Southern Fried French

Becoming the Perfect French Guest

Photo above: A spring table, set for a fête. Painting by Tom Vieth (more info below).

If you are invited to a French person’s home for a dinner party, you should know this: you are really someone special. The French tend to dine in restaurants with friends, and being invited to dinner chez eux is a big occasion. Especially if you’re a foreigner. And a French dinner party is not the come-on-over-Saturday-and-we’ll-throw-some-steaks-on-the-grill sort of affair. It’s a special event. All the more so, in a country where every meal is somewhat of a special event.

I came across an article called What to Expect When Invited for Dinner in a French Home, by Camille Chevalier-Karfis, the French language expert on about.com’s learning site.  She gives a good overview, but I decided to add a few thoughts of my own, that she didn’t cover:

Arrive late.  Le quart d'heure de politesse, it’s called, the ten to fifteen minute grace period for the hosts to do their last minute dash.

Bring a Gift.  Wine is not the thing to bring, it suggests you’re trying to play sommelier for the evening.  Bring a little hostess gift of some sort, or a plant or flowers (already arranged, please).  We often bring wine AND a gift, but we will whisper in the host’s ear, “Here’s a little something to tuck away in your cave.” Photo: Dining with French friends this past summer.

Gear up for a long evening.  From les apéros to les digestifs, at a French dinner party, the evening unfolds and blossoms in slow motion. Even a summer barbeque party is apt to have the same multi-course structure. We are seldom home before midnight, even with our aging crowd!

Don’t sashay into the kitchen to help with the serving or cleaning up. Unlike the States, this is not the land of the open kitchen; the kitchen is the domain of the chef, and your hosts want to regale you with warm and wonderful service. An offer to help is OK, but keep your seat if it’s declined.

Enjoy yourself!  There will laughter and heated discussions and wine and much fun. Dining in France is one of the best parts of living here. 

NEXT POST:  How to throw a fun French-themed dinner party of your own, for your Francophile friends.

 

About the painting above:  You may know Susan and Tom Vieth from their delightful blog, A Small Village in France. Tom painted this wonderful scene and it's now available as a silk scarf!  Perfect for spring (should it ever arrive...).  Get the info and see other scarves, here.

In the COMMENTS:  Christine (of the Pen at the Ready blog), I have a collard greens-averse husband too.  But then, he's not from the South. Libby of Libby Wilkie Designs is headed for Charleston--you'll no doubt hear even more about Sean Brock. Suzanne has a Louisville restaurant recommendation. And cornbread crumbs ,Suzanne, that is so inspired. Natalia, I'm jealous you're in the Southwest, where the Mexican food is divine!

Favorite Reads:  Our reader Christine Webb-Curtis has a new book out called Adventures in the Southern Corners of France, about her travels there. Just bought it, as I'm headed that way twice this spring. Plus big news:  The Daily Basics has a new monthly magazine, called The DB Mag.  It's on-line, it's free, and it's wonderful! Plus, they now have a love and life advice column, so send in your questions.

 

Down South, A Rock-Star Chef Surprises

We’re back in Charleston at the moment, which has us obsessing about food. Charleston has proclaimed itself the Foodie Capital of the Universe, and we can’t even keep up with the hot new restaurants, much less just the new ones (90 opened last year). But we soldier on and do our best.  

You know how in France the star chefs are opening up small bistros in addition to their flagship restaurants, to sort of play around a bit?  Well, that’s what the US golden boy chef du jour, Sean Brock of the fine and fancy Husk Restaurant, has done in Charleston. Chef Brock seems to be in every national magazine I pick up these days, showing off those beefy arms, tattooed with intertwining vegetables.

So what sort of casual place did he open? You wouldn’t guess it. It’s a hole-in-the-wall (but stylish) Mexican place with just a few tables, offering tacos ($3 each) and burritos ($8) served up with Tecate beer and margaritas. 

We love Husk, so we decided to try Minero, as he calls his new place. There is always a wait, even on a Monday at 6pm, when we went, so we saddled up to the tiny bar—and never left. We sat down next to a local chef who owns a farm-to-table catering business and who was on a tasting mission. He started passing bites to us (“sharing is caring”, he said), so the three of us together worked our way through most of the menu, served by our cheerful bartender.  Photo above of Minero by Sweet Tea Jubilee.

No normal Mexican joint, this. Brock spent 6 months just learning to make a true Mexican tortilla. He imports three varieties of corn and grinds the corn himself. He makes his own Mexican cheese. I told our bartender that somebody must be back there making tortillas all day; he told me there are in fact three ladies who do nothing but.  Photo right by Jonathon Boncek.

The food is inspired by Mexican street food, meant to be eaten with your fingers, or rather devoured. Silverware is discouraged (it’s kept in a drawer at each table; if you must have it, help yourself). There are piles of paper napkins, though a bib and a washcloth might have been useful.

Despite the authentic tortillas, the food is a Mexican mash-up. Behold this unlikely burrito: it was filled with hoppin’  john, avocado, queso de Oaxaca, and crema. The tortilla that enveloped it was burnished to a crispy shell. There was also a dish improbably labeled “hot dog confit and ham torta”.  Huh? Turns out Brock is riffing on a sandwich of unapologetic excess that he spotted in Mexico City: a split hot dog on a round bun with deli ham. Brock sautés the hot dog in rendered pork fat, hence the confit handle. Then he tops the sandwich with a thick slice of ham, avocado, shredded lettuce, tomato, a vegetable relish, shaved onions, and a chipotle mayo. Dessert was churros, served with a chocolate and chile dipping sauce.  We didn’t have room for the churros—so we’ll be back!

 

RECIPE: New South Collard Greens

Speaking of food from the deep south, I tried a new-fangled collard green recipe this week from that iconic food writer Ruth Reichl, former editor of the deeply missed Gourmet magazine. I tried it because it’s about as different from traditional collard greens as you can get, and because Ruth Reichl is one of my heros. Slow-cooked collards are just about my favorite food, but it’s good to step away from the dog-eared cookbook sometimes.

The collards are chopped into very thin strips (with an ingenious technique that is super quick), briefly sautéed with aromatics, then topped with toasted breadcrumbs, parmesan, and a splash of lemon. They were quite delicious and different. You can find the recipe at Ruth’s blog. I liked them cooked just a minute longer, and we preferred cider vinegar over the lemon juice, but otherwise I followed the recipe. So go on now, make yourself a mess o' modern collard greens!

 

In the COMMENTS:  First of all, for a very thoughtful and thorough post on Charlie Hebdo and the tradition of French satire, go to the blog Recollections of a Vagabonde, written by one of our readers who was raised in Paris.

Well last week's post on French kids and their eating habits certainly generated some interesting comments!  Rebecca, Tammy, and Caterina all share their experience working in schools, so they've seen some picky eaters. Martin gives us the UK perspective. Rhonda and Dottie (a pediatrician) both have some good tips to share on feeding kids. And Betty really did have les bébés who loved boudin!

Bonnie and Natalia have movie recommendations for you.  And many thanks for all the feedback on The Elegance of the Hedgehog. I'm reading it now, what a quirky and fascinating book!