Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Walking in History

I often think about the importance of connections in France, from relationships established with the pharmacist, butcher, cheese monger and plumber (very important, that one!) to time invested in personal friendships.  There is another, no less vital connection for me, and that is a visceral attachment to the city of Paris itself.  A walk in the streets of Paris is energizing, soul-sustaining and gut-wrenchingly beautiful, a stroll through several centuries in parallel.

There is no bad time to walk in Paris, but I especially appreciate my morning walk to work through the Marais. Parisians are not morning people.  Shops do not open before 9, and often not until 10. At 8:30, the street cleaners are out, spraying the streets. The odd harried parent hurries a small child to school, but for the most part, the small side streets are, if not empty, at least calm, and I enjoy the morning coolness.

I pass Nicolas Flamel’s house, built in 1407. Nicolas Flamel may not have achieved mortality through alchemy, but he lives on in literature, in Victor Hugo’s Notre Dame de Paris, the French title for the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and in J.K. Rowlings’ Harry Potter books.  His is the oldest stone house in Paris, the newly restored inscription on the Gothic façade reads: "Nous homes et femes laboureurs demourans ou porche de ceste maison qui fut faite en l'an de grâce mil quatre cens et sept somes tenus chascun en droit soy dire tous les jours une paternostre et un ave maria en priant Dieu que sa grâce face pardon aus povres pescheurs trespasses Amen". (We plowmen and women living in the hall of this house, built in the year of grace 1407, accept the obligation to say one Paternoster and one Ave Maria each day, praying God to grant his grace to poor dead sinners. Amen.)

As I cross the rue Beaubourg, Hugo comes to mind again as I glance right for my morning glimpse of the freshly cleaned towers of Notre Dame.  To my left is the Musée des Arts et Métiers, the Museum of Arts and Industry, partially housed in the old Priory of the Saint Martin in the Fields Abbey, dating from the XIIth century, and incorporated into the city in the XIVth century.  The church was deconsecrated after the Revolution and now houses Foucault’s pendulum and a collection of early airplanes and automobiles.     

As I wind my way through the side streets, delivery men wheel their diables, two-wheeled dollies, loaded with boxes for the leather goods stores and articles for the notions trade – hair clips, buttons, hats and scarves.  Metal security blinds clatter up and storefronts begin to open.  I glance at plaques commemorating World War II Resistance groups, those fallen during the street fighting of the Liberation of Paris in August 1944, and on each school, a plaque commemorating Jewish schoolchildren deported during the war under the Vichy government. 

My twisting 20 minute walk to work leads me past several stately hôtels particuliers, 17th century mansions, many of which fell into disrepair after the nobility left the area for Versailles in the 18th century, only to become factories and print shops in the 19th and early 20th centuries when the area was home to the latest wave of Jewish immigrants.  Many of these grand residences have been restored and now house museums, such as the Musée Carnavalet, the Paris History Museum, 17th century home of the letter-writing Madame de Sévigné, and the more recent Museum of Jewish Art and History.

http://patrick.margerand.pagesperso-orange.fr/
Pinet/F-postal/Sculpsit/cartsclp.htm
I like to walk down the short rue de Braque from rue du Temple to rue des Archives.  As I turn into the street I catch sight of the 14th century corbelled turrets of the Hôtel de Soubise, built on a site previously owned by the Knights Templar, which currently houses the National Archives where you encounter documents such as an early 9th century land deed signed by Charlemagne.

The Hôtel de Soubise is an arresting sight in itself, since there are only a few examples of medieval architecture in Paris.  The turrets flank a painted entry door, the Porte de Clisson, which dates from 1380.  What catches my attention, however, as I advance down the street is the improbable juxtaposition of the 14th century turrets with the gracious statuary of the main façade, remodeled in the 18th century, and tacked onto the earlier mansion.  From my angle, the unlikely elegant form of a woman juts out from the turret, a rather frightening creature about to take flight. 

With the stories of centuries swirling in my mind, I pause for a café crème at a corner café before heading off to work at the site of the former La Force Prison, accompanied again by Victor Hugo who was known to visit his friend, the song writer Pierre-Jean de Béranger, imprisoned for his writings against Charles X.


