Category Archives: French customs

France, French customs

Who’s Getting Married in France?

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The posters are up for the Paris wedding fair. I think it’s amusing that it’s being held in Palais Brongniart which I thought was the precinct of the Paris stock exchange. One thing I’ve noticed in recent years is that wedding dresses are looking more and more like evening dresses, showing as much flesh as possible. My wedding dresses (note the plural) are definitely old hat. Not that French women are having weddings much these days, according to the statistics. It’s certainly the case of Black Cat’s friends. I asked her why. It seems that most couples don’t get married because it costs so much. Well, if you’re having your hens’ party in Madrid like one of her friends, I suppose it does!

So what are they doing instead? Well, they’re pacsing. The PACS (pacte civil de solidarité) is an agreement between two adults of the same or different sex to organise their community life. The current form dates from 2005 and is very similar to marriage except for certain rights (entitlement to a percentage of the other person’s retirement after death for example) and the fact that you don’t have to go through a divorce procedure if you want to end the contract. That in itself can be a bonus, but it hardly seems the ideal way to start your life as a couple!

You register the agreement with the court and can even have a ceremony similar to that of a registry marriage. Curiously, it is not same sex couples who are becoming pacsed the most but heterosexual couples. It seems that young people feel perfectly comfortable with just inviting their close friends along to their PACS ceremony but wouldn’t dream of not having all the second cousins and sixth-best friends to their wedding.

I don’t know if anything similar exists in the English-speaking countries.

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French customs, Paris

Spring Windows in the Palais Royal

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It’s grey and miserable outside, even though it’s 13°, but with winter sales starting tomorrow, the spring windows have already appeared. I thought I’d try and cheer myself up by visiting some of the clothing shops in the Palais Royal.

But I was disappointed. Just look at this one. I’m stunned that anyone should choose to dress their window using such ugly mutts. But then I’m not really a dog lover. I used to be. When I was a kid, we had a half-corgi (the other half jumped the fence as my mother used to say) called Taffy whom I adored. I used to take him for long walks after school and talk to him in French. Unfortunately he developed heart worm, which is often the way in the tropics. One afternoon, I came home from uni. My parents were sitting under the honeysuckle trellis in the back yard looking very forlorn. “Taffy has to be put down (what a euphemism!). We’re not up to it so you and DrummerBrother have to take him to the vet.” Oh great! Ever obedient, we carried him sorrowfully to the car. I cried the whole way there and the whole way back. Funny how neither DrummerBrother or I have ever had a pet while ActorBrother (who was probably off catching snakes) has always had a dog …

Well, enough about dogs. I then walked down the other end of the gallery to see what Stella McCartney had to show. I really don’t think her windows are any better. The clothes are not even very attractive. However, I love the effect caused by the reflection of the fences along the Palais Royal. It’s not until you take the photo that you can actually see them. Seriously, would you be tempted to buy that dress on the right? And how come the dummies don’t have heads? The one in the picture above is bald. I don’t think that’s particularly seductive either!

The other window isn’t that much better. I suppose it’s a little more colourful but that’s about all. This isn’t your bottom of the range stuff. We’re looking at 700 euros for a dress and 350 for a pair of trousers. It’s not as bad as Jérôme Huillier admittedly. I didn’t even bother taking photos of their window. It all looks completely synthetic to me. I should console myself with the fact that I’m not tempted to buy anything! Except one of those little black dresses in La Petite Robe Noire, but they’re completely out of my market.

I’ll wait until the sales frenzy dies down before I go and do a bit of shopping somewhere else.

 

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France, French customs

Le Mesnil Jourdain – a little corner of Normandy

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The little village of Le Mesnil Jourdain in Normandy has some wonderful half-timbered houses, both new and old, in addition to the manor house we stayed in over Christmas. Can you tell the old from the new in the ones below?

The oak structure was built first and the holes filled in with wattle-and-daub (upright branches interwoven by smaller branches and covered by a thick coat of clay mud), laths and plaster, or bricks. Nowadays, they are usually renovated with concrete and whitewashed.

The misshapen walls on these old half-timbered buildings are the result of age and not sloppy craftsmenship of course.

This one has a thatched roof. Irises are often planted on a bed of clay along the roof ridge. This is to make sure the ends of the thatch are firmly anchored in place.

