After a week in Bretagne, we asked our students to write down their impressions of French food and meals in general. While most of them raved about the desserts, crepes and other dishes they had tasted, what seemed to have impressed them the most was the skill the French had with a knife and fork. They can eat even a burger and fries using these two.
I was able to ascertain this when we were served a humongous pizza at a restaurant. The French pizza is unlike anything we have seen here.
It’s large (like XXXL), has a crust thinner than a regular thin crust pizza and is served uncut. When I took up my knife and fork to slice into it, the crust cracked up. So there I was, with a plateful of pizza and no way to eat it without making a mess of the pizza or an ass of myself. It was too big and too crusty to be rolled into a wrap; and there was no way I could manage to ply my cutlery through it. Finally, like a good Indian, I used my fingers to tear portions of it to eat, while my companion; using her knife and fork efficiently and economically; made short work of hers.
Fortunately for me, there was the cider. Quimper is famous for apple cider and we found it absolutely delicious. It tasted different each time to our untutored palates, but that didn’t stop us from having it every chance we got!
We visited a friend who lives on a farm with her husband, three kids, some sheep, hens, a rooster and assorted fruits and flowers growing all over the place. It had been a long day and she wanted to whip up a quick, satisfying dinner for all of us. So, she rolled up her sleeves and mixed up a really big batch of pastry dough. Then she went to the hen house and returned with a basket full of eggs.
A little later, we were being served warm slices of quiche with glasses of chilled white wine. On a cool evening, in the open air and seated at a wooden table, it was one of the simplest and best meals I have eaten.
A picnic at the beach with her family was just as enjoyable. There’s something about eating ‘al fresco’ that makes food taste better. We sat in the sand, scooping up hummus with chips and nachos and looking at the ocean as it stretched out in front of us. We tore out chunks from the baguettes and had them with slices of ham, cheese or both. And since no meal can be complete without wine, we sipped on a cool, pink ‘vin rose’. To end the meal, she had brought along a box of the most scrumptious salted caramel squares which we scarfed down with ‘ooohs’ and ‘mmms’. After such a glorious meal, we were all set to walk the length of the beach, hunting for shells.
Some meals are made special because of the place and the people they get associated with. And that’s what memories are made of.
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