Nicolas Flamel’s house, 51 rue Montmorency, 3rd, M: Rambuteau
Musée des Arts et Métiers, 60 rue Réaumur, 3rd,  M: Arts et Métiers, Closed Monday.
http://www.arts-et-metiers.net/
Musée Carnavalet, 23 rue de Sévigné, 3rd, M: St. Paul, http://carnavalet.paris.fr/
            Closed Monday. Free entry.
Musée d’Art et d’Histoire du Judaïsme, Hôtel de Saint-Aignan, 71 rue du Temple, 3rd,
M: Rambuteau, www.mahj.org, Closed Saturday.
Hôtel de Soubise, 60 rue des Franc Bourgeois, 3rd, M: Hôtel de Ville or St. Paul
            Clisson Entrance, corner of rue des Archives and rue de Brague, 3rd,
M: Rambuteau. Closed Tuesday.


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Skipping through History on rue Montorgueil
© 2011 Isabelle Vianu

Walking Tours
The above is just a sliver of historical sites that you’ll encounter in any area of Paris.  If you’d like to participate in a walking tour, I recommend Paris Walks.  Oriel Caine organizes walks of the major neighborhoods in Paris, as well as art, fashion and food walks.  You can sign up for one of the public walks, or organize a private walk for a small group.  Iris Grossman Spencer is my favorite guide.  

Paris Walks, www.paris-walks.com

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Classical Paris
- If you’re interested in Gallo-Roman Paris, the French Cultural Ministry has put together
this walk through the Latin Quarter.
- Archeological Crypt at Notre Dame, Parvis de Notre Dame, crypte.paris.fr,
Closed Monday.
- Arènes de Lutèce Arena, a first century Roman arena, 47 rue Monge, 5th, M: Monge
(exit at the back of the metro)
- Musée de Cluny Musee National du Moyen Age, 6 rue Paul Painlevé, 5th,
M: Cluny-La Sorbonne, Closed Tuesday.  Roman Baths.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Paris Chocolate

Marché aux Chocolats, Paris 
© 2005 Victor Vianu
Chocolate is a traditional end of the year gift in France. No holiday meal ends without the presentation of a coffret of chocolates.  Robert Linxe, master chocolatier and founder of La Maison du Chocolat, was instrumental in releasing chocolate from the confines of the Christmas and Easter seasons.  Thanks to him, we now have access to the most exquisite chocolates year round. Now that the excesses of the holidays are behind us and our New Year’s resolutions are beginning to get a little fuzzy around the edges, it’s time to explore the pleasures of fine ganache and praliné and perhaps indulge in a few truffes.

The chocolates of Robert Linxe are truly among the finest in France and are worth seeking out at one of his Paris boutiques.  Chocolate appreciation classes are held intermittently at the François I shop.  The Parcours Initiatique tasting and discovery seminars are a treat.  I attended one course in which one of their cakes was deconstructed and each element presented – the genoise sponge cake, the mousse filling, the ganache.  It was magical.  My husband and I attended another course on serving chocolate with wine and tea.  We were most enamored with the pairing of the Maison du Chocolat’s Rigoletto and a glass of Toro Alba Don Pedro Ximenez Gran Riserva 1985.  My chocolate tastes run firmly to all noir, all ganache, but I was seduced by this combination of airy caramel mousse encased in a fine layer of milk chocolate and the sweet caramel notes of the Spanish sherry. 

The Maison du Chocolat offers cakes and pastries as well.  The Entremets Salvador with its layers of raspberry purée, cake and chocolate mousse is one of my favorites, along with the macaron au caramel au beurre salé, an addition to the enduring craze of all things salty caramel.  In the winter, you can enjoy several crus of hot chocolate and in the summer, several different takes on chocolate ice cream and sorbet.

You can find Maison du Chocolat in New York, London, Tokyo and Hong Kong, but in order to maintain quality control over these delicate chocolates, they are all manufactured in France and shipped overnight to their destinations.  However, I find that the freshness of the chocolates is not the same in New York as at the Paris boutiques.  Furthermore, I have not been totally satisfied with the freshness of the chocolates at the smaller Louvre boutique, or the airport where the chocolates are all pre-packaged.  To benefit from the full sensory experience, select your own chocolates at one of the Paris boutiques below.

