addition to whatever else they did, but the fact that there is specifically one chef who manages the sauces made something in me click my leprechaun heels.
I just adore sauces: gravies, ranches, Caesar dressings, Alfredo, hollandaise. Come to think of it, perhaps I was a saucier in my former life. A big, puffy pastry hat bobbing around as I stirred and sipped, and twisted the knob to just the right temperature.
Evelyn snuck out of her bedroom and is sitting beside me. She knows I write a blog, but at her age, it’s a little unclear what it is. “Are you writing for all your friends?” Yes, I tell her. “Well, there are words wrong.” She points to ten or words underlined in red that are misspelled or redundant, and I fix them for her. She’s satisfied, and as a prize, she tucks her little Yorkie stuffie into the crook of my neck.
She and I had a really nice time together earlier. After learning that childcare at the YMCA closed at 2 pm, she chose for us to go for a walk to a nearby park instead. We made it to the park, but it was undergoing a remodel. So we went to another park, where we ran into her good friend Penny. The two of them giggled, rolled, and chased one another. It was really sweet. I tried not to feel guilty that we are moving, and how moments like the ones today will be an impossibility. I know, I know, we’ll make new memories.
See ya tomorrow! Take care. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 