From this side, you can tell it’s of recent construction but from the other side, only the regularity of the timbering gives it away.

Once the main building was finished, the towers were added to one end to take the staircase up to the upper floors.

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Food, French customs

Galette des Rois – Kings’ Cake

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When I first came to France, the galette des rois was only celebrated on the feast of the Epiphany, the famous 12th day of Christmas, January 6th, the day on which the three kings reached Bethlehem. Now you see the first galettes at New Year and you can buy them right up until 31st January. A galette is a flat cake and the word is also used to describe buckwheat crêpes.

They are two types of galettes des rois: fourrée and non fourrée, meaning that they contain almond cream or are plain. Leonardo disliked almond cream up until recent years so we always bought the plain one, which caused problems among adepts. I can remember one friend actually buying a second galette when I said I’d bring the galette to her house, just in case I only bought the plain sort! Our friendship was short-lived.

The quality of the galette depends on the bakery or pâtisserie you buy it from. It’s basically flaky pastry with a thick pasty almond cream (called “frangipane“) containing a fève or broad bean and is sold with a cardboard crown. Today, the fève is a small plaster or porcelain figurine that can represent anything from a traditional baker to a Disney character. The crowns can be anything from a basic gold affair to something more elaborate and colourful. Usually the more expensive the galette, the more original the fève and crown will be. When the kids were little, they used to make their own.

Traditionally, the youngest child gets under the table. The galette is cut into as many pieces as there are guests. The person under the table then indicates who should get each piece. This was Black Cat’s prerogative before I met Relationnel. After that, it was Thoughtful, as the second twin to be born, who would go under the table. This year, we had our first galette (a little early) with my Australian cousin who is a few months younger. When Brainy Pianist comes back from holidays, it will be his turn. It’s very amusing to see these tall teenagers disappearing under the table!

Whoever gets the fève then chooses a king or queen. When the galette is shared among friends, the person with the fève has to buy the next galette so you can see why it could go on forever. The galette is better when you can warm it in the oven. I’ve tried making my own, but flaky pastry is a tedious affair and even if you buy the pastry ready made, I still prefer the almond paste in the ones from the bakery.

Sharing a galette des rois is popularly known as tirer les rois, where tirer means to draw stakes. We usually accompany it with apple juice and cider but that may just be our own tradition.

Food, France, French customs, Paris

Holly and Mistletoe

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I know it’s supposed to be holly and ivy though I don’t know why because most of the ivy – well, the Viriginia creeper anyway – loses its leaves around here in winter. Our holly and mistletoe come from Normandy. We had a lot of problems finding holly with red berries this time but the mistletoe, which is a parasite of course, had grown lower on the apple trees so Relationnel didn’t have to stretch his arms as much!

Photo by Black Cat

When I was a child, we used to buy real holly (houx) from David Jones at Christmas time but I’d never seen mistletoe (gui) until I came to France and discovered that it grows in large bunches that are particularly obvious when the host tree loses its leaves.

The only problem with mistletoe is that its sticky little white berries keep falling off so I’m keeping the New Year branch we’re supposed to kiss under in a bag until the day. Relationnel is on call this year so we won’t be able to join the throngs on New Year’s Eve on the Pont des Arts which has a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower which shimmers and shakes at midnight. We can actually see it from our window but last year low cloud obscured it, which was very sad. I had to use my watch to check the time.

 

I’m starting to think about our New Year’s Eve feast for two, particularly as it could be interrupted any time if Relationnel is called out. One year we made this terribly complicated capon dish that I got out of “Simply French” by Patricia Wells, but considering the hours it took to make, I found the result very disappointing. So now I make much simpler recipes such as pan-fried foie gras and verrines with lots of interesting bits and pieces that I can vary according to whim and the ingredients I have at home. Far more satisfying.

Verrines – from verre meaning glass and modelled on the word terrine which comes from terre or clay – are shot glasses in various shapes and sizes that have become very popular in France over the last few years for serving individual starters and desserts. I love making them because you can be very inventive and they can be prepared ahead of time. The idea is to have different layers and colours so that they look attractive from the outside.

At Christmas we had two verrines for starters: slices of sea scallops alternating with beds of leeks and eggplant purée topped with ricotta and walnuts; and two for dessert: pannacotta on a layer of coffee jelly topped with crumbled brown sugar biscuits from Belgium called speculoos and slightly cooked pear pieces alternating with fromage blanc and candied ginger. Since I had only taken along two sets of verrines, I used ordinary glasses for the desserts.

