July 2, 2013
I have yet to utter the words, “summer is here!” I’m afraid I might jinx it. But there was a barbecue last weekend, and rain did not come to put out the fire — that’s got to be proof, right?
There are a few things that are different at French barbecues. The sausages they grill are thinner, and they go in pieces of chewy baguette, not the soft buns I’m used to. The grills are adorably tiny. And they can’t be held in the city, so you must find friends with homes in the suburbs. Preferably with gardens.
July 17, 2012
How was your Bastille Day? We had planned to take a stroll along the Canal Saint-Martin and go see the fireworks at La Tour Eiffel, but our plans were thwarted by the intermittent thunderstorms, so we opted to stay home.
I know, not very patriotic of me, was it? But I was highly amused to learn (via YouTube) that last year’s Bastille Day fireworks were Broadway musical themed — very strange to hear “America” and “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina” (the Madonna version, no less) blasting from the symbol of France. Apparently this year, it was disco themed. In lieu of fireworks and crowds, we celebrated French independence with a cozy dinner.
When I think of La Fête Nationale, I think… ribs. When I was growing up, my family always celebrated the birthday of our adopted nation with galbi, Korean short ribs — the flavor of the old country mixed with the Fourth of July barbecue tradition of the new country. I guess that’s what I was trying to do here. A tasty, sticky reminder of the good ol’ U. S. of A. while celebrating the liberté, égalité, fraternité of the French.