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
Michel Vosgien’s Quetsche de Pays Eau de Vie
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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
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