Queen of the King Cake

Can you see the extra kilos on me?
It's Monday morning, and Thomas and I are recuperating from going to 3 different get-togethers this weekend to eat....you guessed it, Galette de Roi. Each event featured both kinds of cake mentioned in my previous posting - the Frangipan and the Brioche (called a "Royaume", I was just informed this wkend- this means "kingdom" in French).
There's some kind of tradition that the youngest person at the event has to climb under the table at the cutting of the cake. Here's how it works: The host cuts the cake in equal parts numbering however many people are there and going to eat it. Then the youngest person there has to climb under the table and shout out the name of someone at the table - that person then gets served the first piece. And so on. All of this is to be sure there is no "tricher", or cheating, about who will wind up with the piece that has the "fevre" and/or the statuette, thus they get the crown and good luck!
Estelle was often under the table but that was just because she was enjoying exploring all these different homes we were visiting (all 3 of which had cats, which was TRES interesting for her). At the last party we were at yesterday, the hosts decided that whoever Estelle would look at first would get served, etc.
As you can see, it is SERIOUS business, the season of the Galette.
Event #1 Saturday brunch: at our neighbor's, who are both professional musiciens with the Monte Carlo Opera - the cat decided she like Estelle's portable high chair.

Event #2 Saturday tea-time in Grasse, sort of near Cannes, at our friend Emma's: Estelle was NOT the youngest attendee - here she is, coloring with Elodie who is 4 months younger.


Event #3: In the hills above Nice, we are at the home of 2 brothers I have given lessons to for 7 years. Their mom, Valerie, made her OWN Frangipan, which is a first for me. It was leagues better than anything I have had from any boulangerie, even the top-notch ones. As I said in my last post, I am no big fan of Frangipan, but yesterday chez Valerie changed my mind. Around a lovely fireplace, we enjoyed our galette with "cidre" - not apple cider like in New England, but fizzy cider, either "doux" (sweet) or "brut" (lightly alcoholic). Here is Valerie, cutting her beautiful Frangipan, under the watchful eye of Estelle:

Royaume:

Also at this party was the man who is responsible for me deciding to stay a 2nd year in Nice after my Fulbright year - Philippe. He was my boss my first year in Nice, and looked after me as well as any of my brothers would have. His reference letter got me my job at the university, he introduced me to Valerie and her husband and their boys (who incidentally own our apartment where we live now), and because of Philippe I kept my head that first year when I was in a bit of a state: culture shock when suddennly you realize that America is not the center of the universe, 911 shock having arrived in Nice on Sept 23, 2001, and lastly it was only a few months after losing my Dad. Where would I be now if Philippe hadn't said to me one day in January 2002 "You should look into a job at the university"????? Only fate knows.

Morocco Part I

Where have we been all week? Spent all wkend handling Estelle's 104.5 degree fever, finally winding up Sunday morning in pediatric "urgences", come to find she had an out an "angine" (viral throat infection). She threw up all over herself and me after the doctor swabbed her throat to check for strep. Lovely. In the panicked clean-up of that incident, we managed to lose a "doudou" (favorite little plush doll-thing). Good thing I bought 5 way back when, so I'd have extras just in case of such an occurence. Now she is fine.
EPIPHANY:
As Sunday was Epiphany, we have thus crossed from the "Buche de Noel" period into the "Galette de Roi" period. A "Galette de Roi" is what is known in America as a "King Cake". In the States they are primarily associated with New Orleans and Mardi Gras/Carnival - but here in the motherland, the party starts on Epiphany. There are 2 kinds of Galette, Brioche and Frangipan (almond-paste). I'm not crazy about either but Thomas is all about the Frangipan. When you buy either one in the bakeries here, you get a crown and then whoever finds the "fevre" or bean in the cake gets good luck. Often there are also little statuettes in each cake, with a different theme each year. Here is Estelle celebrating being back from her trip to the hospital, feverish cheeks and all. She enjoyed her little statuette but wanted nothing to do with the frangipan, preferring a simple butter cookie.


Here is what I ate instead: The last of the Buchettes. Santa's got his axe out for the last time this season!



Anyways, here are some photos from our trip to Morocco 6 weeks ago. Better late than never!
In Marrakesh, in the "medina" (old walled city):
Thomas with the "minaret de la Koutoubia" behind him - the most famous mosque in Marrakech.

Who is this fool with a snake around his neck? And what's more, he had to PAY to have the snake put around his neck. Please note that it pales in comparison to the real deal snakes, the cobras that were always doing their little scary Riki-Tiki-Tavvy (if you know this kid's book, then you hear my fear) thing. You can just make part of one of these beasts ou, coiled up, on the bottom of the photo. Those serious snakes were kept under tambourines until it was their turn to dance to the music. Anyone who knows me knows I have an unconditional, Code Red fear of snakes. Every time we walked by this place in the Place Jemaa-el-Fna, I made large detours to avoid these crazy men and their damn serpents. It was mildly traumatizing.

