Crêpe Bretonne

Love a crêpe*? If so, you’ll be highly motivated to read the following passage en français*. If you find the task a bit fatigant*, though, we’ve provided an English translation for you below. Bonne lecture*.

La crêpe bretonne est un plat traditionnel consommé couramment en Basse-Bretagne. Devenue particulièrement renommée en France et ailleurs, elle est également servie dans des crêperies, nature ou garnie d’ingrédients divers, salés ou sucrés suivant la recette de base.

La crêpe bretonne peut être confectionnée à base de froment (crêpe sucrée) ou de sarrasin (crêpe salée, typique de Basse-Bretagne). Cette dernière est moins connue et ne doit pas être confondue avec la galette de blé noir, typique de Haute-Bretagne, et dont la recette diffère.

Compliqué, oui! Délicieux ? Sans aucun doute.

Breton Crêpes are a traditional dish widely enjoyed in Basse-Bretagne (Lower Brittany). Known not only in France but elsewhere around the world as well, you can get them from crêpe vendors where you’ll find both plain or stuffed with various ingredients, and savoury or sweet according to the recipe.

Breton Crêpes can be made from wheat (sweet crêpes) or from buckwheat (savoury crêpes, typically from Basse-Bretagne). Buckwheat crêpes are less well-known and should not to be confused with buckwheat pancakes, which are typically from Haute Bretagne (Upper Brittany) and follow a different recipe.

Complicated, yes! Delicious? Without a doubt.

*crepe | *in French | *tiring | *Happy reading!

Where do the French eat their lunch?

I’m sure many of us believe France to be the home of the long lunch, but is it really?

We imagine French workers taking a couple of hours for lunch, repairing to the nearest restaurant with a group of collègues* and sharing a leisurely entrée, plat et dessert* with bread, wine (bien sûr*) and stimulating conversation.

The following article may just tip that idée reçue* on its head, as well as where they eat, how much they spend and with whom they choose to break bread. Of course, France is not immune to the increasing rhythm of daily life, so naturally habits are changing. It is heartening to note, though, that the majority of French workers tend to eat in the company of their fellow workers, a practice we’ve adopted here at Lingua Franca thanks to the influence of notre équipe française*.

For the full article (en français!*) go here.

Source : https://resofrance.eu/tendance/habitudes-alimentaires-francais-midi-28515

English modified version of French original

PS
You may remember we published the results of another study a while back on our social media channels which looked at the length of time spent à table* across an entire day. The French topped that list with more than two hours a day spent eating. What this study above shows us, therefore, is it’s generally not at lunch where the time is spent, rather at le petit-déj* or le dîner. Interesting, isn’t it?

*colleagues | *entree, main and dessert | *of course | *common preconception/cliché | *our French team | *in French | *sitting down to eat | *brekky | *dinner

Poisson d'Avril

Would you ever have guessed that April Fool’s Day in France would involve paper fish, giraffes and…Homer Simpson?

In 1564, Charles IX, then King of France, changed the date of the first day of the year to the 1st January. Up until that point, the first day of the year was the 1st April, which coincided with the end of Lent.

Naturally, such a seismic shift ruffled a few plumes*, with many still insisting on celebrating the New Year on the 1st April. Those who were more progressive saw these stalwarts as foolish in not accepting to literally move with the times, so took the opportunity to pin paper fishes on their backs and taunt them with Poisson d’Avril!*. The fish is a reference to Lent, as it was the only meat the Catholic Church tolerated being eaten during this time.

Even today, long after we’ve all come to terms with the ‘new dates’, Poisson d’Avril is still a day for practical jokes and trickery.

In 2020, the town of Beaulieu-sur-Mer posted pictures of giraffes invading the town and on 1st April 2009, the SNCF’s railway announcements were taken over by none other than Homer Simpson!

*feathers | *April Fish!

Easter Bells

With Easter just around the corner, our minds naturally turn to les petits lapins*. But should they?

If you’re a student of French, or just have an interest in la culture française*, you may be interested to know that in France instead of an Easter Bunny they have Easter Bells.

The word for 'bell' in French is cloche (think of a cloche hat) so the French version of the benevolent bunny is les cloches de Pâques*. According to tradition, churches all over France fall silent before Vendredi Saint (Good Friday) as their bells fly to Rome to visit the Pope. After receiving their Papal blessing, they fly back home late Saturday evening, dropping chocolates into backyards on their way.

The next morning (Easter Sunday or le Dimanche de Pâques) children are woken by the pealing of church bells, who, now safely back in their belfries, announce the time to rush into the garden to search for les chocolats*.

For those of you who celebrate it, Joyeuses Pâques* and enjoy your treats.

*bunnies | *French culture | *Easter bells | *chocolates | *Happy Easter

Beurre d'Isigny

Although not a stand-out star of French cuisine like foie gras or confit de canard, the taste of le beurre français* is nonetheless sure to remind you of your travels.

There are three butters in France which have been granted their own AOP (appellation d’origine protégée*), which guarantees they will be produced in a consistent and traditional manner, with ingredients from specifically classified producers in certain geographical areas.

When we heard that Chouquette in New Farm will soon be selling arguably the best of these butters, Beurre d’Isigny, we thought it time to lift the lid on why French butter tastes better.

There are three main reasons for the goût supérieur*.

French butter typically has a higher fat content (quelle surprise!*). Where Australian butter usually has a fat content of around 80%, French butter can go as high as 87%, which accounts for its texture onctueuse*.

Isigny-sur-Mer, the town which gives its name to the butter, is an important centre of dairy production in Normandy. Apart from butter, Isigny is also the home of Mimolette, Pont L’Évêque and Camembert cheeses. With a mild, damp climate and proximity to the sea, les vaches* graze on grass rich in iodine and particularly beta carotene which gives the butter its storied buttercup-yellow colour.

French butter is also cultured, a process whereby live active cultures are added to the cream before the butter is churned. Though this process is now deliberate, in days gone by, bacteria formed in the butter as farmers waited to have enough cream to churn. In any case, it is the fermentation process that means the butter takes on its own lightly tangy flavour, and in the case of Beurre d’Isigny, leaves a slightly hazelnut trace en plus*.

*French butter | *protected designation of origin | *superior taste | *what a surprise! | *creamy texture | *the cows | *as well

Did you know?

Walt Disney’s forefathers came from Isigny (his surname is a variation on the town’s name). So if you’re ever at Disneyland Paris you can be assured the butter will be of superior quality, since, in a show of loyalty, only Beurre d’Isigny is served. More about Disney’s French connections here…

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

La Liberté guiding the people by Eugène Delacroix (1830).

Those of you who have visited le nid* in recent months may have noticed we’ve named our salles de classes* according to the French motto ‘liberté, égalité, fraternité*.

It’s a well-known phrase for many French learners, but do you know its history?

Having overthrown the monarchy during the French Revolution (1789 - 1799), the revolutionaries were in search of a motto to unite the country. Many variations on the three words were bandied about and in fact Parisians took to writing a longer form on their houses from 1793: Unité, Indivisibilité de la République, Liberté, Egalité et Fraternité ou La Mort*. The inhabitants were soon asked to remove the last three words since it was too reminiscent of La Terreur*, the period of the French Revolution involving massacres and public executions.

It was only in 1946 when the three-part phrase we all know was stated explicitly in the constitution of the Fourth Republic that it become official. It is sometimes suggested that the three colours of the French flag represent the motto with blue for freedom, white for equality and red for brotherhood. Intéressant, non*?

*the nest | *classrooms | *freedom, equality, brotherhood | *Unity, Indivisibility of the Republic, Freedom, Equality and Brotherhood or Death | *The Reign of Terror | *Interesting, isn’t it?

Review : Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong

Sometimes things come to you at exactly the right time in your life. And sometimes they don’t.

I would loved to have read this book before I lived in France, not after I got back. I winced my way through each chapter, as it dawned on me the myriad cultural faux pas I’d made in my two years there. Sixty Million Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong is written by a Francophone husband-and-wife team, Jean-Benoît Nadeau and Julie Barlow. In 1999, Jean-Benoît received a grant from the Institute of Current World Affairs to study the French, in particular why they were resistant to globalisation.

It only took Jean-Benoît two weeks to work out that the French were not in fact resisting globalisation at all, though they were being portrayed by the press as doing just that. Intrigued, the couple set about uncovering the reasons for the antipathy toward the French, and whether it was a reasonable response to an arrogant and intransigent people or whether they were simply highly misunderstood.

What adds a certain authenticity to the book is that as fluent French-speakers Jean-Benoît and Julie had expected to settle into their French life with barely a ruffled plume*. To their great surprise, they were confronted with cultural clashes on an almost daily basis, providing further impetus to déchiffrer le code*.

We travel in search of difference. Voyaging to the other side of the world only to find they do things exactly the same as us would be a huge disappointment. And yet, when we feel this cultural dissonance, it often feels confronting, confusing or just plain irritating. This is where this book really excels. It covers a wide range of topics, from religion, money, privacy, education and history, and brings to light the reasons why the French do what they do. Unsurprisingly, once you’re aware of the background and context, it all starts to make a lot of sense, and this is where, for me at least, the cringe set in.

I had no idea how ingrained my Anglo-Saxon ways were until confronted with an alternative approach. Isn’t it normal to be friendly (answer: non*), to ask for someone’s name after a conversation (non!), to grab something to eat on the run (non, non, non!)?

If, as I do, you love France and the French and have been mystified by their ways at times, I highly recommend you read this book. We have a copy you can borrow in the bibliothèque* if you’re keen to start the debunking process, or it is available at good book stores or online.

*feather | *crack the code | *no | *library

Who is The New Parisienne?

Most people who have fallen in love with the French language came to it by the way of French culture: fashion, literature, movies, ballet, food, wine…the list goes on.

If you own a television or have ever flipped through a fashion magazine, you’ll know how ubiquitous the French aesthetic is. We often hold up French chic as the gold standard of style.

But how do we know if we’re being fed the true story? What does it mean to be Parisienne? Has it changed? Does asking these very questions make us feel slightly uncomfortable, like something’s about to be taken away from us?

Are we ready to have the dream not shattered, but perhaps adjusted to better represent the Parisienne of today? If you’re curieux(euse)* enough to consider the questions, you’re going to love this book.

[BUY THE BOOK]

[READ THE FULL ARTICLE]

*curious

Fleur de sel

I remember being in France on a trip with our students once and becoming almost overwhelmed with the enormous richness of the French culture. Admittedly, we’d been on a mission to soak it in, but at that moment it seemed like it was coming from every direction and permeating my very pores. Music, history, wine, fashion, language, art, cuisine…and I could tell I’d barely scratched the surface.

I’ll never forget that feeling and it’s what will propel me back to France for the rest of my life (if I’m very, very lucky).

So it was no surprise to me when I happened across the famous Fleur de Sel from Île de Ré recently that there was a history and tradition behind it qui fait rêver.*

In a tradition that spans more than 1000 years, paludiers* have hand gathered sea salt from the salt marshes in the north of Île de Ré. Known as “l’or blanc” or white gold, fleur de sel* production is once again a flourishing commercial pursuit. It was first traded in the Middle Ages, when monks from Saint-Michel-en-l’Herm, aware that the island was ideally situated at the crossroads of important shipping routes, decided to enter the market, trading with their Nordic neighbours the Danes, the Dutch and the Germans.

The arrival of railways and the Industrial Revolution spelled the end of the trade and the marshes fell into disuse, until in 1942, when a rehabilitation program was instigated which saw the patrimoine* of this ancient practice conserved.

So what makes fleur de sel so special? The reason lies in the fact the vast majority of the salt contained in the salt pans settles on the bottom of the marsh during the evaporation process. However, each day some salt crystals float to the surface of the water, forming a delicate crust on top. Its fragility necessitates that it be gathered by hand, and historically, workers who harvested fleur de sel were women, since it was believed they needed to be collected by "the more delicate sex." Today, both men and women do the harvesting, lifting the crystals from the salt marsh, like cream from milk. All of this care and attention doesn’t come cheaply of course, earning fleur de sel the nickname of "the caviar of sea salts."

Happening upon this website by chance is where the story kicked off, et quel voyage*! If you’re keen to treat yourself or someone you love for Noël, bringing a touch of tradition to the table has never tasted so good.

*that makes you dream | *salt mongers | *flower of salt | *heritage | *and what a trip!

Emily in Paris : info ou intox*?

Tout le monde en parle*, that’s for sure.

The new Netflix series, Emily in Paris, is causing a stir the world over.

“Emily in Paris Is Going to Seduce You” - New York Magazine

"Emily in Paris review – an excruciating exorcism of French cliches." - The Guardian

The debate reached Lingua Franca the day after the series dropped, with students either totally beguiled by the depiction of a young American (the titular Emily) who lands a dream transfer to Paris to work in a boutique marketing firm, or absolutely horrified by the unrealistic portrayal of expat life in La Ville Lumière*.

Intrigued, we decided to take a straw poll here au nid* among our six French team members to answer the question: Emily in Paris - info ou intox?

*fact or fiction? (intox is short for intoxication, which is a false friend. In French it means poisoning or brainwashing) | *Everyone’s talking about it | *The City of Light | *at the nest

La Génération Perdue

It appears intergenerational friction is as old as time. While today it's a tussle between the Boomers and Millennials, the period known as l'entre-deux-guerres* in France marked the arrival of La Génération Perdue, or The Lost Generation. So who were they and why were they lost?

The Great War had an enormous impact on everyone who lived through it, whether in Europe or elsewhere. Post-war America adopted a 'back to normal' policy, which was anathema to many of those who had come of age during the conflict. Finding their inherited values had no place in a post-war world, 5000 Americans a week boarded Cunard cruise ships bound for Paris, which promised a more liberal and permissive society (also, prohibition was bearing down in the States at this time - even more reason to escape to a less puritanical culture).

The artistic among them, chafing against the constraints of traditional values, descended upon Paris and started to explore a new paradigm along with other expatriates from all over the world.

