Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Dreams of Pastry in Paris

Starting point is 00:00:00 Before tonight's episode, I want to let you know about our supporters' feed Get Sleepy Premium, the best way to experience the show and get a good night's sleep. With Get Sleepy Premium, everything is ad-free. You'll receive a bonus episode every week, and have full access to our entire back catalogue. Your support really helps, and means so much to us. Simply tap the link in the show notes to learn more. Now, a quick word from our sponsors who make it possible for us to bring you two three episodes each week. Imagine how much better the world would be if everyone woke up well-rested every day.

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Starting point is 00:01:27 and sign up, follow the link for Get Sleepy Premium in the show notes, or you can subscribe directly with in Apple podcasts. Thanks so much for your support. Hello and welcome to Get Sleepy, the podcast where we listen, we relax and we get sleepy. My name's Thomas and I'm your host. As many of you will know, today is Valentine's Day in many parts of the world. And I know we all have mixed feelings towards this yearly occasion, so I hope you don't mind me mentioning it. But I feel like it's an apt opportunity to remind you of just how appreciated you are for tuning in to Get Sleepy and giving us your support. Some sending you a warm message of love and care from everyone at the Get Sleepy team. This show would mean nothing if it weren't for all of you

Starting point is 00:02:33 listeners. Each and every one of you is important to us. We appreciate you so much. appreciate you so much. Now Elizabeth will be reading tonight's story, where we'll join Emma for her first day of pastry school in Paris. So, before we begin our story, let's just take some time to relax. Every night we all go through a process of settling down. Whether it's reading a book, sipping a nice heart drink, maybe enjoying a warm bath an hour or two before bed. We're just watching something gentle on TV. There's lots of things that can contribute to settling down for bed. And the important thing is to find what works best for you and to try and be consistent with that. consistent with that. Of course, part of that process tonight will be listening to a story here on Get Sleepy. And as you enjoy this last step in your process of settling down, try

Starting point is 00:04:00 to bring your awareness to the here and now. Noticing some of the more subtle sensations in your body, mind the bed, creating a cozy cocoon to nest a window for the night. And in turn, feel how your muscles relax more and more as you sink into that coziness. Feel your breathing gently slowing down as well as your heart rate and feel your eyes becoming, as you accept the desire for rest and relaxation. You're on your way now towards a beautiful night's sleep. I don't know what will be the final straw that gets you there, but it will come when the time is right. And now that you've settled into bed, it's time for me to make way for Elizabeth as we travel to Paris. The sky is blue, the clouds are light and airy, and a charming adventure awaits us. There's nothing better than a good, tartoletto citron or lemon tantre on a late summer afternoon

Starting point is 00:06:36 emathold. She was sitting at a small cafe near the Sacreque, an old basilica on top of a hill overlooking Paris. The velvety texture of the Clamau citron creamy and sweet with a hint of tanginess from the lemon played on her tongue with every bite. 3 delicate mint leaves and 1 raspberry adorned the sea of pale yellow. There must always be an odd number of decorations on a pastry she remembered. Never an even number. It's a rule. The first time the fork hit the glossy the crisp pastry crumbled under the slight pressure with a satisfying snap. And after taking a bite, she could hear it crunching in her mouth.

Starting point is 00:07:58 This was a refreshing, elegant, and chic dessert, a treat for all her senses. While enjoying the pastry, Emma's eyes wandered to the three white domes adorning the basilica. the dawning the Basilica. They reminded her of giant meringue cookies, teardrop shaped with pointy ends, the result of whisking egg whites with sugar into a white fluffy mixture. fluffy mixture. Emma could imagine tearing a piece from the giant morangues to reveal a chewy middle. morangues are a foundational recipe in French pastry. That's what she had read in her books in preparation for this trip. According to the literature, there were three types she had to know. There was the Swiss meringue, Achieved by warming sugar and egg whites over a pot of hot water before whisking them arm. There was the French meringue often considered to be the easiest to make as it There's no heat, it's just egg whites whipped up and held together by sugar, added in small quantities at the beginning and then again when the mixture is just about to form stiff peaks. Then, there was the Italian meringue, the most stable and glossiest of them all.

Starting point is 00:10:13 Warm sugar syrup is brought to a boil and then gradually poured over the egg whites while they are being whisked. The mixing continues until the meringue is no longer warm. The smooth texture makes it perfect for baked meringue cookies, because they will remain gooey inside and crunchy outside. With this knowledge, Emma knew that if the domes on the top of the Basilica were in fact giant morangs, they would be of the Italian variety. Smiling, Emma turned around to see Paris winding down on this Sunday afternoon. The sky was clear and the eye-fought tower stood watch over the city in the distance. Behind her the church bells rang to mount the six o'clock hour. Earlier in the summer Emma had the edge to bake panacotta, an Italian dessert consisting of jellified cream.