La Maison du Chocolat, www.lamaisonduchocolat.com
The Paris boutiques are open Monday to Saturday, from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.,
and Sunday from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.
            -  52 rue François 1er, 8th, M: FDR, Tel. 01 47 23 38 25
- 8 blvd de la Madeleine, 9th, M: Madeleine, Tel. 01 47 42 86 52
(Closed on Sunday).
You can pick up a bottle of the Don PX Gran Riserva at the Lavinia shop just across the street at #3.
            - 19 ave de Sèvres, 6th, M: Sèvres-Babylone, Tel. 01 45 44 20 40.
            Near the Bon Marché’s Grande Epicerie
            - 120 ave Victor Hugo, 16th, M: Victor Hugo, Tel. 01 40 67 77 83

Marché aux Chocolats, Paris 
© 2005 Victor Vianu
 While La Maison du Chocolat may be the summit of le chocolat français, it’s not what I, or your budget, would call an everyday chocolate. The Comptoir du Cacao makes an original confection of flaky praline squares with either hazelnut, pistachio, salty caramel, raspberry or banana.  These chocolates have a homemade feel to them and are priced very reasonably for the quality. I have found their little wooden crates to be the perfect gift for friends and family who enjoy chocolate but do not appreciate the subtleties of more refined French chocolates.  While these chocolates are sold at the Grande Epicerie in Paris, and now at Zabar’s in New York, you’ll find peak freshness and flavor at the boutique. 
            Comptoir du Cacao 
194 ave de Versailles, 16th,
M: Porte de St. Cloud,
Tel. 01 42 24 09 58,
Tuesday to Saturday,  10:30 a.m. to 7 p.m.,
Sundays, 10:30 a.m. to 1 p.m.


Chocolat Chapon is a regular at the annual Salon du Chocolat, held in Paris every year the last weekend in October. Patrice Chapon offers lovely liquid caramel filled chocolate disks, ganache-filled chocolates covered with a sea salt-flavored praline, strong black tea ganache, and almond paste-based delicacies. Both stores also have chocolate mousse bars where you can fill a 400g carton with one of four different mousses.
Chocolat Chapon, www.chocolat-chapon.com
- 69 rue du Bac, 7th, Tel. 42 22 95 98.
Tuesday to Saturday, 10:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m.
- 52 ave Mozart, 16th, M: Ranelagh, Tel. 01 42 24 05 05.
            Tuesday to Friday, 10 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. and 2:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m.,
            Saturday, 10 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., Sunday 10:30 p.m. to 1 p.m.

Marché aux Chocolats, Paris 
© 2005 Victor Vianu
Charles Chocolatier makes chocolats à l’ancienne.  As there is no cream or butter in their products, all of their filled chocolates are pralinés.  These are chocolates for purists.  Favorites are the mendiants, chocolate disks topped with caramelized almonds, pistachios and dried fruits, the diamants noirs, bûches à l'ancienne – a fine praliné studded with nuts and rolled into a log to be served in thin slices, and chocolate covered cherries.  
Charles Chocolatier,  
www.charles-chocolatier.fr
15 rue Montorgueil, 1st, Tel. 01 45 08 57 77.
Tuesday-Saturday, 10 a.m. to 7:45 p.m.

Le Furet-Tanrade, off the beaten track in the 10th arrondissement specializes in chocolate and fruit flavored jams (chocolate-pear, orange, banana, raspberry, etc.). The cubes of rose petal fruit paste flecked with bits of cocoa nibs are a revelation and Alain Furet’s chocolate éclairs have a loyal following.  
Le Furet-Tanrade, www.lefuret-tanrade.fr 
63 rue Chabrol, 10th, M: Gare de l’Est, Tel. 01 47 70 48 34.

