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| they dont smile for pictures |
this weekend started with a doozy. alex, my roommate and i decided that we were going to cook dinner for our host family. something american. something traditional and well something feasible. all of their students in the past have made something for them and we of course could not let this tradition down. we really wanted to make something they had never had before, which is difficult considering hardly any food is truly "american" or something they dont already have a better french version of .. examples: croque monsieurs that make grilled cheese's look wimpy .. and tart tartines which put some apple pies to shame. so when i told this to my mom a couple weeks ago.. she loved the idea and was an instrumental part in figuring out what we were going to make. she sent me such a wonderful
package! in that little beauty was 2 jars of Sticky Fingers Carolina Sweet barbeque sauce and instant grits. Southern specialities in a box right there.
well finding the right time to make such a meal was much more difficult than we thought. but we ultimately decided that this past friday would be it. my friend Sharod was due to visit and a friday would give us the afternoon to prepare. Sharod is my friend from USC, we had almost every class together last year and he even roomed with my best friends Kory and Brad. he is studying in a little town called Pau, in the Southwest of France by the Pyrenees. Since I didnt want to be rude and assume my host family would cook for him, I decided it would work out great because since we bought and prepared dinner, it would be less imposing. So i spent hours researching and researching and researching how to make BBQ .. not only that but how to make BBQ IN france. what cuts to buy, where to buy it, how to say that in french, how to convert measurements and how above all else, to cook it.
thank God for my mother. she called me and over some very expensive cell phone minutes, she pointed me in the right directions, gave me guidance and calmed me down. Alex thankfull was able to purchase the meat. After going to 3 different butcher shops and going through the usual game of charades that we play when trying to get something accomplished via the language barrier and thankfully the woman was very nice and helpful. i meanwhile, searched and searche and searched for the cheddar cheese or something similar to use in the grits. as any self respecting southerner knows, grits need cheese. and not the fancy french kind, but real hearty, sharp cheddar. amusingly, i found 'CHEDDAR CHEESE' at monoprix. so funny because it was slices for 'ze hamburgahs' and tasted strangely like American Kraft singles. Ironic how the french denote cheddar and american the same type of cheese when cheddar is originally from the town of cheddar, UK.
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| had to teach him that no, its not drinkable |
so most everyone knows that if youre going to have pulled pork sandwiches, which is what we decided we wanted, you need a crockpot and atleast 8 hours. well the french dont have crock pots. and every recipe/direction i found online gave me different information. thankfully i realized that my host mom has a pressure cooker and voila, solution. in less time. still it didnt keep me from being extremely nervous, on edge and lacking confidence in my planned meal. it didnt help that sharod was due to arrive conveniently at 730, when the dinner needed most of my attention. it also didnt help that i felt like my host mom, within reason, was questioning me and my knowledge of what i was doing. in all honesty, i had no idea. ive seen my mom do BBQ before, but i shoulda paid more attention. thank god for google.
so dinner needs to be started, sharod needs to be picked up from the train station, their granddaughter needs me to play pattycake with her, sharod also needs hotel reservations that are convenient, cheap and available, my mom needs me to fill out a form for housing next year and my friends here were just being plain dumb. i coulda pulled my hair out. i almost did. i always do this thing where i let everything become much more of a pressure situation than it really needs to be. and tears swell up and i just want to give up. all it takes is for one person to look at me and ask if everythings okay, and i, on principle, think i have to be strong and composed and in control all the time so i just nod my head and smile. when in reality decision making can be really tough for me and sometimes i just feel lost and helpless. even though im 21, with a good head on my shoulders (i like to think) and am starting to learn the ins and outs of life, i just cannot help being a complete emotional mess from time to time. its so dumb because I KNOW that things ALWAYS work out in the end. everytime i feel like the world is crashing down around me.. i always get proven wrong.
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| the 3 chefs :) |
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| robert and his princesse de le sud :) |
and voila. mireille volunteered to drive me to the bus station to pick up sharod and then take him to hotel paul to check in, then back to home where the meat had needed 20 more minutes and alex took care of it. so by the time we got home it was just about done. we pulled it off the bone, whipped up some yummy grits, green beans and even made chocolate chip cookies. mireille made homemade bread for the sandwich rolls and robert and alex set the table all nice in the dining room. while we were finishing the preparations, robert split a beer with sharod. possibly the sweetest thing i have ever seen. and before i knew it, we were sitting at the table and everyone LOVED it. well Odile didnt. (that's their daughter who has been living with us since we got here because her husband just divorced her. she chain smokes like a french teenager, is 42 years old,
diabetic, wears the same clothes EVERY day, coughs up her lungs at each meal and every night, snores like a grizzly bear with asthma and really is quite very nice) but of course, she tried ONE MEASLEY LITTLE BITE. and goes no, i dont like it. WHATEVER. i loved it, sharod loved it, alex especially loved the grits and my host parents loved it. i was worried cause ya know, grits arent for everyone. but it turned out great!!!
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| c'etait joli et délicieux et fini, finalement |
that night i took sharod to the fountain to meet up with everyone from school. we stayed there for a while, enjoying the nice air and the music coming from the nearby bars and just having a good time in the south of france, comme toujours!
so dinner needs to be started, sharod needs to be picked up from the train station, their granddaughter needs me to play pattycake with her, sharod also needs hotel reservations that are convenient, cheap and available, my mom needs me to fill out a form for housing next year and my friends here were just being plain dumb. i coulda pulled my hair out. i almost did. i always do this thing where i let everything become much more of a pressure situation than it really needs to be. and tears swell up and i just want to give up. all it takes is for one person to look at me and ask if everythings okay, and i, on principle, think i have to be strong and composed and in control all the time so i just nod my head and smile. when in reality decision making can be really tough for me and sometimes i just feel lost and helpless. even though im 21, with a good head on my shoulders (i like to think) and am starting to learn the ins and outs of life, i just cannot help being a complete emotional mess from time to time. its so dumb because I KNOW that things ALWAYS work out in the end. everytime i feel like the world is crashing down around me.. i always get proven wrong. 