Starting point is 00:11:50 Why she had this edge she didn't know, but she made them in all shapes and flavours. Apple basil, strawberry ginger, White Chocolate Raspberry, anything that came to mind. Baking made her day's joyful and her nights restful with a sense of fulfillment. It was this experiment of creation in the kitchen that resulted in an online search for pastry schools. She found one in Paris, one of the birth places of modern pastry. After signing up for the programme, she packed her bags and moved to the French capital about a month later. She had been to Paris before, but visiting is different than living in a place. When you visit, you are at Auras, you go to the main sites, while trying to acquire as much information as possible. But when you live there, you begin to notice the little details that make each place so unique. The smell of the chestnut trees, especially after it rains, or a freshly baked bread in the morning. How no

Starting point is 00:13:52 one is especially pressed for time and how they allow themselves to enjoy their morning coffee while sitting down. It was these details Emma had come to appreciate during her time in Paris. The architecture in the center of Paris was the kind that seemed to transport her back in time to life in another century. The buildings went very tall and they all blended into each other connected by small, winding streets. Most doors were made of wood and the windows were small. Some streets she found were decorated with pots of flowers hanging hanging from the street lamps, while others were left bare to rely on their own charms. Emma was in love, not because Paris was the romantic city where couples would hang locks on bridges but because she was at ease with herself. She realized that the French found purpose not only in work but in life itself. Of course having a job important, but so was enjoying the process of living, and

Starting point is 00:15:51 Emma enjoyed everything about living in Paris. She took the last bite of her dream and sat back on her chair, wondering what awaited her the next day when she finally started pastry school. What would it be like? What would be the first thing she made. These were questions that only time could answer. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma noticed that the woman sitting next to her had ordered a small dome-like dessert covered in chocolate and nuts. It was the pastry enthusiast in Emma that acted like a magnet to all things sweet. She seemed to see desserts everywhere she went. On her plate, the woman had a doom on the waset, a hazelnut mousse cake,

Starting point is 00:17:11 consisting of various layers, covered with a chocolate hazelnut glaze. To put it simply, it looked like an oversized, not covered chocolate ball cut in half and placed on a white plate. To achieve the dome shape, the chocolate hazelnut moves had to set in the freezer in a spherical mold for about 30 minutes. Emma imagined what it would be like to mix the mousse. She would have to add the melted chocolate last, being mindful of the temperature difference between the warm chocolate and the cold hazelnut cream mixture. There was a possibility that the chocolate would seize up if the mousse was too cold. The chocolate to warm or both, resulting in crumbs.

Starting point is 00:18:34 The chocolate was meant to hold the mousse together, making the mixing process all the more important. the mixing process all the more important otherwise the dome could get stuck in the mold. A slow me-long or mix was the key to achieving that smooth, luscious and even consistency. This was a complex design to mate and Emma couldn't help but feel intimidated by it. She had often heard that the French cuisine industry was like the army. The head chef was your commanding officer and you treated them as such. Anything the chef said regardless of what it was had to be answered with a strong strong, yes, by calling out, we, chef. Emma had thought that the army comparison might be a bit of an exaggeration, but now she wondered if she was wrong. What if the kitchen ended up becoming a battlefield once she could not survive? It was hard to let go of these thoughts as she walked back home. The potted flowers hung from the street lamps, guiding her way as the day began to cool down and the moon

Starting point is 00:20:30 replaced the sun in the sky. She noticed the shop owners closing up for the day. On the corner there was a bulong shui, a cozy bakery. Through the window Emma could see the bakers mixing the dough so they could leave it to prove for the next day. Emma remembered watching a show about bread making. They had explained that the mother dough was the basis to start the bread, the natural yeast that allowed the dough to rise. a rise. A mixture of water, flour, and sometimes a few drops of lemon would be left to ferment in a container until it grew into a bubbling monster known as the Mother Doe. The result was soft bread with uniform air pockets and a crunchy crust. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that the same street would be filled with the smell of baking bread in the morning. The brioche or sweet bread would be shaved and placed into buttered mons. The long thin baguettes would be rolled out and razor cuts would be added to the top for

Starting point is 00:22:28 the steam to escape. Emma could tell that the bakery on the corner would make many people happy come morning. That night she promised herself that she would do her best in pastry school, no matter what came her way. The next day was orientation. The school provided a uniform which included a chef's jacket, apron, hat, towel, tie, and white and black trousers that reminded her of pajamas. She had several chef instructors who all spoke French, were strict, some more than others, and had a deep passion for their profession. After signing an agreement that she would never discuss, share, or reproduce any of the recipes that would be given to her, except for personal and professional use, Emma started her first class. Classes were six hours each, three hours of demonstration where she would watch one of the shaps make the recipes, and another three hours where the students had to reproduce

