This will be a big BIG weekend at the CIA where the Bocuse d’Or USA Competition will be staged. Everything is in readiness. The students are giddy with excitement. As are we all. There are so many luminary judges, no additional stars will be required to shine.

All this reminds me of a dinner in Lyon. My American friends were the hosts. They had spent many summers in the South of France dining in the grandest of the grand restaurants. They left exceedingly generous tips.

They decided to invite six of the most illustrious chefs to dinner at their rented villa. The chefs accepted and showed up at the appointed hour. My friends had cooked a leg of lamb and invited Paul Bocuse to carve it. Chef Bocuse rose from his chair, bowed and grasped the carving knife. He rested the fork on the roasted meat for a fraction of a minute.

“C’est terrible!’ He declared with a deep frown and promptly sat down.

He explained, When the little lambs are in the field, the flies come. Standing on one leg, the lamb brushes away the flies with his other leg. Thus one leg is more muscular and less tender than the other.

“Madame, You have served the wrong leg!”

With a roar of laughter, he proceeded to cut the meat.

I’m teaching a course on love affairs. I am the matchmaker. I ask the students : What do YOU  LOVE TO DO — not what do you like to do — what do you LOVE to do in your spare time like riding a bike or taking photographs, or skiing or watching TV or playing video games? Once I have this essential information to ponder, I try my best to propose a marriage between your life and your career.

In the last semester one fellow said he just wants to ride his Harley and write about food. He’s landed a column at a biking magazine!

This is the first day of the new class at the CIA. It is an elective and 27 students have enrolled.  This is what I’m planning to say:

May I begin by asking you to look at the person seated next to you. And to the person seated in front and behind you?

Immediately you’ll see there is nobody in the world who looks like you, thinks like you or has had the same experiences you have had. You are unique. And special. And as Christopher Robin said to Winnie the Pooh:

Promise me you’ll always remember you’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.  So to echo President Obama: Yes you can!

This should get us ALL FIRED UP AND READY TO GO!

Teaching this class is what I love to do.

There are a lot of reasons to love being a teacher but among the most rewarding is hearing from students months and even years after the class has ended.  Molly Kendall called yesterday. She graduated from the CIA in 2007. It was her idea to invite my personal friends to write about their specific careers for my Food Jobs book.

At first I was hesitant, thinking this was a huge imposition, but every single person responded immediately and enthusiastically: Nach Waxman owner of my favorite store contributed an essay about his life at Kitchen Arts & Letters, so did Barbara Haber who laid the foundation of the cookbook collection at the Schlessenger Library and literary agent Lisa Ekus and Delores Custer the Queen of food styling. Betty Fussell, Darra Goldstein (Gastronomica) and Anne Willan and David Robinson described their work as did dozens of others who provided wonderful insights and really useful information for the readers.

They say it is lonely being a writer. What rubbish! When I look at my network of cherished friends, I realize I am part of a lovely, celebratory, constantly hungry crowd of food lovers. This makes me rich beyond my wildest dreams.