I had the loveliest lunch at my adviser Valerie's house yesterday. The relative calm of her apartment was a welcome change from the chaos chez Pellet. While I am beyond grateful for living here, it's nice to get some perspective on other French families. Her three children are not too far in age from my host siblings: her youngest must be around 5 and her oldest around 13. After showing me their Wii (which I sucked at), we sat down to a delicious lunch of grilled chicked with cream sauce and roasted fennel topped with goat cheese. It was followed by a beautiful cheese plate (served with wheat baguette!) and then a homemade chocolate cake made the classic French way.
The lunch did not go completely without hiccups -- the youngest broke a glass and some tears were almost spilled over the last piece of a cheese I don't know the name of -- but it was nothing like the shouting match dinners I'm accustomed to. Valerie seemed embarrassed at the behavior of her children, but I reassured her that it was much better than what I am used to. She seemed to reinforce traditional table etiquette much more than my host parents. Everyone was required to stay at the table until the end of the meal and could not serve the next course until everyone had finished the previous one.
I am definitely going to miss the structure of French meal time, and it will be a little strange returning to the Chinese-take-out-from-a-box model that will probably be the norm when I'm home this summer.
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