My Favorite French Things

I have suffered from a wicked case of Francophilia ever since I sat in my first French class at 14 years of age and had to repeat over and over again: "Je joue au tennis aujourd'hui." But my affliction has raged out of control lately and I can't quite figure out why. Here are my guesses:

• With the new job and the winter weather, I feel an overwhelming need to be self-possessed and in control - all the things I imagine a beautiful Frenchwoman to be.


• I've whipped out all my big sweaters and boots, which make me feel all sophisticated and French-y.
  


• There's nothing je ne sais quoi about me...and I sort of wish there was.
  


• I've been stuck in a day-to-day rut and feeling the need to re-introduce beautiful things into my life.
  

I've also encountered lots of fabulous French-related things lately that have added fuel to the fire:

• I read this blurb in PW that brought The Pillow Book of Lotus Lowenstein by Libby Schmais to my attention. My lovely friends at Random House sent me a copy and I can't wait to start it.


• There's this odd little French place in the building where I work: Sud de France. It's on the ground level and huge windows allow you to see everything going on. I haven't been able to discern quite what it is they do, but I know they have dinner parties, display art, and seem to have lots of wine. And naturally everyone that works there is all young and fabulous. Doesn't it seem like a great place to work? Even though it's unclear what they do...
  


• One of my favorite French-related books: Immoveable Feast: A Paris Christmas by John Baxter. Perfect reading for this time of year. (Note: I loved it before I ever started working at Harper and discovered it was a Harper book) I also found this wonderful interview with John Baxter, all about his life in Paris. Baxter, I think, gives a more accessible glimpse of the expat life than, say, Adam Gopnik (whose work I also love).



• This post at My French Kitchen is additional evidence I'm living in the wrong country. Hell, Ronell's entire blog is evidence of that.


• Bike-riding (referred to here)
• Yves-Saint Laurent's Experience Parisienne blog is blissful and inspiring. Full of beautiful, beautiful things.
  


• I recently re-read Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging: Confessions of Georgia Nicolson by Louise Rennison. I forgot about all the French language bits in the book. In particular, I dog-eared page 14 in my paperback copy where Georgia and the ace gang walk around town asking people for directions in French. Hilarity ensues. Or you can just swear like Georgia: "Sacre bleu. Merde. Poo."
  


• For more French reading, I can't recommend Madame Pamplemousse and Her Incredible Edibles enough. Written by Rupert Kingfisher, it is refined, quaint, and delightful. I reviewed it here. And in the process of writing this blurb, I found out that there was a sequel, Madame Pamplemousse and the Time-Travelling Cafe! I have written to the powers-that-be, begging for a review copy (though I think it might have only released in the UK).
  
  
• French mints. Several weeks ago we had some friends over for dinner (Molly, Jen, and Heather) and Heather brought these Li-Lac Chocolate Mints with her. Not only were they beautifully packaged, but they were delectable: delicate, balanced, and decadent.


• Here are some picture book suggestions for Francophile parents and their children: The Enemy by Davide Cali and Serge Bloch (Schwartz & Wade, 2009), For Just One Day by Laura Leuck, illustrated by Marc Boutavant - any of Marc's books, really (Chronicle, 2009), Big Rabbit's Bad Mood by Ramona Badescu, illustrated by Delphine Durand (Chronicle, 2009), My Goldfish by Barroux (Eerdmans, 2009), Adele & Simon by Barbara McClintock (FSG, 2006), and of course Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans (Viking, 1939). And then when you've finished your literary tour, watch Ratatouille.
  
  
  

Eat, drink, and use that damn passport.

Foodie Books for Kids: Madame Pamplemousse and her Incredible Edibles

Do you talk with young fans of the movie Ratatouille? Maybe…maybe not…as it was *such* an adult film. Nevertheless, Madame Pamplemousse and Her Incredible Edibles by Rupert Kingfisher (Bloomsbury USA, 2008) is a good book recommendation for those kids that love food, Paris, Ratatouille, dastardly villains, quaint stories…or a combination of these.

