The French Lunch.

Last Tuesday was a holiday here and I was invited to join Em and Co for lunch at their home.  Also invited were Francois’ parents.  Perfect.  Some catch up time.  Although they don’t speak much English between my ‘its coming along French’, Denis and Annie’s efforts to plug in some English words, some enthusiastic pantomiming and the translation skills of Emily and Francois we actually all manage to have conversations.  Hurray!  A lunch to look forward to indeed.

The invite was for noon, but it was just past 12:30 when my zippity bike got me there as I got caught up in my French visa registration online and couldn’t pull myself away until it was done.  (And it was done I am happy to report; just waiting now on word on when and where to appear for my physical exam.)  The patio dining table was casually set, with wine and water glasses, cutlery and plates.  As is the custom, within minutes we were all seated around the table and the first type of wine was served- champagne (!) with a full plate of radishes, meat and nuts on offer as self-serve accompaniment.  Much conversation, wine bottle emptied and another presented with glasses being refilled as desired.  Two hours later, (I really am not sure as at no time was I looking at my watch), the apero plate was removed.  Simple but fresh ingredients salads eventually appeared, sausages removed from the barbeque and added to the table.   Baguettes were scattered on the fringes of the food plates.  Red wine was offered.  An hour or so later the cheese course appeared and then a simple coconut cake that Emily had made that morning.  And a sweeter wine to accompany the end of meal food.   Then the Portuguese neighbours stopped in and stayed ages for a visit.

It was after 7 when I rolled my bike into my courtyard.  You see, when the French invite you for lunch it is not a come and eat and then be on your way.  No, no, it is a leisurely process of breaking bread together (wine always optional but it is a delight with the David’s as this family really knows their wine!) and having unrushed conversations about this, that and everything in between.  It is beautiful really, this way of life that is far removed from the rushed North American way of quickly, and often robotically, consuming calories.

Tomorrow night I am having Em and Co and the English couple I rented from last time I was here, over for dinatoire.  That is a fancy way of saying an appetizer dinner.  I know I don’t have the casualness that Emily and Francois have about serving simple foods in an unrushed way, but I am going to try.  Try to just sit and relax between offerings.  Chat.  Feel unrushed and unobligated to scurry back and forth between the kitchen and the table with the various foods I have planned.  I know it will take some time but gosh darn it, the practicing has to start somewhere!

Wish me luck, or should I say- bonne chance!

Xo

PS re the bank.  I went in on Wednesday but they couldn’t release my card until I provided

something official that had my SIN# on it.  Back home I went and dug out of my laptop some tax forms that had this # and my name on them.  I emailed them to the bank and got a phone call later in the day (now that’s an experience I can tell you, me trying to have a conversation in French on the phone!) telling me everything had been approved.  This afternoon I went in again, got my bank card, was aided in using it the first time to activate it and then shown how to deposit money.  Oh, it’s a bit of a step back in time my friends.  You take one of the plastic bags sitting at the ATM, fill in your name and bank account #, mark down how many of what denominations of bills you have and then record the final tally, pull off a small receipt from the perforation at the top of the bag (which has a # on it that corresponds with the # on the bag), pull off a protective strip then fold it over so it self-seals, hold it in the slot where deposits go until it is indicated that you can push it forward, then take the receipt provided for proof of your transaction.  And I was told to make sure I keep the receipt and the tab top until I have confirmation that the money went into my account.  Which, although I have downloaded the bank’s app, I was unable to do as it turns out the bank has to give me a 6 digit code before I can access my account online.  So…… back to the bank I will go tomorrow for what will hopefully be the last time in the saga of setting up a French bank account.  I must say though, it does feel good to have that bank card now in my wallet.  Yahoo!!

One more sign that I am really and truly putting down roots in this foreign country that enthralls me.  ❤️

PPS:  The food photo accompanying this story isn’t from the described lunch.  It never even occurred to me to take any photos.  🤦‍♀️