While I do bring chocolates back to San Diego, they are quite perishable.  To tide us over between trips, I  travel with 6 kg. of Guanaja Valrhona Chocolate, the brand traditionally used by Robert Linxe, purchased at G. Detou.  3 kilogram packages of Valrhona chocolate sell for approximately 40€ (less than $10/lb.) and this keeps us in Gâteau au Chocolat for some months at least (see recipe on separate page above right).
G. Detou, a play on words (‘J’ai de tout’ means 'I have a bit of everything') lives up to its name and you can find here many baking-related ingredients such as candied violets, as well as chocolates, roasted cocoa nibs, candied chestnuts, and teas among other things.
            G. Detou
58 rue de Tiquetonne, 2nd, Tel. 01 42 36 54 57.
            Open Monday to Saturday, 8:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.

Valrhona Chocolates www.valrhona.com


Marché aux Chocolats, Paris 
© 2005 Victor Vianu
Chocolate Vocabulary

le chocolat noir/au lait/blanc – dark/milk/white chocolate
un ballotin – a box
un coffret – a decorative box
un sachet – a small plastic bag or sachet. If you want a small sample of chocolates rather than investing in a coffret or ballotin, just ask for a plastic sachet of 100 –200 grams of chocolates that you select. 
une ganache – a smooth mixture of chocolate and butter and/or cream
le  praliné – paste made of ground caramelized or toasted nuts, often hazelnuts or almonds, and mixed with chocolate.
le cru – denotes the origin of the cocoa bean.  The most well-known cocoa crus are from Venezuela (Chuao), the Antilles (Le Trinité), Africa (Côte d’Ivoire), Asia (Ceylan).


Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Terroir: from ‘taste of place’ to Thiercelin’s place for taste


My preferred means of engagement with the world are language and food so it’s no wonder that France holds such appeal for me. French cuisine and the land are inextricably connected in the word terroirTerroir, often translated as ‘taste of place’ refers to the way the various unique aspects of an environment contribute to a finished product.  Terroir honors both the land – a defined geographical area with perhaps a characteristic chalkiness of the soil, a particular microclimate, a certain humidity or salinity of the air – and the artisan’s traditional savoir-faire.  It reflects the value placed on the marriage of longstanding, meticulous local practices and the local environment. (On a practical level, this attachment to local place and practice is also, of course, an excellent marketing tool.) 

The concept of terroir gained currency a century ago with the French wine labeling system, the Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, or AOC which is an indication of geographical origin, but also of traditional cultivation and production practices specific to a wine.  The AOC system has branched out to other food markets, to include cheeses (Camembert de Normandie, Brie de Meaux and its smaller and lesser known cousin, Brie de Melun), chicken (Poulet de Bresse), lentils (Lentilles du Puy) and even food for food, Foin de Crau (hay from the Crau Plain in Southeastern France).  Since the geographical location is of primal importance, the AOC name always includes the place name.    

There is great respect in France for quality in food and something of a mythology around the purity of the basic ingredients and the process by which they are transformed, a process that exists in the context of something greater than itself, local culture, history, identity.  The right grape for the locale is not sufficient.  In order to make great wine, you also need technique.  The mastery that results from this devotion to the geography and traditional craft of a given terroir is still revered.   

