Vive La France: July 18, 2009 - La Premier Soirée

I know the rumor is that the French are hard to get to know and the Parisians even harder to know. I’m not so sure. This is the beginning of our third month in Paris. We weren’t sure if we actually made friends with some Parisians or if they were just being nice to us. So far, everybody we’ve met, friends or strangers, have been very accommodating. They patiently wait for me to spit out my poor French and gently correct my pronunciation or grammar. Thus, it was with some trepidation that we asked some locals to dinner.

Now, Katherine, Wendy, Mike [Delphine’s boyfriend from Hawaii who knows even less French than me] and me, all speak American [yes, American, get over it]. Delphine speaks French [obviously] and her English is incredible. Pierre speaks French but has the occasional “Oh my God” outbursts. Therefore, since we are here to learn to speak French fluently, the plan was to speak as much French as possible.

Paris custom is to arrive no later than 15 minutes from the appointed time which in this case, was 8pm. The reason for this promptness is that no libation can be offered until the last guest is present. Delphine, Mike, and Pierre arrived together 5 minutes early. Being a Yank, it was hard for me to stick to the Paris custom so I asked if we should wait for Wendy. Since the champagne they brought was getting warmer and since the Paris custom is variable depending upon who’s invited and how thirsty you are…..the corked got popped immediately. I don’t really remember what time Wendy arrived but by Paris soirée time, it was one bottle of champagne late! And as I started to open a bottle of white wine, Wendy arrived with “Je suis desolée” and another bottle of champagne was popped. Now the party really got going.

I made one of my signature dishes, Veal Shank Redemption; the aromas were sensual [or at least that’s what I thought Pierre said]. Katherine made cold asparagus soup which I doctored up with pistachio oil, a gift from Wendy. If you’ve never had pistachio oil, you will just as soon as we return from Europe. It is fantastic stuff. We collaborated on a cauliflower purée and some steamed carrots and haricot verts. With two bottles of champers dead, and two white burgundies dying, it was time to begin dinner.

By the time we finished our asparagus soup, the crowd got unruly. I don’t remember which demand had the greatest urgency…bring on “la viande” or “more wine”….it was a no-brainer for me; two bottles of great red burgundy. Then we plated the veal. I never expected 3 kilograms of veal to be consumed by six people; but we did! By this time, the French was flowing as quickly as the red wine was being poured. I’m not sure if I actually understood everything that was being said [Katherine managed about 80% of it all] but apparently I held up my end of the conversation…..until.

Until I was asked by Katherine to speak my latest slang expression “bordel de merde” or “holy sh*t”. Unfortunately, these words must be uttered with the proper enunciation, alacrity and volume, which Pierre proceeded to demonstrate and then required me to repeat…several times until I got it right!

By this time, there was no doubt that the party was a success. So we finished the meal with some cheeses, black cherry jam, raisin bread and yoghurt. Oh, and another 2 or 3 bottles of red wine. And as the party was beginning to break up, we started talking about food, the local markets, and lapin [rabbit]. Katherine said she loves rabbit but that I don’t make it. Pierre asked me if I wanted to learn and I said yes; it’s easy to speak French when you’ve had a bit too much wine and even easier to agree to do something t

hat you have no idea about. So we arranged to meet promptly at 9:30AM the next morning at our local market to pick out the ingredients for cooking on Monday. My expectation is that this next meal might make an eJ, especially since Pierre will undoubtedly conduct the entire shopping experience “en francais.” Stay tuned.