Now I wonder what I’ll put in them this year?

Australia, Family, Food, French customs, Wine

No Boxing Day in France

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Unfortunately, there is no Boxing Day in France. We had to pack up everything in Normandy and leave last night which was very sad. I couldn’t believe how much stuff we’d acquired in just over a week! There were all the Christmas decorations for the tree and crib and table of course plus the holly from the forest and mistletoe from the apple trees. But we also went to two other dépôt vente places and came away with all sorts of wonderful things for the new house in Blois, including a lovely old 5-branch ceiling light that Relationnel managed to drop when putting it into the car for the return journey – fortunately it didn’t shatter and the crack shouldn’t be too noticeable when it’s attached to the ceiling. We didn’t buy the Australian guitar or the aggressive GI!

When we got home to our apartment in Paris,  it all had to be unpacked of course which was complicated by the fact that the bedroom ceiling had been repainted during our absence. A few months ago, large drops of water suddenly started to appear on the ceiling above the bed. Apparently, the gutters on the terrace of the flat above us were blocked up. By the time they were unblocked, the paint was peeling off in large flakes. So all the bedroom furniture was in the lounge and we couldn’t put it back until we got the curtains back from the dry cleaners today.

Gathering holly

To console ourselves, we finished off our home made foie gras that turned out to be the best we’ve made yet (must have been because I dropped the iPhone in it during the process) accompanied by the delicious compote de fruits vieux garçon (bachelor’s fruit compote) we made on Saturday (recipe below – requires expertise in making caramel which I do not have but that fortunately Relationnel does) and the rest of the Pierre Adam Kaefferdopf gewurztraminer 2006. There were even a few slices of pain brioché au miel left to go with it.  Followed by smoked salmon, lychees and Rozan chocolates with our coffee. A nice way to end off Christmas day.

My scales told me this morning that we’ll be eating grilled fish and chicken and steamed vegetables for the rest of the week … in preparation for New Year!

Compote de fruits vieux garçon 
 
Ingredients : 1 apple, 1 pear, 6 dried abricots, 6 prunes, 6 cl of port wine, 80 g of honey. 
 
Peel the apple and pear and cut them into 1 cm squares. Chop the dried fruit into 5 mm pieces and soak in the port wine. The recipe doesn’t say for how long but it was probably about 20 to 30 minutes because I was using the only large saucepan for something else. 
Put the honey in a large saucepan and caramelise. You have to use fairly high heat. Quite suddenly, it all froths up and this is where the expertise comes in. If you cook it too much it burns. The trick is to squeeze in some lemon juice at just the right moment to reduce the heat and stop the caramelising process. I did the squeezing. Relationnel said when. 
Then you add the apple and pear and cook for 3 minutes followed by the dried fruit and port. You let them stew for at least 20 minutes at moderate heat, stirring often to prevent sticking. 
You can keep it for a week in the fridge.
Australia, Croatia, Family, France, French customs, Slovenia

Christmas Tree’s Up!

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When I was a child in Townsville, our Christmas tree was an athel pine. Well, I think it was anyway. You certainly couldn’t buy fir trees or go out and cut them down in the forest as Relationnel and his father did when he was little. After a while, my mother got sick of all the mess from the athel pine and decided, to our great dismay, to buy an awful looking imitation tree. It was also tiny.

So when I had my own children in France, we used to buy a real fir tree until the first year I spent Christmas on my own after my divorce. I had decided not to have a tree that year but felt so miserable on Christmas Eve without my kids or a tree that I went to the local hypermarket and bought a pretend one. These days, they are far more realistic than the one Mum bought. Black Cat and Leonard were not impressed though.

When we started coming to Le Mesnil Jourdain for Christmas, there were no more excuses for not buying the real thing. First, there is always a vendor in Louviers, second, they sell Nordman trees that don’t lose their needles and third, there is plenty of room for a big one. Last year, it snowed so much that we nearly missed out because we were housebound for two days. By the time we got back to Louviers, the vendor had packed up and gone. Fortunately the flower shop in the main street still had some left. This year, it was the first thing we did when we got here. I love the system. First, you choose your tree, then they put it through a Christmas tree packaging machine and it comes out the other end in netting so that it’s easier to transport.

