Remem-ber, Remem-ber the 8th of May

Today is one of four French national holidays during the month of May, including May Day (May 1), Ascension (May 9 this year), and Pentecost Monday (May 20 this year). May is, it seems, the most “holidayed” month of the year for the French. Given that it’s usually the most beautiful month of the year in Paris, that’s just fine with me!

If you’ve ever wondered why May 8 is a holiday here, read on

(Originally published May 8, 2012)

je parle américain's avatarje parle américain

May is a month chock full of holidays here in France. Just last week, we celebrated May Day. Since it fell on a Tuesday, lots of French took Monday off as well so they could have a four-day weekend — that’s what the French call faire le pont (“to make the bridge”). This year, May is also the month that brings us such Christian holidays as Ascension on May 17 and Pentecost on May 27. While the latter is no longer a public holiday in France, the former is … but let’s not get into a discussion about laïcité, okay? Instead, I’m writing about today’s holiday:

le 8 mai

A blogger friend of mine noted in a post today that it was “Victory Day” … but no one could tell her exactly which victory it commemorated. Being the history nerd that I am, I passed along the needed…

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Second Breakfast

The inspiration for this post — believe it or not — was an ultrasound I had yesterday. Don’t worry: It turns out that I’m not pregnant nor do I have an appendicitis or a hernia. What I feared might be a more serious condition was, in fact, just an infection from a ninja spider bite. But that’s a story for another day, because you want to know what in the world that has to do with “second breakfast.” Continue reading Second Breakfast

The rabbit of Easter. He bring of the chocolate.

Well, Easter is right around the corner, so it came as no surprise this morning when my French oral expression teacher broached the topic of the holiday with my class. Since we all come from somewhere other than France, the logical first question was:

“Do you celebrate Easter in your home country
and, if you do, what are the traditions there?” Continue reading The rabbit of Easter. He bring of the chocolate.

A morning at the Opera

So, when was the last time you took a school field trip?

For most of us, it’s probably been a while. For me, though, it was just yesterday, and it was pretty cool.

I haven’t written much about my studies this semester, but I will in the near future. In a nutshell, after four semesters of French courses at one school, I’m now enrolled in another one for what should be my final semester of French. My classes are very different this time around. There’s much less grammar and literature and much more written and oral expression. Yesterday, in fact, our grammar professor was absent, so our oral expression professor used that two-hour time slot to take us on a field trip to …

the Paris Opera!  Continue reading A morning at the Opera

Pretty in Pink

One of the advantages of being a perpetual student is spring break. At my new school, we actually have two spring breaks: one this week and one at the end of April. Not a bad deal, huh? Unfortunately, because of Michel‘s schedule and our lack of disposable income at the moment, there are no exotic spring break excursions on our calendar this year. Two years ago this month, though, I took a weekend jaunt down to a beautiful spot in southwest France, which made me think, “If I can’t travel this time around, I can always remember … <sigh> …

Toulouse
Continue reading Pretty in Pink

The dish ran away with the spoon.

The dessert spoon: everybody knows what one is and what it’s for. If, after a big meal, you’re served … say … a banana pudding, you need a little spoon to eat it. The same is true here in France, of course: to savor a mousse au chocolat, you need a little spoon … for a crème brûlée, you need a little spoon … for a slice of chocolate cake, you need a little sp …

Hold on, wait just a minute …

Continue reading The dish ran away with the spoon.

That was one FAT Tuesday!

Last year, I wrote a fairly popular article about Mardi Gras. In it, I talked about the HBO series Treme, my attraction to the city of New Orleans, the history of Mardi Gras celebrations there, and the story of my first attempt at making a New Orleans King Cake. It was really quite informative and pretty entertaining. (In case you missed it, that was a plug for you to go read it. Go ahead … you can get to it from here.) The article got a lot of hits this Mardi Gras season, too, apparently from people searching for the correct way to pronounce “Laissez les bons temps rouler!” — that infamous Cajun expression that absolutely no one says in France … except for Americans!

To be honest, last year’s attempt at making a New Orleans King Cake here in France bore almost no resemblance to the real thing. Since we didn’t have an oven, we had to depend on the local bakery for our brioche, and they just don’t make brioche here in Paris in the form of a ring or crown. On top of that, we couldn’t find colored sugar or the right food colorings at the local supermarket, so we improvised with candied fruit. And in place of the little plastic Baby Jesus, we used a ceramic Virgin Mary, the fève from one of our several galettes des rois from the Epiphany season. The result — as delicious as it most certainly was — looked more like a shrine to Our Lady of Candy Land than a King Cake.

King Cake à la je parle américaine—You have to work with what you've got! © 2012 Michel Denis Pouradier
King Cake à la je parle américaine — You have to work with what you’ve got! © 2012 Michel Denis Pouradier

This year, I tried my hand at it once again, and the result was a much better approximation of the real thing. Continue reading That was one FAT Tuesday!

Provins: Wool Tunics, Honey, and Roses

It’s been ten days since my last post and, although I’m currently in the midst of end-of-semester exams, I feel compelled to share something with you. But what? It’s not as if I’m experiencing anything new and exciting lately; all that seems to occupy my mind these days is French grammar … French literature … French cinema … and French history. Just yesterday, in fact, I took the final exam for my seminar on the history of Paris from its origins to the French Revolution, which was — obviously — heavy on the Middle Ages. That brought to mind one of the weekend trips Michel and I have taken, one that’s a definite must for any medieval history buff living in Paris …

Provins
(pronounced [pʁo.vɛ̃] — no “s” — otherwise French people will hear “provinces,”
the generic word for somewhere other than Paris,
and they’ll just ask you again where you’re going specifically)
Continue reading Provins: Wool Tunics, Honey, and Roses

Did we eat the President’s galette by mistake?

January 6 is Epiphany, the Christian holiday that commemorates the visitation of the Magi (the Three Wise Men, or the Three Kings) to the Baby Jesus. I’m not going to get into a long discourse on the theological meaning of the festival, but I do want to share with you its culinary meaning …

Continue reading Did we eat the President’s galette by mistake?

“A star, a star, dancing in the night …”

Photo credit: © 2011 Michel Denis Pouradier, all rights reserved

Tonight, I’ll be celebrating Christmas Eve with my French family and, even though I’ll see my parents on Skype, I’ll be missing them terribly. It’s not easy to be 4,000 miles away from them on a day like today, but that’s how it is for the moment. Last year, Michel and I spent Christmas in South Carolina, so this year it’s my turn to celebrate in France. Since I won’t be contemplating the meaning of the day in the soft glow of the lights of their Christmas tree, listening to Bing Crosby on my father’s old record player, and waiting with anticipation for some decadent dessert from my mom’s kitchen, I’d like to dedicate this song — one of my favorites — to my dear, sweet parents.

Mama and Daddy, I wish you a Merry Christmas with all my heart,
and I want you to know that I’ll be home as soon as I can, even if it won’t be this Christmas Eve.

(the Carrie Underwood version)

(the Glee version, which — as lovely as it is — unfortunately lacks the final verse)

And now, the story of that beautiful song  … Continue reading “A star, a star, dancing in the night …”