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The inspiring and delicious memoir of an American woman who had the gall to open a cooking school in Paris—a true story of triumphing over French naysayers and falling in love with a city along the way “An engaging, multilayered story of a woman navigating innumerable cultural differences to build a life in Paris and create her dream: to establish a French cooking school.”—David Lebovitz, author of My Paris Kitchen When Jane Bertch was seventeen, her mother took her on a graduation trip to Paris. Thrilled to use her high school French, Jane found her halting attempts greeted with withering condescension by every waiter and shopkeeper she encountered. At the end of the trip, she vowed she would never return. Yet a decade later she found herself back in Paris, transferred there by the American bank she worked for. She became fluent in the language and excelled in her new position. But she had a different dream: to start a cooking school for foreigners like her, who wanted to take a few classes in French cuisine in a friendly setting, then bring their new skills to their kitchens back home. Predictably, Jane faced the skeptical French—how dare an American banker start a cooking school in Paris?—as well as real-estate nightmares, and a long struggle to find and attract clients. Thanks to Jane’s perseverance, La Cuisine Paris opened in 2009. Now the school is thriving, welcoming international visitors to come in and knead dough, whisk bechamel, whip meringue, and learn the care, precision, patience, and beauty involved in French cooking. The French Ingredient is the story of a young female entrepreneur building a life in a city and culture she grew to love. As she established her school, Jane learned how to charm, how to project confidence, and how to give it right back to rude waiters. Having finally made peace with the city she swore to never revisit,she now offers a love letter to France, and a master class in Parisian cooking—and living.
The inspiring and delicious memoir of an American woman who had the gall to open a cooking school in Paris—a true story of triumphing over French naysayers and falling in love with a city along the way “An engaging, multilayered story of a woman navigating innumerable cultural differences to build a life in Paris and create her dream: to establish a French cooking school.”—David Lebovitz, author of My Paris Kitchen When Jane Bertch was seventeen, her mother took her on a graduation trip to Paris. Thrilled to use her high school French, Jane found her halting attempts greeted with withering condescension by every waiter and shopkeeper she encountered. At the end of the trip, she vowed she would never return. Yet a decade later she found herself back in Paris, transferred there by the American bank she worked for. She became fluent in the language and excelled in her new position. But she had a different dream: to start a cooking school for foreigners like her, who wanted to take a few classes in French cuisine in a friendly setting, then bring their new skills to their kitchens back home. Predictably, Jane faced the skeptical French—how dare an American banker start a cooking school in Paris?—as well as real-estate nightmares, and a long struggle to find and attract clients. Thanks to Jane’s perseverance, La Cuisine Paris opened in 2009. Now the school is thriving, welcoming international visitors to come in and knead dough, whisk bechamel, whip meringue, and learn the care, precision, patience, and beauty involved in French cooking. The French Ingredient is the story of a young female entrepreneur building a life in a city and culture she grew to love. As she established her school, Jane learned how to charm, how to project confidence, and how to give it right back to rude waiters. Having finally made peace with the city she swore to never revisit,she now offers a love letter to France, and a master class in Parisian cooking—and living.
Due to publisher restrictions the library cannot purchase additional copies of this title, and we apologize if there is a long waiting list. Be sure to check for other copies, because there may be other editions available.
Due to publisher restrictions the library cannot purchase additional copies of this title, and we apologize if there is a long waiting list. Be sure to check for other copies, because there may be other editions available.
Excerpts-
From the cover1
And Paris Laughed
| 2006 |
If you are at a café in Paris and would like lemon with your tea, you say, “Pardonnez-moi, monsieur, puis-je avoir du citron avec mon thé?”
I knew this on my first visit to Paris in 1993, because I’d taken a little French, and I had a trusty guidebook with a translation section in the back. But I knew very little else.
I was almost eighteen years old, and my mother took me on a weeklong trip to Europe as a graduation gift: three days in London, three days in Paris. I’d never been out of the United States before, having spent most of my life comfortably ensconced in or near Chicago.
