Sunday, May 24, 2009

champagne and cheese puffs

Two weekends ago was the confirmation of my twin host siblings, Edouard and Charlotte. All day Sunday included lots of family, friends, music, dancing and a very typical six hour French meal. This gives me the perfect opportunity to try and describe the wonderfulness that is French cuisine and the very traditional French ways of eating.

First and foremost, you always start with an aperitif which is usually a light wine (typically champagne) or brandy/whiskey for the men. This also includes little hand snacks such as crackers or freshly cut raw vegetables (as is mainly the case during the spring and then summer). The aperitif is generally taken in the living room, or outdoors. If you’re at a fancy party which is not in someone’s house, it’s usually taken in a random room with servers passing around the drinks and peanuts, olives, etc. and everyone stands and socializes. It’s a nice way to start the meal with light conversation and lets the hostess check up on her meals without drawing too much attention to her absence.
At this particular meal, we had champagne and finger sandwiches as well as chips and salty snacks for the children. Since I’m in the weird limbo between adult and child, I was encouraged to drink champagne and talk politics with the adults and eat cheese puffs and hula hoop with the kids.

Next you have the entrée. When everyone has settled down into their seats at the table, the entrée is presented. Depending on the season and the formality of the meal, the entrée can vary from a soup to a salad to a vegetable or fish dish. The portions are usually half the size of a regular meal (and served on smaller plates) and are the equivalent of what we would call “hors d’oeuvre” (which, despite being a French name, does not exist according to my host family. Do not let google deceive you). The entrée is usually served with a white wine, since it’s a lighter dish, and is eaten with the first fork and knife in your setting (the smaller ones). Again, depending on the formality of the dinner you will have a varied amount of silverware and glasses. There is usually one smaller wine glass used for the aperitif (but that’s disposed of as soon as you’re at the table) and for the white wine, you use the smallest of the three in your place (or two, depending). This is getting confusing, hold on let me try and simplify. If you have three glasses in your setting, the smallest is for white wine, the medium for red and the largest for water. If you have two, the smallest is used for both the white and the red and the largest again for the water (with or without bubbles, you’re choice…but almost always bottled).
For our entrée, we had three scallops set on small nests of cooked leeks and a beet salad lightly tossed in vinaigrette. En plus, we had this shrimp paste thing…I don’t know, that’s the best I can describe it.

After all the dishes are cleared away, you are left with one fork and two knives, occasionally a spoon and always and empty spot soon to be taken up by the largest course. The plat principal, is the third plate of the meal and usually the grandest and richest portion. It always includes about two portions of vegetables (usually potatoes, mashed or not, and a steamed or cooked medley of whatever’s in season) and meat. Red wine is almost always taken with this course and it is eaten with your biggest knife and remaining fork.
For the confirmation, we had lamb as well as a carrot, onions, zucchini and eggplant mixture. We also had puree, better known to Americans as mashed potatoes.

By this time, two hours or so have passed and everyone is starting to feel the bloat of their stomach uncomfortably tight against their clothing. But we’re not done, oh no, there’s still two more courses, and what’s more, the two that rest are my two favorite parts of the meal.

Next is the cheese and salad course. A giant platter of cheese is passed around including specialties of the region as well as the more clichéd types (brie, camembert, etc.). Bread is always a’ plenty and while you cut your fromage with the knife on the platter, you have one last knife specifically for your own use. Red wine is also taken with the cheese.
Sometimes, a light salad with a bit of oil and vinegar is served as well.

Finally, you’ve reached the dessert course which can be anything. Depending on the season and meal, you could have fruit, ice cream, cake, pie, chocolate, macaroons…anything. At this point, you have one spoon left, and it is used for this course. We had a plate of macaroons as well as little fruit tartes.

Finally, with all the courses behind you, conversation has winded down and everyone settles into a comfortable silence with occasional remarks concerning how great the meal was. A few minutes after the plates are cleared, espressos appear for all who wants them as well as tea infusions, on request. Everyone begins to ready themselves to stand up (usually quite a feat) and move into the living room to finish conversation or smoke a cigar.

The longest meal I’ve ever attended was 8 hours long…starting at 8 PM and finishing at 4 the next morning. Generally, meals are around 5-6 hours, but this is really only for big parties or gatherings.

Volia. Anyway, the last few weeks have been flying faster than I ever thought possible. The next few promise to follow in a similar path as my time here winds down. My feelings towards the end of the exchange are every changing, but mainly ineffable. I’m devastated to leave my wonderful new home, but I know I’ll be back. In addition, the call of my own bed and so many familiar faces makes it hard to be completely melancholy about my return. In any case, I recognize that while this adventure is ending, the memories I’ve made will never leave me.
Plus, I’ve got pictures.

Hope all is well and see you all SOON! Bisous,
Kristen

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Hills Were Alive!












