The first Noël

So here I am at the Moulin for Christmas. We will be heading to Audrey's mother's house for Christmas, but we are having lunch first. Bear in mind that of course all conversation is in French and, while I am getting better all the time, I cannot discuss things at a particularly deep level. Also this is the first Christmas that Papa's boyfriend is a physical entity (me) and I am doing my best to keep up good appearances and not to rock the boat in any way.

So, in the middle of the meal Audrey turns to me and, with the family attentatively listening asks, " So, Edward, do you believe in God?"

WTF!!  What do I do with that? In the best of times this is a loaded question. Do I say what I really think and discuss the whole religious machine and whereas I may believe there is something out there, I cannot subscribe to adding fuel to that foul machine? In French?? Do I go with an easy yes or no? If so, do I say yes because it may be easy? No because it may be more aligned to my feelings in that everyone's view of "God" is not at all my view?

Well I go with a timid, "Maybe no?" I think this at be best to keep the discourse simple. She wanted to know if I wanted to go to midnight mass with her and her mother. Oh! No, thank you so much. 

I am happy to report that Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day lunch were both delightful. Well, partially happy because I was hoping for some drama but, no, it was all delicious and very civilized, but not without its interesting details. I am greeted at the home of Monik and Jean-Pierre by Jean-Pierre. He speaks some English and begins to give me a tour of his collection of erotic art. Yes, every little statue with a phallus, or monk with a hidden phallus that extends when you press a magic button, or the nuns with dresses that open to reveal a naked buttocks is on display in his study. I get a laugh out of this, but it also reaffirms my theory that the world looks to France for things sexual and that the people here secretly revel in it. Not that France does not have its set of prudes. Recently, there was a gigantic butt plug (I think it was red) in the Place de Vêndome and some circles complained vehemently. It was taken down, but maybe just because its time was up. Not sure.

So after that amusing moment, I meet Monik (mother of Audrey) as well, and her mother Jeannette (whom everyone calls Mami). They are both warm and amusing and talk French slowly so I can understand (slower than I need, but, hey, I'll take it). Audrey is there with all the kids (Anastasia, Stoyan, Ludwig and Corto) and they all greet me warmly. I want to help out, so I ask Monik what I can do. I get to cut up the mushrooms. She also asks my advice on how I think they should be cut and if we should cook them in butter or olive oil. What a sweet woman. I hope I answered correctly (butter, of course). 

Naturally we have a champagne toast (aperitif, bien sûr!) with some noshes. There is a pain surprise, which is a round layer-cake of sandwiches cut in pie shapes, each layer is another flavor. I lucked out and get foie gras. I think of my ex, Jim, every time I eat fois gras. The first time he and I went to Paris, he had it every lunch and dinner for 10 days he loved it so.

Soon, it is time to go to the table. It is Christmas and the menu is fish heavy, with entrée of oysters (hûitre) and smoked salmon. (NOTE: In France the word Entrée means appetizer, not main course. It means, "entry" so their use is more correct than the English.) There is a slight moment of drama, as Monik thinks the fish monger has shortchanged her the number of oysters (of course there is the latin temperament!). This course is served with a wonderful white wine from their wine cellar, a vintage from 2001. When I commented on the wine, Monik looked at me like, "Well of course it is wonderful." Not sure if the complement was appreciated or thought of as strange. It was good enough to comment on though.

After the entrée comes the main course, which is a Pintade, or in English a "Guinea Fowl." I never see this on American menus, but it is a bird of some kind and seems to be the fowl of choice for celebrations, something like the US Turkey (which I have never seen on a menu here). It is served with the mushrooms I cut up and chestnuts. Chestnuts have never been a favorite  for me as I don't find the texture of them very compelling. But I pushed them around on my plate as we all do with things we are not overly fond of (Helmut got a couple hoisted on him). Dessert? Bûche de Noël which is a cake role. Monique doesn't find it appealing. I understand, but eat it anyway. It is chocolate after all. 

Helmut and I are staying at a house of a friend who is absent, but we agree it feels like the house of a serial killer, complete with basement. We try to ignore this, and get some sleep.

The next day is Christmas, so we are back for the food. Again, a champagne toast. For an entrée, this time Monik brings escargot and an entire platter (yes, platter!) of foie gras. That is something I have never seen in the US as it it very expensive and not to everyone's taste (why I will never know). Large slices passed around. There is even some left over. I had two helpings. The main course is trout ceviche (raw fish cooked in lemon or lime juice) with a ginger lemon sauce. It was lovely. Dessert was either the Bûche de Noël again or a strawberry mouse cake. It was all very lovely.

We left for Paris soon after. I could not have wished for a more welcoming reception with Helmut's family. I don't know what the talk was after we left, but I don't care. I try and live by the idea that your opinion of me is none of my business. You can think what you want and I don't want to know.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. On to the New Year.