Waiting for Anton…

So, I’m in Paris.  I have a humble babysitting job to make ends meet while waiting on my working papers.  I search for the kids after school, buy groceries, cook dinner, and encourage the completion of homework.  Yesterday afternoon, the children’s mother informed me that I would be cooking for 8 on Friday night.  Nothing a roast chicken couldn’t handle, right?  Sure enough, this afternoon she informed me of one other important detail.  And guess who is coming to dinner!  It’s family friend Frédéric Anton, three-star chef and judge on Masterchef France.  (SHIT!  SHIT!  SHIT!)  There really is no American equivalent to this.  But I’ll shallowly compare Frédéric Anton to Tom Colicchio since they are both tv personalities with culinary street cred and members of the bald brotherhood.

So, what does one cook for a famous 3-star chef?  One thing is for sure, even though I can crank out a decent boeuf bourguignon, there is no way I’m touching French food.  Just like I would never sing the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ in the presence of Aretha Franklin. Luckily, I have been a devoted pupil of Masterchef since its conception.  And Frédéric Anton preaches to his puppy-eyed aspiring chefs to keep it simple and respect the integrity of the ingredients.  Part of me feels like I should really do something American; there’s always something to be said about the complimentary coupling of peanut butter and jelly.  At the end of the day, I need to make something I know.  Needless to say, HELP!

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