The Possibilities of ‘Non’ and the Limitations of ‘Yes’

I always tell my students that a ‘no’ in France does not necessarily signal the end of the discussion, but often the beginning. Last summer, my daughter was trying to organize an internship in France through a family friend. The phone conversation went like this, “You’re a minor and it’s not easy. There would be problems with liability. The work site is dangerous. You could blow something up, get hurt and then what? Your mother is American, your parents would probably sue us. The directrice says if we make an exception this time, it will open the floodgates to other young interns. You see the difficulty, right?” I watched her shoulders sag as she punctuated each rejection with murmurs of “Oui, Oui. Non, I understand. Bien sur.” She’s a bicultural kid and even if she wasn’t conscious of her actions, her strategy was perfect. She listened, she was polite and she waited. She let him talk and just as she was about to thank him for his time and to hang up, she heard, “Alors, on se voit demain matin à 8h30 ?” So, see you tomorrow morning at 8:30?

She went on to have an extraordinary experience that has set her on a completely different path. Her presence was unofficial, known to everyone, including the directrice, but sous le radar. At lunch one day, the director caught a glimpse of her and asked her sponsor if that was l’américaine they had discussed the month before. I think the answer was a clin d’oeil, a wink, and something along the lines of I don’t know what you’re talking about.

There were three components to this successful outcome. First of all, that the internship even happened was in large part due to a personal connection. Secondly, she listened to the objections being laid out and instead of ending the conversation, she agreed with her sponsor as he enumerated the ways in which the whole endeavor was problematic. Then she waited, and got to the yes. Finally, she understood that permission was contingent on her discretion. 

Sois discrète. Be discreet. Tu vas te faire remarquer. You’re going to attract attention. These are words that French children hear constantly. In American culture, we teach children to be proud of their accomplishments and to consider themselves unique and valuable. French children are taught to watch and listen. The idea that a child might have valuable input is laughable. What the French would consider boorish boasting, Americans think of as essential to success.  

Six months later, my daughter is organizing a similar internship in the US. Since she has no personal connections, she sends out a dozen requests. The first rejecter, who is German, tells her that he is unavailable and suggests she might have more luck if she can seek out a family friend or other such contact in the field. The second email, from an American, is a yes. Wow. Euphoria in the household! But wait, careful reading of the email and the several more that soon follow, reveal that the resounding ‘yes’, is actually more of a ‘yes, but’. Yes, you can do an internship with us, but you need to find a sponsor within the organization, provide certification (what certification does a high schooler have?), prepare a proposal and organize a meeting with your teacher and the institution (Really? Yikes!). So, she’s writing emails, sending her resume, researching the organization, detailing her goals and objectives, and generally demonstrating her commitment to the endeavor.

It’s not that personal connections aren’t helpful in the US. Of course they are. In fact, her teacher, having a better idea of the type of project she’s interested in, has offered a connection of her own, in addition, or instead of her current prospect if it doesn’t work out. Getting to yes in the US often involves a self-promotional approach and demonstration of commitment in ways that might be considered over-reaching, or to use my mother-in-law’s term, ‘uppity’, in France.

A related topic, which deserves its own post, is how French and Americans differ in how they access information. I think it will have to be written with Emily Seftel, an American in Paris who writes a column here, and as a logistics magicienne has spent several years studying just this.

Sunshine in Winter: Tarte à la Moutarde

It’s snowing in Paris! Or, as Malcolm Miller, guide extraordinaire of the Chartres Cathedral says, “We are having an endless, dreary, cold and now snowy winter.” For a Californian, snow is exciting and skiing in front of the Sacré Coeur even more so, but it is mid-March and a slight taste of summer would not be unwelcome. At this point in the year, I need a boost of bright, acidic flavors, something light and flavorful to kick my taste buds into action - tomatoes; rosemary, thyme, mint, basil; strong Dijon mustard.

Tarte à la moutarde was first introduced to me as an easy to throw together tart using store-bought pâte brisée or pâte feuilletée that was slathered with mustard, covered with ham slices and baked in the oven. These days, my preferred version of Tarte à la moutarde is made with a butter rich parmesan and herbed flecked crust blind baked then smeared with a generous glob of sinus opening Dijon mustard sprinkled with a scant handful of cheese and topped with thinly sliced tomatoes, a sprinkling of herbs and a few olives. A swooshing drizzle of olive oil and the tart is baked until the tomatoes start to brown. 

Any pie crust fears can easily be put to rest with the addition of an egg and the use of a food processor. It’s life changing.

Serve with a platter of jambon cru or the Swiss beef version that I always associate with Alpine ski vacations, Viande des Grisons, and a wintry salad with a bitter bite, such as endive or cresson.   

Tarte à la moutarde

© 2013 K-Rae Nelson

Use lots of mustard!

© 2013 K-Rae Nelson

Tarte à la Moutarde

(adapted from ‘Loch Arthur Cheese and Tomato Tart’, Bon Appétit, May 2004)

Serves 4 generously

Makes one 12”/30cm thin-crusted tart

Ingredients

200 g/1½ cups/7 oz                      all purpose flour

115 g/½ cup/4 oz                          chilled unsalted butter

30 g/1/3 cup/1 oz                          finely grated Parmesan cheese

½ tsp.                                            salt (or big pinch sea salt)

1 tsp.                                             thyme or other dried herbs (optional)

1                                                    egg

2 tsp.                                             ice water

60 g/4 Tbs.                                   whole grain or Dijon mustard

85 -140 g/3-5 oz                           grated or crumbled cheese (gruyere, goat)

6-8/1 ½ lb.                                    tomatoes, sliced, depending on size

To taste                                         sea salt and freshly ground pepper, thyme

1 Tbs.                                            extra virgin olive oil

6-8                                                 olives, to taste

Directions

(NB: If using a store-bought shell – I won’t judge, really! - begin at step #5.)

1)      Combine flour, butter, Parmesan cheese and salt in food processor.  Pulse blend until mixture resembles coarse meal. 

2)      Beat egg and 2 tsp. ice water in small bowl to blend.  Add to dry ingredients. 

3)      Process until dough comes together in a ball. 

4)      Gather dough into ball, flatten into disk.  Wrap with a long sheet of plastic wrap, or place in large ziplock bag.  Chill 1 hour.

5)      While dough is chilling, slice tomatoes, place on paper towels, salt. 

6)      Preheat oven to 200°C (400°F).

7)      Place dough on flat surface (still in plastic bag or covered with plastic wrap.  Roll out into disk with hands, wine bottle, or if your kitchen is particularly well-equipped, a rolling pin.  Transfer to buttered tart pan with removable bottom.  Smooth bottom with fingers.  Press tart shell with fork in several places.

8)      Cover tart shell with waxed paper or foil and pie weights (or beans or rice).  

9)      Bake in oven for 10 minutes, turning at 5 minutes.

10)   Remove tart shell from oven.  Remove foil/waxed paper and weights.

11)   Smear about 3 Tbs. of mustard over the bottom of the tart.

12)   Sprinkle cheese over mustard – about 3-5 oz. as you wish. I prefer the emphasis to be on the tomato rather than the cheese, but tastes vary.

13)   Blot tomatoes with paper towels to remove excess juice.  Layer tomatoes on tart shell in as pretty of a pattern as you can manage. 

14)   Sprinkle with thyme, salt, pepper. 

15)   Drizzle with the olive oil.  Decorate with a few olives.

16)   Bake for about 30-40 minutes in the oven, turning at mid-point until the cheese is melted and tomatoes are soft and slightly charred.