A mix of writers, musicians, artists and dancers reinvigorated post-war Paris and produced a hotbed of creativity. Among the expats were F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Josephine Baker, Igor Stravinsky, Salvador Dalí, Ernest Hemingway and Gertrude Stein. In fact, it was Stein who first appropriated the term Génération Perdue after hearing a mechanic dressing down one of his apprentices who had neglected to repair her car on time, saying "Vous êtes tous une génération perdue!*". She mentioned it to Ernest Hemingway, who included it as an epigraph in his novel 'The Sun Also Rises’, about a group of American expats in Europe.

Revelling in the freedom Paris offered, these artists spent much time sitting in cafés, writing, dreaming, discussing, smoking, arguing and drinking - a heady mix indeed. Two of their favourite haunts were the renowned cafés Les Deux Magots and Café de Flore, nestled côte-à-côte* on the Boulevard Saint-Germain in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Nearby, on rue de Rennes, was a third hangout, La Closerie des Lilas. It is said that this is where Hemingway first read Fitzgerald’s manuscript for The Great Gatsby.

Soon, entrepreneurial types were capitalising on the revitalised artistic movement, opening publishing houses to disseminate their works, which were often racier in nature than what could be printed in their home countries. In fact, it was at this time that the iconic left-bank bookstore, Shakespeare and Co., was opened by Sylvia Beach on rue de l’Odéon.

For a soi-disant* lost generation, they certainly made a huge contribution to the creative world and their revolutionary vision and talent continues to inspire today. Maybe not so lost after all.

*between two wars | *You're all a lost generation! | *side-by-side | *so-called

Wine rules

If you've found yourself doing more home cooking recently, it might be an idea to look to the French concept of food and wine matching for some classic guidelines.

Balance is very important to the French, in all areas of life. This fact, coupled with their passion for good food and wine makes it logical that they would make an art form of balancing what they eat and drink.

In French, matching food and wine is called assortir les vins au menu. For a subject that can seem overwhelming for the amateur, the good news is that the basic tenets are really quite logical. Voici* some useful rules of thumb.

If you’re interested in a bit more nuance, try to follow the following ideas:

• A dry white wine is a good match for fresh seafood, a fuller-bodied white if the seafood is served hot, and a medium or even sweet white if the seafood is served with a sauce.

• Try to match the intensity of the meal with the wine. That is, a rich steak marries well with a full-bodied red wine, whereas scallops would benefit a more delicate white.

• Lastly, where possible, use wines from the same region as the dish. When all elements come from the same terroir,* the likelihood of a successful marriage is naturally higher.

Bon appétit!*

*Here are | *the unique combination of climate, soil and topography of a particular area | *Enjoy your meal!

La bise

Negotiating la bise* in France is a trap for young players and is almost certain to cause some embarrassment as some time or another.

While Anglo-Saxons are more inclined to shake hands when greeting one another (or do we kiss, or hug or do nothing? See? C’est compliqué*!), the French are conditioned to faire la bise*.

A very instructive insight into this cultural norm is found in the video below. The part I love the best is the step-by-step instruction as to where to place your hand, what noise to make and the fact that la bise is really not a kiss at all.

At the end of the video, the presenter recommends another very funny video by English comedian Paul Taylor, who was the ambassador of Le Festival a couple of years back. You may have even seen him perform at Le Tivoli.

WARNING: While the video below is definitely safe for work, if you do go on to search out Paul Taylor’s take on the French and their salutations*, be aware the language is quite ripe. You were warned!

*the kiss | *It’s complicated! | *to kiss in greeting | *greetings

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Le Carnaval

If you didn't know better, you could be thinking that life in France for Deborah is just one long fête*. In our last édition* of Le Chouchou News, Deborah explained la galette des rois*, and how this delicious 'kings' cake' is traditionally eaten on Epiphany Day.

This month, she's off to Pau's Carnaval Biarné. Pourquoi*? Glad you asked...

Le Carnaval

Quoi de mieux pour le moral qu’une vraie fête populaire ? Une fête gratuite, ouverte, qui vous aspire ! Carnaval, c’est une bouffée d’air pur dans un monde où l’on suffoque, un monde de plus en plus aseptisé et violent. Carnaval, c’est l’antidote à tous les maux, le plaisir de se laisser porter par une histoire fantastique qui mobilise tout le Béarn : celle du retour d’exil de sa Majesté Sent Pançard et de sa cour!

What better for the spirits than a true party for the people? A party that's free, open to all and lifts you up! Carnaval is a breath of fresh air in a world where we're suffocating, a world ever more sterile and violent. Carnaval is the antidote to all the bad. Let yourself be swept away by a fantastic story that brings together all of Béarn: that of the return from exile of His Majesty Sent Pançard and his court!

*party | *edition | *cake of the kings | *Why?