+ Some of the best people you'll ever meet (Laura - Kansas, Frida - Sweden, Nina - California, Alex - Candad) in Monaco
+Neens and I with some killer Italian pizza (but shhh, Otown still makes the best)
+My brother has certainly grown
+Romeo and Juliet in Verona
+ Jumping around in Germany
The past few mornings I have woken up to a sad combination of gray skies and uncharacteristic (at least for me) May rain. I usually like the occasionally misty morning as it’s just the thing for curling up with a good book and warm mug of tea, the ideal comforting “me” day. The constant gray makes time seem to stand still as the morning, midday and evening all seem the same; hours disappearing into hours until finally its dinner time and you’re confused as to why you’re still in pajamas. But living in a part of France infamous for unceasing drizzle has unfortunately begun to match the weather to my mood.
For one, the bright colors of last month’s flowers and trees contrasting with the darkened sky seem the perfect metaphor for my past month. I changed host families for the final time April 4th and from that time to this very hour while I’m sitting typing, I’ve been occupied. My new host family is very nice and is another family of six: Sandrine and Norbert (the parents), Mathilde, the oldest girl (fifteen), the twins Charlotte and Edouard (thirteen) and the youngest girl, Alix (ten). They live in a little town outside of Compiegne called Pierrefonds which is famous for its gorgeous and fairy tale-esque medieval castle. The town is spot-on with every clichéd image one can imagine of a small provincial French town and the looming castle overlooking us all adds to the wonderful romance of the place.
Pierrefonds gets quite a bit of tourism due to the castle (and due to the fact that the BBC films their popular ‘Merlin’ series there) and so the town has strict rules on appearance. All houses and stores must remain in good shape as well as remaining true as possible to their mid-century origins. This means that there are not a lot of new buildings and people live in old houses, shops, bars, etc. My new house for example is the old prision!
Barely a week after changing, I took a week off of school for an early vacation. The occasion? After nearly seven and a half months without seeing my family (skype doesn’t count, Zach) they came to visit and spend a week in a Paris apartment with me. I arrived Saturday morning, fresh off the metro and with nervous giggles waiting to explode in the pit of my stomach. After all, it’d been practically a lifetime since I’d seen them. I’ve changed so much and was nervous about showing off what has been my first home away from home in my life. What would my family say upon seeing me? How would the week go? I was even so stressed, I went the opposite direction on accident trying to find rendezvous point and had to rely on a uncharacteristically kind Parisian to help me find my way.
But the week passed well if not too fast with visits around Paris’ lush historical quarters and museums, a visit to Compiegne including meetings with my host families and even a quick day trip to rainy Bruges in Belgium! Before I knew it, I was waving goodbye to them and hello to my next adventure.
The day I left my family was the day I started Rotary’s annual EuroTour. For twelve days, I, along with 47 other Rotary exchange students, visited Germany, Austria, Italy, Monaco, Switzerland and, of course, a bit of France. The trip was ineffable...I don’t even know where to begin. I suppose I shall try to describe, each city visited in one word or phrase, as best as I can:

Paris, France – been there, done that (I’m a shameless French snob), Reims, France – rainy, Strasbourg, France – ice cream on a bridge, Munich, Germany – has nothing on the Louvre (but pleasantly modern none the less), Oberamergau, Germany – quaint Tulfes, Austria – “Can I have noodles with my schnitzel?” along with many obscure Sound of Music references, Verona, Italy – wonderfully sunny, pizza, Venice, Italy – sad and rainy, I had a feeling that years of overflowing boats of tourists had killed the life in the city, Milan, Italy – ate in a mafia restaurant, many angry citizens (most likely because the majority are very hungry, aspiring models), Avignon, France – sur la point d’Avignon on danse, on danse, Geneve, Switzerland – twilight-zone clean, Dijon, France – did not buy mustard...AGAIN.

I met some of the most amazing people ever born and cried like I’m not even sure what at the end of the trip. This brings me to my second point about my weathered mood metaphor...

The day I left all my friends on the bus and said goodbye, I had the impression I was saying goodbye to France itself and a significant chapter of my life that is nearing an end. There rests only a few weeks (alright a significant few, but few none the less) and while I am surely melancholy, I could not be more appreciative of all that I’ve been through, learned and become these past 8 and a half months. France has given me so many opportunities, opened so many doors and I can truly say I don’t know where I’d be without it.

Before I start getting all sentimental, I’ll highlight some upcoming events. Tomorrow (Wednesday), I plan on spending the afternoon in Paris with my good friend Brit from New Jersey. It’s been ages since I saw her (well...a good month at least) and we have a lot to catch up on. Then this weekend is the communion of the twins and so the house will be filled with family and friends. The weekend after that is a Rotary weekend where we’ll meet the kids leaving on exchange next year and share our ~wisdom~. I believe the day after that, if not the weekend after I’ll be going to Disneyland Paris with my friend Victoria. Then there’s another Rotary rendezvous at Park Asterix and an unofficial weekend in Paris with some friends. From now till my departure seems filled with events, so I’m sure by the time I’m on that plane back home I won’t even now where half of the time went.

Well, I think I’ll stop there. I have a bit of a headache and a cold (not the swine flu, Mom, but thanks for your concern) and am trying to battle it the best I can on a busy schedule. I hope everyone is well and as always send you all my love and best wishes!!

Bisous!! Kristen