Recently in the category : Franced
Galette des Rois
In Episode 309 of Katia and Kyliemac V.O., I talked about the Galette des Rois that the boys, Mamie and I dined upon.
The galette is a flaky pastry cake, generally filled with frangipane (almond), and is eaten in January to celebrate Epiphany - the day the three wise men visited the baby Jesus.
Mamie couldn't remember the name of all three of the magi, and I could only remember what they brought the baby Jesus, so I had to look them up. Thanks google! So if it's ever a trivia question for you, here is the answer: Gaspard, Balthazar and Melchior.
If you want a far more eloquent explanation, and that from a French person, head over to Clotilde's Chocolate and Zucchini blog (she actually makes one!!)
So the 8-year-old popped under the table, since he's the youngest, to decide who gets each piece. It's a part of the tradition. And, to my surprise, named me as the first galette slice receiver.
Now, I've eaten more than a few of these with the boys, as well as with others, and I have NEVER found the "fève" - which is a little porcelain figurine hidden inside the galette. This year I can no longer say that. For the first time in my galette-eating history, I found the fève.
Yay me.
This means that I got the crown, which, yes, I still have somewhere...
Touch typists need not apply
The azerty keyboard : confusing anglophones for over 100 years.
Walk this way (or not)
For a minute, it looked like the cones are set up to stop people from walking on the dog poop.
I think they were actually to try to stop people from parking here, but from the knocked over cones all the way up the street and the masses of parked cars, I don't think it worked very well.
Differences between France and Australia #1,928
When sending a meal back to the kitchen in France (for example, the chicken skewers were not properly cooked and you're really not a fan of salmonella), one feels guilty for having bothered the waiter. And one feels that one must apologise profusely for having taken up their time.
In Australia, it would oftentimes be the waiter who would feel guilty and who would apologise profusely. And the manager might come out to apologise profusely. As might the cook. And then you'd get a free drink.
Obviously, this is yet another sweeping generalisation amongst many sweeping generalisations we like to make (in reality, waiters in Paris, at least, are quite professional and take their job more seriously than many waiters in Australia), but in every sweeping generalisation, isn't there a tiny grain of truth?
Why I Hate La Poste #7,451
On my way to work yesterday morning I found a slip of paper in the mailbox telling me that the postman had passed by with a package and wasn't able to find me and would therefore leave said package with the gardien.
My first problem with this lies in the fact that I was at home when the postman came by and therefore he should have been able to deliver the package into my hot little hands directly. My second problem is that when I went to see the gardien to pick up this mysterious package, he told me that I would have to come by tomorrow because the postman hadn't given it to him yet and would be back later in the day to drop it off.
And people wonder why I hate La Poste.
gardien/-ienne = caretaker
La Poste = French postal system
My boss gave me a lily of the valley for May Day
The 1st of May, the fête du travail, is the first of a series of French public holidays in May (and lilies of the valley, or muguets, are traditionally given on this day).
Anyway. This means long weekends. Which means I get to sleep in lots. Much appreciated after the Bad Idea Bears suggest more Cosmopolitains and Chocolate Martinis than I really need.
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