They are easing us back into the routine. Our first cake is the Baba au Rhum, a bread-like cake that is soaked in citrus syrup and then filled with pastry cream. I put about 1/8 of the required rum because the rum at school is an instant hangover kind of bad. It’s not my best use of a piping bag, but it’ll do.

Now in Superior, no translations are provided. This doesn’t seem to be a problem yet, but I can tell it will be for a few people, who really don’t speak ANY French. I decided that I need to concentrate in class and I ain’t translating shit for nobody, bitches! Frankly, I know these non-French speaking people and I don’t feel bad for them. Not to be a bitch myself, but, hey, you’ve been in France for six months people, if you needed to take a lesson or two, you should have. I have endless admiration for this guy Sawarto from Singapore. He got here and he didn’t speak word one of French and he also seemed pretty inept at interpreting body language and mime. He’s been taking lessons, and now he is understanding 100% and even asking his own questions in French. Way to be motivated, my friend. I wish they had ditched the translations at the beginning of intermediate; it may have weeded out some bad apples.