Black Cat is coming this afternoon so we’ll decorate the tree together. The male element (as my father used to say) likes the idea of the tree but are not even remotely interested in decorating it. All our decorations have a story, starting with the oldest, two little Chinese lanterns a friend brought back from Hong Kong when I was in high school and that I kept safely until I had my own tree. Several of the decorations were made by Leonardo who is an origami expert and one by Forge Ahead when he was little. All the others come from our travels.

We try to bring back something for the tree from each place we visit. We began in Rottenburg in Germany after we discovered the wonderful Käthe Wohlfahrt Christmas store. I could have bought the whole shop! The decorations are absolutely fabulous. Our latest acquisitions are a flamenco shoe from Seville, a traditional heart from Croatia, a pendant key ring from Bosnia Herzogovina and a violin from Innsbruck in Austria. We seem to have forgotten about Slovenia! Black Cat also adds to the collection whenever she can. This year she brought us back a lovely hand-painted bauble from Sweden. Friends who know about it contribute as well – we now have a little plaque depicting the French quarter in New Orleans.

My favourites are two baubles from the decorative arts museum next to the Louvre, the one Black Cat brought back from Saint Paul’s in London, the beautiful ruched egg a friend made me, Leonardo’s origami unicorn, Thoughtful’s king on a reindeer and the crib inside a glass bauble.

 

 

 

It’s a good thing we’ve bought a house of our own in Blois – we’ll need a truck to transport everything soon!

Food, France, French customs

A Country Market in Normandy

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We always go to the market in Le Neubourg in Normandy on the Wednesday before Christmas. Definitely not a tourist venue, but it’s a real country market with lots of little old ladies selling what they can spare from their gardens, such as chestnuts, eggs, leeks, carrots and even holly with red berries (that’s why I can’t find any in the forests – they’ve taken it all). There are vendors you only find on local markets selling blouses (a sort of house coat that country housewives of the older generation still wear over their regular clothing), charentaises (those awful checked carpet slippers), rubber boots (because it rains so much), flannel nightdresses buttoned up to the neck, handkerchiefs and other things you can’t buy in Monoprix any more.

Then there are the local specialities such as onion-flavoured black pudding from the charcuterie and Norman high-fat cheeses such as the well-known round camembert, the square-shaped pont l’évèque, the heart-shaped neufchatel, the strong-smelling livarot that I won’t let Relationnel buy any more and the very delicious excessively creamy brillat-savarin that I don’t let myself buy because of how quickly it seems to disappear!

We also like to buy our favourite “spéciales” oysters from Normandy but this year, for some unknown reason, there wasn’t a single oyster vendor on the whole market! So instead we bought 4 kilos of coquilles Saint Jacques (the large sea scallops they fish off the Norman coast which I love), a real bargain at 22 euros! They opened them all in record time, joking among themselves the whole time, despite the cold and steady drizzle! Last year, they were just as cheery in the snow.

There isn’t only food and little old ladies’ clothing of course. You can buy the latest fashion, including jeans and demin jackets, stretch pants and boots and these gorgeous little hats! I tried a couple on in the hope of keeping my ears warm without having to wear my hood all the time but I look absolutely ghastly, not anything like these cut little models!

But what I like best is the live poultry. An amazing variety of hens and ducks (including wild mallards), capons, turkeys, guinea fowl and geese. I felt rather sorry for them, knowing that they’d soon be in the pot, particularly since we’ll be having côte de boeuf cooked in the open hearth! I won’t mention the foie gras …

Accommodation, Family, Food, France, French customs, Restaurants

Rouen in the Rain

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Le Mesnil Jourdain with Le Logis du Porche & church

One of the sad things about Normandy is that it rains a lot. For the last four years, we’ve had snow at Christmas with particularly heavy falls last year. This year, however, it’s not cold enough so we’ve got rain instead.

This is the fifth Christmas we’ve spent in this lovely mediaeval manor house in Le Mesnil Jourdain. The main buildings form an L-shape. “Our” house, Le Logis du Porche, was built in the 15th century while the owners, Valérie and Marc Jonquez, live in the 16th century wing. Le Logis de la Garenne on the other side of the courtyard was built during the reign of Louis XIII in the 17th century up against a mediaeval motte. That, in case you don’t know, is the artificial mound on which theNormans used to build their keeps. Today it’s home to a herd of goats. There is a beautiful vaulted ceiling on the ground floor.

