Sketches
Interlude
In the next months, a few things happened at L'academie Culinaire de Paris. Claude Ravel managed to get himself expelled when caught by the president harassing a couple of girls. Charles and Roslin fell in love and began seriously dating. Colette continued to work hard, not allowing herself any distractions. As midterms loomed ever nearer, the days were longer and quieter, as all the students were focused on studying.
After the midterm exams were over, Professor le Chef Favreau admitted many of the girls (including Roslin and Colette) and Charles into his advanced group, and moved a good number of the boys back down to his lower level group. The rest of the semester, they thrived not only in Favreau's class, but in all their classes.
At the end of the semester, both Colette and Roslin received recognition for their cooking at one of the campus's restaurants, and landed internships at Le Cinq Restaurant which kept them busy through their second year at the academy.
Life continued in this way, studying at school, working on campus, and intern work at Le Cinq, all through their last spring semester.
A warm June morning brought the Curriculum Completion Ceremony, where they were to receive their Certificates of Mastery. A selective few students sat in the hall in all their best attire. The ceremony was set in a breakfast setting and included many famed culinary artists, most of whom were patrons of the school. They began speeches and toasts. Auguste Gusteau was present. He made a speech on how his real passion for cooking was sparked at this school and on why he believed it produced such skill in its students. His expressions and arm-gestures were nauseatingly flamboyant, but all his words were so true, Colette mused. Other professors and important faculty members also spoke.
Finally, the awards were given in order by last name. Colette and Charles watched as a tearful Roslin Bellamont walked up in a pale blue dress to receive her certificate. Colette smiled as she applauded her. How like her to cry at something like this, she thought. Then she looked to her right and saw Charles wipe a tear from his cheek. She stifled a chuckle. So perfect for each other...
Not long after, Colette Tatou was announced by the president of the school. Colette stood in her white blouse and black dress slacks, walked to the head table, and received her certificate. She shook hands with all the important guests, thanking them as they congratulated her.
Once all the formalities were through, the friends temporarily parted to receive kisses and hugs from their loved ones. Colette's mother, and her youngest sister, Magdalena met her. "Where are Francine et Pauline?" Colette asked.
Her mother answered, "Both busy with work," and she wrapped Colette in yet another hug, saying, "I'm so proud of my girls, all working and independent!"
"Ah, Maman! This is nothing! I have to get a real job first—," Just then, a very large man approached the little group.
"Auguste Gusteau," he introduced himself and held out his hand.
"Pleased to meet you," they all said, taking turns to shake his hand. Colette was the most pleased; Gusteau was one of the few men in the culinary world that she genuinely respected, because of his philosophy: Anyone can cook. That, and because he was known for being grounded. He was not one of those chefs who contributed to the snooty haute cuisine stereotype. Rather, he was a real artist.
He addressed Colette's mother. "You are Madame Tatou, I presume?" His politeness was almost shocking. Irénée Tatou, a woman of medium height and a firm, stout figure, actually faltered slightly. She collected herself, "Oui."
"You should be proud! Your daughter is very talented. I had the pleasure of tasting her cooking at the Campus Center Restaurant recently and enjoyed the most wonderful boeuf bourguignon! Mademoiselle, was the marinade your own?"
"Oui, chef."
"Magnifique. I am so glad it was. But also, the mushrooms. Perfectly seasoned! And it pleases me so much that you did the buerre manie. So many ignore that part of the recipe, but it works much better when it is included!
"The dish was exquisite. So precisely measured and technical, but in the best way possible! It is your style, ce n'est pas?"
He returned once again to addressing the three of them, "I believe in nourishing new talents, and that she may flourish in my kitchen." Then back to Colette alone, "I encourage you to visit one day."
"I will! Merci, chef!" Colette nodded. Gusteau walked away, off to socialize with others.
Magda took Colette's hand and squeezed it. Magdalena beamed at her older sister, who was in a state of disbelief. Madame Tatou exclaimed, "I say again. I'm proud of my girls."
Colette began to scan the room for Roslin. She quickly spotted her conversing quietly with two mild-mannered people, obviously her parents: the father, a bespectacled, short-bearded man with a bit of a belly, and the mother, a petit woman with the same exact red tresses as her daughter. Roslin was, in fact, an exact image of her mother, but for her taller height and green eyes instead of her mother's brown ones.
Colette waited for their conversation to come to a close. In a couple minutes, Roslin excused herself from her parents, and came over to Colette. "Your mother looks just like you," Colette told Roslin.
"Yes? Everyone says that, but I don't see it."
"Yes."
There was a long pause.
"That's weird," Roslin broke the silence.
"What?"
"We haven't done that weird awkward silence thing in ages."
"Hmm," Colette understood. "This whole day is weird." They had had this conversation before. "We've been roommates for two years now. It's weird that we won't be anymore. You're going to the south of the country on holiday with Charles and your family, and – and!" she couldn't continue.
Roslin finished, "And you will stay with your oldest sister until you find work. Which will take you no time, we've had this convers— are you crying?! What's wrong with you?"
Colette grabbed Roslin's hand and pulled her outside onto the entrance of the building, where there was more quiet. "I won't have to stay at Francine's for long! Gusteau as good as offered me a position in his kitchen!"
Roslin's jaw dropped, "Get out! When?" she squealed.
"Just now! He said I should visit and he likes encouraging new talent or something! He said he thinks I'll do well! Remember that boeuf bourguignon I made last week at work? He was the customer, and he liked it!"
"Mon dieu, congratulations!" Roslin reached for her friend and pulled her into a tight embrace. She felt Colette's back shudder with more tears. "Hey! We've talked about this, remember? We will write and phone each other all the time and maybe even meet up on weekends and holidays. Don't worry! And stop crying, it really freaks me out when you cry."
She stopped. "Oh, you're right..." Colette said, surprised at herself.
They knew they'd see each other again.