But where am I here? What am I doing in this uniform?
Ouch, that’s not working at all … Who are those people asking me for bread?
Breath deep, settle down.
"Um… Excuse me… what are you doing in my head?"
"Sorry Sir, but this is not what I ordered!

" 7:01am: My alarm clock rings.

After a little jump, lifting my head from the pillow, I gather my wherewithal, dry off my forehead and slowly get ready to execute my last day waiting tables at the Saisons restaurant. You understand that two weeks of service can sometimes shake up certain students on the culinary arts and restaurant management program …

I get to the Institut; it’s 8am.

Wide eyed, I put on my ceremonial dress: black pants, white shirt, tie, red vest and black coat; I’m fit to go out and play the accordion in the subway.

All joking aside, I arrive at the office, greet my team, and then start polishing my 250 goblets for the noon service.

- Ah… if only I could return to the front… the ovens, I meant to say…

After a brief exchange with Mr. Ricolleau, the head waiter at the Saisons restaurant, I learn the good news:
"François, for noon today, you are going to take care of the Reading Room by yourself. Be on your toes, they are regulars!"
"Yes Boss… er… yes Mr. Ricolleau.

" I drop my glasses, requisition the trolley, load the artillery… pardon, the silverware and hurry to set the table; it’s 10:34am.

After this brief introduction, I am not particularly in a hurry but I am going to take you directly to the arrival of the guests just the same.

It is 12:15pm; three silhouettes appear on the horizon.

The doorman, as straight as an "i", opens the doors of the château.

The assistant head waiter, on the second line, hurries to take our guests’ coats and stares at me; I approach discretely:
"Have I stained my shirt? What’s wrong?"
"Let me introduce François; he’s the student who’ll be taking care of you today. Enjoy yourselves!

" The introductions having been made, I install my three guests in the reading room, hand them menus and bring them a drink.
"Madam, Sirs, are you ready to order?"
"Yes, we’ll have 3 Château menus. Madam will have the lightly cooked tuna and the bass with Maldon salt, this gentleman and myself will have the foie gras and the lamb’s shoulder cooked navarin style."
"Very well Sir, I’ll call the sommelier."
"Thank you.

" Not bad for a first solo job… I run to the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear and wham! The swinging door slams me in the face. I hand over the order, my face pale.
"Reading room Boss, all is in order!

" I hurry back to my clients, serve the wine on the right side and begin a difficult task feared by all of the students: serving the bread. Indeed, transporting miniature baguettes from the bread basket to the plate must be done with an improvised pincher using a fork and spoon: may as well ask the waiter to cut up a wild boar…

It is 12:30. The appetizers and the starters all being gone, I bring the covered dishes kept warm under silver dish covers, followed closely by Mr. Ricolleau.

I approach the clients, delicately lay the plates on the table and glance towards my supervisor. After a brief and coordinated movement, the contents of the dishes are unveiled, leaving the five senses somewhat disoriented…

That’s when a small hoarse voice let out these words: "Sorry Sir, but it is not what I ordered!"

Ah, when dream becomes reality…

François Marchenay, étudiant 1st year student in the Culinary Arts culinaires & restaurant management