16C wing

But we prefer the Logis du Porche for its huge brick fireplace, large bay window with its original grille and stone seats where the ladies used to sit with their embroidery and watch the world go by in the courtyard below, its original timbered ceiling and lovely oak panelled door. The stone walls are as thick as the length of your arm and there’s even an arrow slit! That’s on the main floor. Upstairs, one of the bedrooms has a massive low timber door with a peak hole and traces of oil lamps on the walls while one of the others has an enormous fireplace where they used to hang the meat and an original mullion window.

La Garenne

Valérie et Marc have done a wonderful job of restoring and decorating both houses, combining modern comfort with the historical charm and authenticity we love.  It was Le Mesnil Jourdain that inspired us to buy the house in Blois. Our four children usually join us for Christmas, but this year, with Leonardo in Sydney and Forge Ahead in Madagascar, there will only be four of us. We’re waiting until Black Cat arrives to decorate the tree and put up the crib. But more of that in another post.

Joan of Arc's tears

Back to rainy Rouen. One of our pilgrimages is always to Auzou’s in the main street where they sell Joan of Arc’s tears – chocolate-coated almonds! I actually prefer Rozans des Pyrénées, melt-in-the-mouth chocolates that traditionally are only made in the Pyrenees in winter and that you can only usually find at Christmas. You have to keep them in the fridge. But the other members of the family prefer praline chocolates except for Black Cat who has never liked chocolates. When she was growing up in a country of chocolate freaks, she was so embarrassed about it that she used to tell everyone that “my mother won’t let me eat chocolates.”

Rouen cathedral with Christmas market

I like doing our Christmas shopping in Rouen because the historical centre is very attractive with its half-timbered houses and enormous clock tower spanning the main street. The cathedral, made famous by Monet, is always worth a visit as well. We usually have lunch at the art deco Brasserie Paul on one side of the cathedral. It’s in all the guide books so it very popular, but we still enjoy it. At 14 or 15 euros for the main dish, it’s also good value for money. It also sells real cappuccino (as opposed to the usual Norman “all-cream” version if you prefer a mid-morning or mid-afternoon break instead. Maybe next time, it won’t be raining!

Le Mesnil Jourdain
Valérie et Marc JONCQUEZ
5 rue de l’église
27400 LE MESNIL JOURDAIN
v.joncquez@gmail.com
http://www.rent-gite-normandie.com/
 
 
Brasserie Paul
1 place de la Cathédrale
76000 Rouen
http://www.brasserie-paul.com/index.php
 
 
Chocolateire Auzou
163, rue du Gros Horloge
76000 Rouen
France
 
Australian customs, French customs

Santa Climbing up the Wall

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I love the Christmas decorations on individual homes in the French countryside. It’s amazing how many Santa Clauses (père noël) you see climbing up the walls! I don’t know how they explain it to the kids. Apart from the Father Christmas in David Jones, I don’t remember ever seeing any others. We would dutifully leave out our milk and biscuits and I even went to sleep on the floor of my parents’ room once because I’d left something off my wish list but I didn’t get to see him after all.

My mother used to play Santa Claus for my youngest brother on Christmas Day. Dad certainly wouldn’t have done anything as undignified! She wore a pair of men’s pyjamas that she’d dyed red and ho! ho! hoed! around. She realised it was time to stop though when my brother whispered to her “Mum, your fly’s undone!”

In his sleigh this time

Leonardo came home from school when he was in first grade and said, “You know, the teacher and I are the only ones who believe in Santa Claus. Pity for the others!” He thought it was like god – there were believers and non-believers and obviously the stakes were much higher for Father Christmas.

I didn’t perpetrate the photo with Santa Claus tradition for my children though I do have one taken in Townsville one time we were in Australia for Christmas but I love getting the ones from my brother with his three little boys.

I don’t know how they explain this one – if you look closely, you’ll see two Santa Clauses! Maybe it’s a race.

And I think the next photo is the best of them all. This time, Père Noël is climbing up the town hall in Port Mort (Dead Port!). I’ve been trying to imagine what sort of presents the town councillors are expecting! May a new name for the town.