Madeleine (of course!) spends every summer working for her sinister Uncle Lard in his touristy, despicable Paris restaurant, The Squealing Pig. Naturally, Madeleine would slaughter Uncle Lard should they be pitted against each other in an Iron Chef competition…and Uncle Lard knows this, which is why Madeleine is relegated to dishwashing and errand-running all summer long. It is on a shopping trip for pâté that she follows a white cat (yes, there’s totally a parallel between this and Lewis Carroll’s White Rabbit) into a rundown shop tucked away in a dark alley. Madeleine meets Madame Pamplemousse who gives her “Pâté of North Atlantic Sea Serpent with Green Peppercorn Mustard”. Afraid of Mme Pamplemousse, Madeleine quickly pays for the pâté and runs away. Unbeknownst to Uncle Lard, the mysterious pâté is fed to his customers. They swoon, mistake Uncle Lard as the chef responsible, and he skyrockets to super-stardom in the Parisian restaurant scene.

What follows is something very similar to Ratatouille: eventually, the world finds out that Madeleine is a great cook and Uncle Lard is a fraud. We find out that Mme Pamplemousse’s edibles evoke warm memories and feelings in those who eat it (Remember the scene in Ratatouille when the critic remembers scenes from his boyhood upon eating a bite of Remy’s ratatouille dish?). Naturally, the ending is happy and lovely.

You librarians will know what I’m talking about when I say this is not a “circbuster”. However, it shouldn’t be overlooked. It’s a frothy, light gem of a story, perfect for the more serious and quieter intermediate reader who wants a cozy read. It has a delicate, subtle quality to it that we often associate with la belle France.

The illustrations by Sue Hellard suit the story perfectly – they have that refined line and quality that remind one of picture book art from another era. Some might find it odd that Uncle Lard is drawn as an anthropomorphic pig and the food critic (again, Ratatouille anyone?) is drawn as a weird beak-nosed, sunglass-wearing creature; this could confuse young readers. Ultimately, though, I enjoyed Hellard’s approach: I don’t believe Uncle Lard or Monsieur Langoustine actually looks like this, but Hellard was capturing their core personalities and depicting them physically. It’s quirky…which is so French.

The food writing? Wonderful. Kingfisher describes fantastical bottles in Mme Pamplemousse’s shop and the reader will wish they could peruse the shop themselves, exploring its nooks and crannies and all the food within. There are two passages that I particularly loved, and I want to share them both. Here is the first:

It took a moment for her to adjust to the candlelight, but what she noticed first was the smell. A cool, musty odour, like the air in an old church – but one that was made entirely out of cheese. She could detect a deeper, spicier note beneath that was warm and exotic and reminded her of a Middle Eastern bazaar. But that was not all, for Madeleine had a highly developed nose; there was also a scent like lavender that has been drying in hot sunlight.

Um, I can’t recall ever before getting such a tremendous sense of place through the smells described to me in a book. But I certainly did here. And the second passage:

But even though Madame Pamplemousse sells the most delicious food ever tasted, her shop is by no means famous in the city of Paris. And nor would she ever want it to be. For she makes enough to get by and is happy each day to awake at dawn, drink a small black coffee and open up her shop, serving her customers and meeting with her suppliers. And come sundown she likes nothing better than to sit on her balcony above the rooftops with her cat, Camembert, discussing the day’s events over a bottle of Violet-Petal Wine.

Now, I don’t know what Violet-Petal Wine is but don’t you wish you could try some??? Me too. This is about the only passage that delves into Mme Pamplemousse’s character, but it’s just the perfect amount. It’s restrained, telling you enough but not too much. Again, so French.

I loved this book, and it might just be my favorite non-picture foodie book for kids thus far. Which is saying a tremendous amount, as I loved Dear Julia and The Year the Swallows Came Early. In fact, I might be doing all three of these books a disservice by comparing them, as they are all so very different from one another. Want to read good food writing and a book for young people? Madame Pamplemousse, Dear Julia, and The Year the Swallows Came Early are the go-to recently published books.

Eat, drink, and dream of Violet-Petal Wine.