Starting point is 00:24:22 what they had seen in the kitchen. The first recipe was for sablaid de amante, literally meaning diamond cookies, round French butter cookies lined with sugar on the outside. Emma had expected to be assigned the hazelnut dome she had seen the woman eating the day before, or something else of immense difficulty. She had made the diamond cookies before, and that reassured her how hard could it be, she thought. Once in the kitchen, she started weighing out all the ingredients, butter, powdered sugar, granulated sugar, vanilla extract, vanilla powder, flour and salt. She then started mixing them together in a metal bowl. Fast the butter and the sugar, then the flour with a pinch of salt, followed by the vanilla. The dough came together easily and she enjoyed the sweet scent of the vanilla powder. To finish the dough, she placed it on the marble countertop and rolled it with her hands into a long cylinder. Small pieces of dough crumbled away and separated from the main mass, but Emma incorporated them

Starting point is 00:26:29 again, and kept rolling until the outside of the dough was shiny and smooth. She was careful not to use too much pressure. The butter had been at room temperature for some time and the heat from her hands had also warmed it to the point where the dough was malleable but delicate to handle. The cylinder was then rolled in sugar, so the outside sparkled with sweetness. The whole roll was wrapped in parchment paper and placed into the freezer. to the freezer. While waiting for the butter in the diamond cookie dough to harden, she leaned against the counter and looked at all the other students, rolling their dough and coating it in sugar the same way. The left over sugar on the black countertops looked like stardars. Was this a dream? Or was she finally fulfilling her dream of becoming a pastry chef? finger pastry chef. The answer was made clear 15 minutes later, once the dough was hard enough for her to cut the roll into discs. The cookies were arranged on a baking tray in in staggered rows that allowed air to flow evenly during baking.

Starting point is 00:28:27 The last step was to place her tray in the oven. Once the cookies were in, the kitchen was filled with the smell of sweet buttery goodness. Emma took a peek at her batch baking in the oven. The sizzling sound of cooking butter and sugar seemed to cool her to watch as the cookies baked. Not long after, they were done. The chef came around to inspect every student's badge. When he saw Emma's diamond cookies, he smiled. He picked up the wand that was farthest away from him and held it up. This is good, he said, but it's not fully round that will come with practice. He placed the cookie back down and continued his inspection. Just like that, her first day was over. Emma walked home that night with a container full of fresh out of the oven cookies.

Starting point is 00:30:09 The first day had been a surprise. She had expected to be yelled at and criticized for her work, or rather for its failure. But the chef was kind and understanding. Of course, he still gave her a three out of five. But she had learned that only patience, persistence and time could could create a perfectly round cooking. Maybe all the times that the chef told them to hurry wasn't meant to be a chest-eisement, but rather a reminder of their gongs. Just like when you run a marathon, and there are people cheering you on. The chefs were cheering for Emma and all the other students in their own way. All while keeping order.

Starting point is 00:31:16 That's the way it works, she thought. Her instructors certainly got the same treatment when they were training to become chefs. After entering the professional world, they mirrored their mentors. Emma was determined to do her best. In the following months, she would plunge herself into the world of pastry and food. Her small Parisian apartment would begin to overflow with sweet treats. treat. She would learn how to line a tart ring and undo her work only to do it all over again. She would practice whipping up a meringue by hand as fast as she could since machines were not allowed during the first level. She would buy mashed potato mix from the supermarket and practice her piping. While cleaning up her experiments, she She would repeat the recipes over and over in her head to memorize them for the exams to come. The call of we Shaff would become part of her every day of a vocabulary and nothing more than a reflex. The kitchen would become her love and her life. Future conversations would revolve around food, and outings would consist of finding innovative restaurants to try.

Starting point is 00:33:25 When Emma finally reached her apartment, she placed the container with the diamond cookies on the kitchen table next to a vase of flowers. Only then did she realize how tired she was with all the excitement and contentment that she felt. That night, lying in bed, Emma did not want to go to sleep. She could see the iPhone tower light up every hour and was determined to memorize as many details as she could, in printing the image on her mind. The strains of Edith Piaf's classic song, Le Viengreux, played in the background of her apartment. It was evocative of time and place, and Emma felt emotion well up within her.

Starting point is 00:34:40 If there was a song to capture the essence of Paris, it would be this one. It was the perfect tune to mark the end of a wonderful Parisian day. The slow, romantic melody played by violins, accompanied by piano and her song Tree Voids was a love letter to those who also loved this place. As the song came to an end Emma got out of bed and went to the kitchen once again. She found the container with the shortbread diamonds and sat down by the window. She picked up one of the buttery sugar-covered cookies she had made that day in school and took a bite. The texture was hard but crumbled easily, sending a cascade of stardust into her lap. The cookie was simple, yet satisfying.

Starting point is 00:36:07 Then Emma got arm and took some macarons from the French before returning to her place by the window. She had brought the sweet, almond sandwich cookies afternoon, while strolling by the scent, the river that traversed Paris. The crust of each cookie was hard and the middle was soft. She left the rose-paddle macaron for last. The buttercream was delicate with a floral hint. One day soon she would move on from the one she'd bought Emma promised herself. No matter what the coming weeks would bring Emma knew in that moment as she gazed out the window over the rooftops of this romantic city with the taste of rose patterns on her tongue,

Starting point is 00:37:30 that she would always keep both pastry and Paris in her heart. you ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... you

Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Dreams of Pastry in Paris

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