At the opulent Café de la Paix overlooking the Palais Garnier, Paris’s famed opera house, my mom and I decided to rest our feet and order some tea. The café is an institution, and was once frequented by the likes of Oscar Wilde, Émile Zola, and Marlene Dietrich. The two of us sat there trying to fit in, despite our white gym shoes practically illuminating our section of the restaurant. I requested the accompanying lemon in French, which I understood to be the respectful approach. I’ll never forget the look on the waiter’s face. I had certainly never seen a look like that in Illinois or Indiana. He narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose, as if I had suddenly emitted a foul odor. Pure disgust. “Pardon?” he said, his tone derisive, accusing.
I reddened, horrified and terribly embarrassed. I spent most of my three days in Paris feeling that same way. All I wanted to do at that age was blend in, feel accepted, but it seemed everything my mom or I said or did elicited a version of what I came to think of as the “smell look.” From trying to navigate the métro, to buying tickets at the Louvre, to ordering a meal in a restaurant, I had the keen sense that everyone was looking at us, and that every move we made was just . . . wrong.
After the trip, people asked what I thought. How did I feel about international travel? About London? I couldn’t even remember London. It was Paris that made an impression, and it was a traumatic one. What I thought was, I’m never, ever going back.
______
“How do you feel about Paris, Jane?” asked Tom, a manager I worked with.
I was approaching thirty, and my sixth year working for an international bank’s HR department, in London. While during my teenaged trip, London had been completely eclipsed, ten years later I loved the city. I had a charmingly typical English “garden flat.” I’d made great friends. Even though the British have a reputation for being standoffish and aloof to newcomers, I’d managed to hit the jackpot in the friendship game—doubtless because my colleagues and I were all single and of the same age. I had also learned the nuances of living with the English, like how they never tell you if something is really wrong, because they don’t want to trouble you, and how they consistently undersell their expertise. “Oh my, Jane, I know a little calculus, but I’m hardly Alan Turing.” Never mind that they have a PhD in mathematics.
My time in London had even led me to appreciate Paris . . . or at least, to tolerate it. I occasionally went on weekend jaunts there with my girlfriends, to shop and dine and enjoy an evening or two at Bar Fly, a once well-known bar just between the Champs-Élysées and the Four Seasons George V hotel. I was starting to see the city’s appeal. Each time we’d go, I’d return to London with a full...
Reviews-
February 26, 2024 Bertch chronicles the ups and downs of running a Parisian culinary school in this saucy debut. Growing up in the Midwest, Bertch learned to cook by observing her grandmother throw meals together without glancing at a recipe. That informal attitude served Bertch well in her personal kitchen, but it clashed with the outlooks she encountered in Paris—first as a wide-eyed teen on a high school trip, then as an adult when her banking job transferred her to a French office. “Paris was tough on me,” Bertch admits; her French was rough, and she found locals snobbish. The author gradually curried favor with her banking colleagues, but when she developed an itch to open a tourist-focused French cooking school for people who “wanted more than a trip to the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower to remember Paris by,” she faced backlash from acquaintances and professionals alike. Still, she got La Cuisine Paris off the ground in 2009, and in the memoir’s back half, she recounts the challenges of keeping it open, from real estate snags to the existential threat of the Covid-19 pandemic. Throughout, Bertch is tenacious, self-aware company, cognisant enough of her own judgmental tendencies to balance her portrait of nay-saying French nationals. Entrepreneurial readers will find much to admire in this tale of grit and gumption. Agent: Gail Ross, Ross Yoon Literary.
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Barrie Kreinik is an excellent guide through this memoir and travelogue by Jane Bertch, founder of La Cuisine Paris. She captures Bertch's adventures in Paris as a banker turned entrepreneur. With warmth and authenticity, Kreinik conveys the humorous self- deprecation underlying each anecdote as Bertch grows to accept a city--and country--she once hated. Kreinik balances the complexities of love, ambition, and cultural adaptation. Through her nuanced delivery and impeccable pacing, Kreinik transports listeners into the heart of the bureaucracy of bustling Paris, where dreams are forged and futures are shaped. Fans of travelogues and memoirs will find the perfect blend here as listeners join in on a transformative journey of resilience, growth, and the pursuit of French culinary skills. M.R. © AudioFile 2024, Portland, Maine