These next 3 photos are NOT in the famous place Jemaa-el-Fna, which is huge - sort of like part of the Mall down by the Smithsonians in Washington, but full of every kind of anybody trying to con you into buying either orange juice, dates, spices, wooden camels, hats, or, like some idiots, give up your money so you can get a snake put around your neck. However, there are smaller squares all throughout the medina, essentially offering up the same scene, minus the snakes (hallelujah). These photos are from a rooftop terrace where we were drinking authentic mint tea. I also hate mint, in fact used to think I was allergic to it, now just realize it upsets my stomach. However, the mint is so diluted, and there is like 100 parts sugar to 1 part mint, so you barely taste it. Who cares anyways when you're up on a roof taking photos of the wild scene below:



THINGS YOU CAN BUY IN MORROCO:
Eggs

Mint leaves for your tea:

Wierd colored stuff from an "herboriste" to cure all your ailments
Dried rosebuds

A tanned goat hide, for all your leather needs

More mint leaves and other who knows what from this young boy. We saw much "child labor" in the city, especially in the "souks" (roofed markets) - but always young boys. I almost never ever saw a young girl anywhere walking about- only at the letting out of school.
Carpets by the side of the road

Carpets on a roof, in case that's where you do your shopping

Carpets on the walls of a village outside Marrakech, to be visible by the tour buses

That's enough for one day!

Holiday videos

Anyone but my mother, sisters and nieces will be bored watching these, so unless you are them, don't bother! But when there is an ocean between you and your granddaughter/niece/cousin, you'll take anything, I guess. I do have to say that I keep thinking of my now 26-year-old niece, Sara, who was born when I was 11. She was queen of the castle for a while in our family, and if you think Estelle is the center of the spotlight in these videos, imagine poor Sara surrounded by her grandparents, 10 aunts and uncles, and their spouses/significant others (okay so maybe I was single when I was 11, but you get the point). That poor kid was like our social science experiment (It should be noted she is now in the process of becoming a lawyer, no doubt in order to better defend herself and others in front of large, hostile mobs, be they blood relation or otherwise). Estelle, with only 4 people surrounding her at the holidays, is getting off lucky.

Happy New Year!

The Blog is back in business. We flew back to Nice yesterday just in time to ring in the new year with a unexpected visit from my 2002 colleague Paula (English) and her BF Thomas (Austrian). Paula and I hadn't seen each other in almost 3 years. It should be noted that Paula, along with Fate, is responsible for me meeting my own Thomas - she organized the happy hour evening on Oct 23, '02 that eventually steered our little group into Vieux Nice that night, and thus to me meeting "The Hockey Player". So what a treat to spend the evening in such international company, jumping from English to French to German (not me for that tongue, however!).

A recap of a wonderful 8 days in Angers looked a little like this:
Lots of eating and visiting with friends, and the children of friends, like this first shot with pals Annaelle, Capucine, Lison (at table with Estelle) and Feriole (little boy in vest). That's Brice, one of the dads, with a piece of something in front of Estelle. Notice that Estelle is the one climbing on other's people's furniture in the 2nd photo!


Perhaps Estelle's biggest gift, though undeclared, was a whole new redecorated bedroom at her grandparents' house. Like an idiot I never took photos of it, but boy is it cute! Here's a shot where you get the idea of what the whole room looks like. It was once Thomas' grandmother's bedroom when she lived with him.

And here's the grown-ups, opening gifts at 11 pm on Christmas Eve, after the evening mass. Note the closed shutters in the window. They are admiring a photo calendar made especially for them starring guess who. Also note father-in-law Guy who enjoyed his gingerbread man ribbon so much that he decided to go for the Indian look.

After the gifts it is of course time to eat around midnight. We had foie gras, bouche de la reine (hot pastries filled with veal giblets and other sundries), and topped it all off with, of course, buchettes! (see photo)

Flash forward to the next morning when her highness awoke to her shoes under the tree (as is the tradition, as opposed to stockings), and everything around it just for her!

Admiring a gift of cubes that make animal noises of whatever photo is matched up on one side. This is an amazing invention. Daddy especially enjoys it.

How many Ouillades does it take to put together a wooden bicylette?

Riding around in front of the fireplace (and the creche) on "Luna", the new velo!

Checking out a parc in downtown Angers with Tata Agnes and us too.

Even the parcs have cool ruins in them!

Back in Nice on New Year's Eve morning, we had tons of Christmas cards in our mailbox (thanks to everyone in the States!). One padded envelope also contained a gift from Aunt Martha, which turned out to make me cry when I opened it - a reproduction of an old Christmas book from my childhood that I had forgotten all about, The Sweet Smells of Christmas. Here is Estelle fresh off the plane, opening it up:


After a quick read of the new book, everyone got into their pajamas for a mid-morning nap--having been up since 4 am for our flight.(previous photo shows Estellle a bit "fatigué". But I knew that lots of packages awaited us at the post office so I cut my nap shorter and charged out the door with my pull-along granny cart to La Poste.....where I almost literally got my head chopped off by the descending overhead door when I slid in at 11:59 am after my nap-just at closing time. When I left, they had to raise the door back up for me to let me out. But they only raised it up about 5 1/2 feet (size of the average French woman, I guess), thus I was forced to LIMBO my way out of the post office hauling my loot. Heavens. Quite sure they were mocking me. Here's a photo of the sleepyheads enjoying opening gifts from Aunt Joanie upon my return (by the way, I also picked up a few BUCHETTES at the bakery on my way back).