Associated with exotic, far-off lands, the spice merchant occupies a unique place in French culinary traditions, firmly inscribed in the French tradition of excellence, simplicity and purity. Spices cannot stand alone, but they are an essential element of a whole.  Enter my favorite spice merchant, Jean-Marc Thiercelin.
The colorful Kingdom of Goumanyat, located in a calm section of Paris’ hip Marais district, is a world dedicated to scents and rare flavors. The old-fashioned wooden drawers lining the walls of this spice shop and the large beakers filled with spices to be swirled and sniffed, much as wine at a tasting, give it the allure of an apothecary.  Thiercelin has considerably widened the family business’ initial focus on saffron to include a panoply of spices, reflected in the name of the shop, a play on the words for taste, “goût”, and mania. His stash of Indian curios and Venetian masks, also for sale, evokes the exoticism of spice merchants of old. Quality, careful selection and attention to detail are the hallmarks of Goumanyat.
Monsieur Thiercelin will gladly share his knowledge and answer any questions you might have about his spices. He provides flyers describing the origins, characteristics and uses of different spices, including tempting recipes. One unique offering is the vast array of true and false peppercorns he proposes. It was here that I was introduced to “long” pepper, the most prized pepper in Europe in the Middle Ages. Mr. Thiercelin offers pepper mixtures such as the classic 5-pepper blend in addition to more esoteric ones such as the “Four Ages of Pepper” and, in a nod to Stendhal, “Le Rouge et Le Noir”. The first is in homage to the four stages in the life of a pepper, from the youthful green pepper, to the fragrant Muntoc and Malabar white peppers whose skins have been removed, and the more mature and potent dried Sarawak and Kerala black peppers. “The Red and the Black”, which exudes an overall spiciness rather than strong peppery flavor, is a mixture of aromatic black Tasmanian pepper, flowery pink peppercorns and heat-packing red Pondicherry pepper.
Goumanyat is also an excellent source for so-called false peppers, such as the fiery Sichuan, the fragrant Cubeb, and my current favorite Nepalese Timur, Poivre Timut du Népal. The Timut is a flavor sensation, a recognizable relative to Sichuan pepper, but with a zingy citrus sizzle and refreshing fragrance.
Mr. Thiercelin also creates spice mixtures in collaboration with well-known chefs for use in their restaurants.  After a period of exclusivity to the chefs, these blends are released for sale to the public.  My favorites are the Mélange Phénicien, a blend of oregano, mint, and toasted sesame seeds, and “1001 Nuits” with its dried rose petals, a mixture that Scheherazade of the Arabian Nights would surely have endorsed. Other items I stock up on are Thiercelin’s unparalleled wild fennel seed, the smoky, multidimensional smoked Spanish chili pepper, Piment Doux Fumé, reminiscent of smoked Hungarian paprika, tiny dried morels, powdered bourbon vanilla and the exotically scented almond-shaped Tonka bean, which exudes a heady perfume akin to crystallized vanilla. 
As with the AOC system, Monsieur Thiercelin highlights the geographical origin of his spices and seeks out superlative quality. Thiercelin’s terroir is global and he brings it all home to his place, for us to taste.  

Mysterious Spice Drawers © 2005 Victor Vianu
Window Shopping at Goumanyat © 2005 Victor Vianu
King Saffron © 2005 Victor Vianu
 
Goumanyat, 3 rue Charles-François Dupuis, 3rd, M: Temple/République
Tel. 01 44 78 96 74. Open Tuesday-Saturday, 11am-7pm.   
Spices and other products are available for order on line at www.goumanyat.com or www.thiercelin.com. Facebook: Thiercelin 1809.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Between the Pear and the Cheese


Everything I love about France - its language, culture and of course, cuisine - comes together at the table.  The best of all dinners is a delicious intermingling of intriguing tastes and wordplay, tales, history and dissent. There is a fine balance between food and conversation, the senses and the mind, neither of which should overwhelm nor inhibit the other.  At a French dinner, which might last four to five hours, there is room for both, parallel trajectories of gustatory and intellectual stimulation with complementary peaks and plateaus.  

There is room for all of this because there is time, time for the ‘long version’, time to explore themes, time to circle back and make connections. As Adam Gopnik notes in his book The Table Comes First: Family, France and the Meaning of Food, “The French meal itself is a commitment to time, and to conversation … [and] to a coherent set of values.”

In November 2010, UNESCO designated the French gastronomic meal, with its various courses, rites and presentation, a ‘world intangible heritage’.  While many of my French friends might scoff at UNESCO’s description of this ‘social custom aimed at celebrating the most important moments in the lives of individuals and groups’, they still adhere, perhaps unconsciously, to a customary, if not prescribed, protocol to a French dinner.

L’apéritif
Drinks open the evening, usually served in the living room, or salon.  Typical apéritifs are a Kir (crème de cassis and white wine), or a Kir Royal (crème de cassis with Champagne or sparkling wine), pastis in the summer, whiskey, or champagne.  The opening act of the evening generally does not dazzle in the culinary sense.  A French friend explained to me that l’apéritif traditionally includes a soggy potato chip or two and some wrinkled olives so you don’t risk ruining your appetite before the meal.  Talk is light and concrete as guests get acquainted or caught up. What art shows or movies have you seen? What are you reading?  The cook is in the kitchen or running back and forth. 

Le passage à table
Often the host or hostess will invite, with a question, “On passe à table?” (Let’s go to the table?).  Conversation subsides as everyone is seated, and more often than not, placed, at the table, and the first course, or entrée, is brought out. Discussion slowly picks up again over the main course, or plat. Note that Americans have appropriated the French word for the first course, or entry to the meal, to mean the main dish.   

My favorite moment in a French dinner is when the guests have found their conversational comfort level.  This is often at some point during the main course.  The wine has been flowing for some time, inhibitions are loosened and the conversation becomes more spirited with verbal sparring and animated discussions that in some cultures might pass for heated arguments. If I am the hostess, this is the time that I can join the conversation fully.  The cheese plate, salad and vinaigrette have been prepared (that is, if I haven't forgotten the salad) and the dessert is waiting in the kitchen.

This is the moment known as 'entre la poire et le fromage', or between the pear and the cheese.  Although today it would be between the cheese and the dessert, in the 17th century, dessert was not served as a course, water was not served with the meal, and a pear (or an apple) was served as a palate cleanser before the cheese which concluded the meal.  The modern palate cleanser would be the salad (unless it remains in the fridge). This also happens to coincide with the aforementioned wine-induced tongue loosening. Entre la poire et le fromage signals a moment in time, a space in a French meal that invites a certain type of conversation, a switching of gears. The guests by this time have spent several hours together, the general mood is well-fed and convivial, a good environment for discussion and a potentially deeper connection.

Le retour au salon
After the cheese and dessert, there is often another shift in the conversation with a suggestion to move back to the comfort of the salon (On passe au salon?) which may be the other half of the living room, to relax in armchairs and sofas, to continue the conversation over a café, infusion (herbal tea) or a digestif which might include a fiery, fruit-perfumed eau-de-vie, or a mellow cognac.  A box of chocolates may appear, and you’ll be very tempted to miss the last métro home. 

If you are invited to dinner in a French home, bring a gift for your hosts: flowers, chocolate, wine or, my favorite, a book.  In a nod to Alexandre Dumas and his Causerie Culinaire (from Propos d’art et de cuisine, 1877), below is an example of a conversation-conducive meal with some of my favorite neighborhood sources (most of whom will be covered in future posts).
 
L'apéritif
Kir Royal
feta and roasted red pepper dip from the St. Eustache-Les Halles Market
mixed olives

L'entrée
Terre et Soleil’s Foie gras on fig toast sprinkled with
sel gris and Thiercelin’s Nepalese Timut pepper

Le plat
Roasted ‘salt’ chicken
tiny roasted potatoes, tapenade stuffed zucchini fans, slow roasted tomatoes

Le fromage
A selection of cheeses from Daniel Rigattieri
Salad tossed with Balsamic Mustard Vinaigrette

Le dessert
Stohrer’s Tarte à l’orange & Tarte au chocolat

Le café et les mignardises
Coffee & herbal teas
Charles Chocolatier: diamants noirs & mendiants aux fruits secs

Les digestifs
Michel Vosgien’s Quetsche de Pays Eau de Vie

●●

Neighborhood Sources
Marché St. Eustache – Les Halles, 1 rue Montmartre, 1st
Thursdays, 12:30-8pm, Sundays 7am-3pm.
Le Tir Bouchon, 22 rue Tiquetonne, 2nd , www.le-tirbouchon.com
Thiercelin/Goumanyat Spices, 3 rue Charles-François Dupuis, 3rd, www.goumanyat.fr
Fromagerie Daniel Rigattieri La Fermette, 86 rue Montorgueil, 2nd
Pâtisserie Stohrer, 51 rue Montorgueil, 2nd, www.stohrer.fr
Charles Chocolatier, 15 rue Montorgueil, 1st, www.charles-chocolatier.fr
Michel Vosgien, 24 rue Saint-Vincent, 54113 Bulligny


Written Sources
Alexandre Dumas (1877), Propos d’art et de cuisine, « Causerie Culinaire », pp 29-41, Paris : Calmann Lévy. Available online : http://books.google.com/books?id=lBs_AAAAYAAJ&source=gbs_book_other_versions

Adam Gopnik (2011), The Table Comes First: Family, France and the Meaning of Food, Knopf: New York.

J. Weintraub’s excellent translation appears as “Talking About Cooking: Alexandre Dumas’ Causerie Culinaire”, in Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture, Vol. 11, No. 2 (Summer 2011), pp. 85-89, available through JSTOR at your local library.




 Hashpa & Flore: Entre la poire et le fromage
Victor Vianu (C) 2004



My thanks to my teachers of the French art of conversation and dining:Claire & Michel; Serge & Sophie; Léonor & Marc; Aude & Gérard; Olga & Michel; Hashpa & sa bande


Monday, January 2, 2012

Bonjour & Merci

 
Bonjour & Merci

Some of the most useless language I have learned is in beginning language classes.  If you go into a shop to purchase bread, or ask a stranger on the street for directions, telling them your name and age isn't all that helpful.  Hi, I'm K-Rae and I'm 24 years old.  That's a bit creepy, not to mention passing strange since I learned those sentences more than 20 years ago in my college Russian class.

A few years ago my father was hit with a burst of motivation to finally learn some French in preparation for a Paris visit.  He had picked up some CDs and practiced for hours with his Walkman and headphones. His first day in Paris we walked into a store together and he confidently brushed me aside with an 'I've got this,' strode up to the shopkeeper and loudly and clearly asked, 'Parlez-vous français?' to which the gentleman predictably replied, 'Oui.' End of story. Another highly useful phrase he learned was 'Au feu!' which he practiced loudly on a train.  Fortunately, the rest of the passengers in the car just stared quizzically at the American with headphones, calmly repeating, “Fire! Fire!”

During my travels and while teaching my Survival French course in Paris to mostly American law students, I realized that the first responder phrases in any language are not, 'My name is ...', 'Where are you from?', 'What is your profession?' but 'Hello' and 'Thank you.' No one expects you as a tourist to be conversant in the local language, but people do appreciate politeness, and in France, an acknowledgment that you are not at home, but a guest in another land, is always well received.

I find that my monolingual American friends are often reluctant to use even the most basic French words out of a very human terror of embarrassing themselves and of not being understood.  Whatever their relationship with language at home, while abroad they see language as a practical means to an end.  'Their English is certainly better than my French so wouldn't it be less painful all around to cut to the chase with a polite, 'Hello.  Do you speak English?' It is better than beginning with 'Yeah, I'll have a beer,' but if you are after a deeper connection with your surroundings and interaction with your local environment you have nothing to lose and so much to gain by learning a couple of words.

Many people in their professional prime are extremely uncomfortable at the prospect of being seen as less than competent, and feeling at a loss in a foreign environment can make them feel very vulnerable.  If you only learn two words for your next visit to France, let them be Bonjour and Merci. There is nothing like a generous and cheerful Bonjour! to start off a conversation in French. Anyone can do it.  I promise and no one will care if it's evening, although they may correct you with a Bonsoir.

When I travel, I learn these two words. If you're in a country where very few visitors speak the language - China, Japan, Turkey, Hungary, for example - chances are the locals will be delighted with your minimal efforts.  Carry a pocket-sized notebook or a scrap of paper and ask people to write down words.

Another trick to conversing locally is to learn a simple, but unexpected polite sentence.  I have seen the artist and photographer Barbara Jo Revelle charm a photo out of many a reluctant Parisian with her beaming smile and disarmingly fresh 'Vous êtes bien aimable.' (You are very kind.)

Bonjour and merci.  Whether you’re in Paris for a semester abroad, for an extended expat stay, or just for a few days, these are the words that will open doors for you.  If you don’t speak French, you might feel self-conscious, but your efforts will be appreciated even more.  Walk into a bakery, a shop, or go up to a ticket window, and begin with bonjour.  Then you can ask if they speak English.  When you leave, even if you didn’t buy anything, say merci.  If you’re feeling adventurous, toss off an au revoir.


Vocabulary Tip: Even if you don’t speak French, make a list of all the French words you know, and then group them into categories - greetings, song lyrics, food, film, philosophy. You'll be amazed at the vocabulary you already have.

                                                       Bonjour!

                                                             Isabelle Vianu (C) 2010