Like grandfather, like granddaughter - getting into the "wear a ribbon on your head" act.

First yogurt of 2008. What a treat!

Our little family spent the first day of this year at Uncle Craig and Doug's for a yummy New Year's brunch, complete with everything you could ask for. Estelle got these glasses which were her favorite part, though she fought being photographed in them!

A good start to the New Year! My best gifts included a new suitcase, Krullers mailed from Vermont (oh, the bliss...), the new book about Rhett Butler, and a snow globe of Dracula's castle in Transylvania from my Romanian cleaning girl, which is hilarious. And, perhaps the greatest gift for the entire country of France, smoking is BANNED in all restaurants, bars, discos, casinos, etc, starting today. Shocking, but true. Such great news for those of us with kids.
Happy NEW YEAR to all!

Estelle's new Housecoat

Today's French lesson;
I learned that a "housecoat" (a word we all use in my family but perhaps is less common around the US?) is a 'robe de chambre", whereas a bathrobe is a "peignoir".
The learning never ends when you are a foreigner.
Now Estelle has a housecoat for the cooler months. It sports a monogram of "Becassine", this old cartoon character, I guess you would call her. She is from "Bretagne" (or Brittany) that part of France up in the north west, not far from Mont Saint Michel. She's like the TinTin for girls, in her own wierd way. This is her:

Buche de Noel

What ever is this strange thing in the photos below?


There is weakness, and then there is WEAKNESS.
Every day lately when I go into our bakery on the street level of the building, I've been mildly captivated by something new for me here in France - mini Buche de Noels. After 6 and a half years, I've seen most everything that the Nicois bakeries can throw at me. You name it, I've tried it. Orange-water flavored fougasse (what's all the hype about? I don't think it's anything special), Beaujolais Nouveau (yes, I mean the red wine) mixed with Lyonnais Sausage in a heavy bread (oh, don't knock it 'til you've tried it, my dear, for I have become a believer), and of course the Nicois speciality, swiss chard and pine-nut cake (again, judge not ye of little faith).
But for a week now, these mini-Buche de Noels have been drawing my attention. First it must be said that they are cute as the dickens, decorated with tiny little Santas sometimes, but always with these dollops of fresh hardened meringue to look like snowballs, and of course the piece de resistance is the little miniature gold saw decoration, all different kinds of saws, on each one. Unfortunately the photo above you can't really make out the saw.
Anyway, the first day I saw them I totally forget Estelle (who of course knows her way around the place like her own bedroom and thereby was happily behind the counter demanding in gibberish a breadstick from the owner who acquiesed as usual) and hunkered low over the display case, completely forgetting my manners and breathing right onto the glass as I inspected them all.
There is every sort you can imagine, the basics like Chocolat, Coffee, Mint, to Grand Marnier (this one has the most impressive golden saw), Praline, Almond, Nougat, and some ones I don't even know what the hell they are. Up to now, I have been able to resist because I was always in the frame of mind of "how could I even choose?" and "they're really just a tiny bit too generous for one person to go with your afternoon tea." For the past 6 months or so, once a week on average I allow myself a lemon meringue mini-tart, it's about 6 bites worth and it is oh-so-lovely. The alarming part is when the girl that works there says to me in the afternoon "and perhaps a little lemon meringue treat for Madame?" What is scarier: that she is calling me Madame, or that obviously I have a reputation for lemon meringue? Good lord, I'm becoming Amelia Bedilia.
After hearing about how I am "too" thin and that I should either put on some weight or buy new pants, I struck up this "I can eat whatever I want" attitude which I think is finally catching up with me as the jeans are no longer falling off. This corresponds with no longer breastfeeding for the past 3 1/2 months. Hence me saying "I don't need one of those little Buches, for heavens sake."
But TODAY, in I walk to get some bread and Deborah smiles at me and says "I've got a little something for you...." There, glowing up at me is a Mini Buche de Noel Citron Meringue. "I'm in". I said to her, and in 2 seconds she had it all wrapped up.
Readers, I must confess once back up in the apartment and all the groceries were put away, that I strapped Estelle into her activity chair, handed her a crayon and some paper, blocked her view of me, and settled down to what can only be described as the same feeling Edmond must have felt when the Snow Queen let him gorge himself on Turkish Delight in Narnia. Or Augustus Gloop drowning in pleasure in the chocolate river in Willy Wonka.
I was almost dizzy after. Thomas doesn't know, I destroyed all the evidence. Decadence and smooth silk rolling over your tastebuds. I'm in trouble for the next 3 days before I get on the plane Sunday morning because now that the seal has been broken it is all downhill from here. It is DOWNSTAIRS for the love of god. I can go in my PYJAMAS.
This reminds me that Carnival is not far away = "bugnes" season (see previous post called "Addictions" from March of this year).
Heavens.
While I'm busy spiralling into a pastry-sugar filled coma, this is what my family is up to: fun with a box: