Sunday, 8 July 2018

French love Down Under



A quick post today, to share some photos from an inaugural Bastille Festival in Sydney. We celebrated a week early, but the love for France in Australia is in evidence as, not only were there large numbers around me today, but Brisbane is hosting a big festival this weekend, Melbourne hosts theirs on July 14 and 15, Circular Quay in Sydney celebrates over four big days Thurs 12 through to Sun 15 July, the Sunshine Coast holds their festival on the 28th July...and that is just a small selection of all of the parties, get-togethers, balls, special film sessions etc. to celebrate the French National Day Down Under. I was the guest of French Cargo and spent a lovely morning with Kathie signing books and chatting to her customers. I might just take this opportunity to say 'thank-you' to Kathie. She has been such a wonderful support for me and this writing venture.

***Purchase your copy of 'But you are in France, Madame', which takes you with us on our French adventure, at Amazon, here ***









Tuesday, 3 July 2018

A circular, culinary blog


I have lived and breathed the French language for a very long time. Yet, every once in a while,  a word comes my way that requires a bit of extra thought. I don't mean the words that are new to me but that I understand because of their context, or words that I have forgotten and that I can jiggle to the surface. I mean words that I know, but that don't seem to make sense in context. Writing about how to make a baguette last blog led me down several cooking related paths including to the salt farms of Brittany and the following:

La Fleur de Sel, Le Guérandais, est délicatement cueillie, selon une méthode traditionnelle millénaire, à la surface de l'eau des oeillets par les paludiers de Guérande. 

But, un oeillet is a carnation (or an eyelet). Of course, a carnation is a flower and the fine salt (La Fleur de Sel) that is being collected is so-called because of the flower-like patterns of the crystals that form in the salt crust as the seawater evaporates. But, this is somewhat of a false path.*

In fact, in the salt harvesting process, sea water passes through a succession of ponds and it is the final set of ponds that are known as the 'œillets'. Is this more related to the winding related to eyelets?





An interview with chef, Jamie Oliver, in which he talked about his mentor, a lady named Rose, came up in conversation. She was strong, kind, clever, someone who, according to Jamie, favoured simplicity and taught him to focus always on what he could do better. A 'salt of the earth' sort of person.

And then, absent-mindedly, I picked up a cook book that I have had on my coffee table for a very long time, but have probably never done anything more than flick through distractedly. I like the idea of cooking. I love the idea of being a good cook. But, sadly that is where the passion seems to start and stop. This time, though, I read the About section of the cookbook; a human story, which is of far more interest to me, and learnt that the writer/chef Patricia Wells and her husband's

"...love of France grew...Almost before we'd unpacked our bags in Provence, we had more French friends than we had made in all our time in Paris. Within a year, we could no longer even remember life before Provence. For us, it symbolised all the essential elements of happiness we sought in life - friends, family, food, and feasts."

Now, this was something that I could really relate to, and took me on a bigger wander around her book...which led to the Fleur de Sel.

Strangely enough, it was not just me baking last weekend, My FB posts attracted return comments from both Annette at A French Collection and Mardi from eat.live.travel.write who is about to publish a...cookbook.

*as far as I can tell - please do let me know if there is indeed a connection.

***Purchase your copy of 'But you are in France, Madame', which takes you with us on our French adventure, at Amazon, here ***

Friday, 22 June 2018

Make your own baguette




6 g salt
500 g plain flour
7 g yeast
450 ml warm water
...and that is it!

When we moved back from living in France to Australia, there were many things that we missed. So many, in fact, that it was a difficult period for us all. But, let's not dwell on that today. Instead, close your eyes and breathe in, listen to the crunch and taste the, nearly authentic, French bread that made us feel a little closer to our French home. Of course, you'll need to turn on the oven to as high as your oven will go, and chances are you'll look more longingly at the long, cylindrical shapes you create if you have on hand the nifty baguette trays (as ordered on line by yours truly). Don't forget to divide the dough into 3, score each loaf, set your timer for 18 minutes or so and then ahh..Miam! Miam!

One more hint: how to know when your water is warm enough? You can count to ten with your finger in the water and it doesn't burn. Like the precision of the technique? Let me know how you go.

***Purchase your copy of 'But you are in France, Madame', which takes you with us on our French adventure, at Amazon, here ***

Salt, flour, yeast and water and you are ready to go

Combine ingredients in order listed

After leaving to rise for a couple of hours
Flour your board, scoop out your risen dough
Ready to go
 knead away
and away
and away
and away
divide into 3 
shape, stretch and score
Taste test anyone?

Thursday, 14 June 2018

A pizza-vending machine out here?

Out and about in France, in a small village, not at all on the beaten track, we came across...a roadside pizza-vending machine. We were curious. After all, this wasn't the usual fine, fresh French food that we had grown to love. 
Article in France Today magazine. Would you have stopped to give it a go?


I don’t remember the exact moment that my husband and I decided that we should leave Australia with our three young children and try out France for a year, but I have no difficulty recalling our arrival in France with only one and a half of us speaking French (myself and our six-year-old son) and a burning enthusiasm for our new adventure. We had no family or work to go to, no friends to call on and no knowledge of the place that we had chosen to live (Giez, 22 km from Annecy in the Haute Savoie) and it is an indisputable truth that it was tough, in a gentle sort of way. After all, for each new discovery and surmounted challenge, we not only felt more settled, we also felt proud of what we had achieved, and that is always a good thing.
Alongside the difficult (finding accommodation, buying a car, understanding the school stationery list, driving on the right side of the road (but the wrong for us), doing research without an Internet connection), came the delightful. Our flat, bayside Melbournian suburb had been replaced by mountains; real mountains, not Australian-sized ones, in the middle of which was a lake and a town with canals, old stones, disorder, colourful markets, strange opening hours and different light and smells.
Shopping was no longer a thing to tick of the weekly to-do list. Buying food from the market, queueing at Carrefours or enjoying a stroll around a vide-grenier (village garage sale) became excursions and mostly the children enjoyed them as much as my husband and me. 
Years into our French living (one turned out to not be enough), there is no doubt that the supermarket has lost its novelty, but we still look forward to our market and vide-grenier outings. To know what it is on and where, we take a look at vide-grenier.org. Sometimes, our findings are not altogether expected, as was the case recently.



Monday, 11 June 2018

A Parisian Life - Part Two


I hope that you enjoyed Part One of my interview with Tahnee (@treasuredjourneysin which she talks about the decision to move her family from Australia to Paris for a year and gives many useful pointers regarding the preparation phase of this family adventure. If you missed it, you can find it here.  

In today's blog, Tahnee continues the story. Even though we haven't met, I have so enjoyed hearing about her family's experiences; many of which brought back memories of similar triumphs and struggles for my own family. 


You chose to live in Paris. This sounds very romantic and exotic. I’d love to hear why you chose Paris and some snippets from your Parisian life?

We chose Paris for our love of the city and, yes, it is so very romantic. There is beauty everywhere you look. There’s a village feel in each arrondissement so, even though it is a big city, it can feel intimate too. Every member of my family loves this city and, in my humble opinion, Paris truly is the most beautiful, wonderful, enchanting, interesting, history filled city. I have traveled a bit and Paris always takes my breath away. I never took it for granted, and every day we lived there I would reiterate this to my children. I would say to them as we walked around to breathe it all in and soak in all the beauty. Even in the car we looked at everything, as if it was the first time we were seeing things. Having a sunroof was awesome for being able to look up, too! Paris is everything you read about, every cliché, it is also what you want it to be. I believe that you make it yours, and if you have eyes of appreciation and a spirit of positivity, then the way you view things really reflects what you’re giving out. In effect, we saw Paris as food for our souls, so we were very well fed!

Our decision to move relied heavily on finding the right school for our children. We knew that this could make or break the experience for them. They needed to be happy, as this would be the place that they would spend the majority of their time. I had researched schools in France and, after a very long process of elimination, chose either Lyon or Paris. My husband and I visited both cities in May 2015 on our reconnaissance trip, but when we walked into the school in Paris, we knew instantly that it was the right one for them.

Initially, we were aiming for 18 months away. This we felt was too short a time to put the children into the French system. It would have taken a good six months or longer for them to acquire the language- so they probably wouldn’t have understood most subjects taught. We didn’t want to potentially set them up for failure, as this would have had a negative impact on them emotionally. If we were moving there for a few years, then yes, we would have gone down the road of the French schooling system. Instead, we chose the British school of Paris, where the curriculum was in English, but they were taught French there too. Joining after-school sports clubs where all communication was in French was a good compromise for us. (Although our son’s soccer coach hailed from Manchester, so when he had trouble understanding, some English was spoken!).

I needed a city that could keep me busy during the school day. There is so much to do and see in Paris; one can never be bored there, there is always something new to discover. Even sitting on a park bench and watching the sun change the way the tiles on roofs look, and the buildings reflected in different light, is magical. Something as simple as this made me happy. I didn’t need to be in a museum or shopping: just being there was enough, hearing French spoken, the ambience, just everything about the city made me happy. That said, most days we would set off to discover new areas, and walk the streets. Our compromise after the terrorist attacks, though, was that we drove quite a bit more. We had arrived in October 2015, three-and-a-half weeks before the Paris attacks, and this really shook us up. I was a little hesitant at first to use the metro, as I felt very vulnerable. My thought process was that if something happened and I was stuck underground and couldn’t get to my children, I’d freak out, which made me a little anxious. So we drove a lot and felt more in control. This proved to be invaluable as, rather than traveling underground, we saw where we were going, and really got to know the city quite well. I’d even say we got to know some sneaky side streets!

Going to the markets to buy food, not being allowed to touch produce, but having it being chosen for you wasn’t my greatest joy. You are sternly told off if you touch any fruit or vegetable or pick it up to smell it. I never took to this, as sometimes I would be given produce that I wouldn’t have chosen for myself. Needless to say, the French all seemed to accept this and waited patiently in long queues to purchase. 

There is a real sense of village life within a big city when you use the local markets. I got to know the vendors quite well, as I bought everything from individual sellers; the fruit and veggie lady, the cheese man, the baker, the butcher, the fishmonger etc, so food shopping was an entertaining time for me and the shopkeepers were all very tolerant of my French.

After some time, it was nice to see people that I knew or recognized on the streets or in shops, and so nice when sales assistants recognised me and made conversation.

With children in school there is a certain routine that you need to adhere to. My husband and I would explore during the day but as soon as school finished we were back to routine: sport training, homework, just like life back in Australia. But nearly every weekend, if there wasn’t any sport on, we travelled. We drove to different cities and loved exploring the beautiful country that we were calling home. We’d involve the kids and ask where they’d like to go, and found by doing this that they had more of an invested interest in where we were going. Our eldest son became quite good at researching nice restaurants to go to as well!

If we weren’t traveling on the weekends, we would go into Paris and once again explore. The kids all had favourite areas and places to go, so they would ask to go to these.

One thing I would laugh at was when tourists would ask me for help, thinking I was French (which I loved). They were almost always relieved to hear me answer them in English!

Life wasn’t all roses though. The French are very good at making simple things hard to achieve and do. In fact they having a saying, for this - 'pourquoi faire simple quand on peut faire compliqué' (why make it simple when you can make it complicated). Paperwork, no one taking responsibility and passing things onto other people who then refer you back to the person you have just seen, waiting in hospitals whilst all the French people were seen before us even after they arrived after us, plus a heap more interesting times were all a test of our patience. If patience isn’t your thing, you sure learn to get some after living in France.

A major difference between Australia and France is that in France in order to enroll your child in any physical activity, you need a doctor's certificate, stating that your child is fit to play or participate in the activity. I found this quite amusing. So, for every activity, a new certificate was required, and once the year was up, you needed to get another one! Needless to say many trips to our doctor were made for the compulsory fit-to-play slip.

As for swimming lessons - just forget it! I went to the pool to enroll my youngest son. Of course, I was told he needed a doctor's slip. I made an appointment that week and got the slip. Back at the pool, I was asked for the slip. "Yes here it is." Oh, now he needs to have a test. Right. When can we do that? Any day is good and any time. Fabulous. The following week, we presented ourselves for the test. First question - did I have the doctor's slip. "Yes, I am here for the test." "Great."At this point, she phoned through to the instructor, to then inform me that she was sorry but all classes were full! Remember that I mentioned being frustrated with processes? This was just one example.



You have three children. How easily did they make the transition into French living? Can you tell us a bit about their experiences of school, making friends, adjusting to new routines, food etc?

My children have always loved Paris, so moving there was met with excitement. Yes, there were many tears when we left home and there was a period of them being unsettled, missing family and friends, missing certain foods from home, missing our dog, and just missing Australia. Certainly, the terror attacks shook them all deeply. Never had I ever had a conversation with them about what they would do if a terrorist entered their school in Australia. But, after the attacks, these were confronting conversations we had to have, and also to give them advice on what to do in the unlikely event of this happening. They were all very scared to begin with, my daughter in particular. She would become so anxious and teary when we were in the city. Slowly they all regained confidence in the city we loved so much. It was a tough lesson in resilience. I said to them “the Parisians aren’t going anywhere, this is their home, and ours, too, now. We need to stay strong and continue living and not let this ruin our time here”. And so this is what we did. We continued our journey.

Once they all made new friends, life for them became very settled. The thing about going to a school where the majority are ex-pats, is that friendships are formed very quickly. Friends become like family, and their school was extremely inviting, inclusive and welcoming. My oldest two children had the privilege of going on school camps: my son to the Hautes-Alpes, south east of France near the Italian border and my daughter to the Ardèche, south of France. Due to the terror attacks, they couldn’t take the train so the school hired coaches and the usual three-hour trip took them eleven hours. They both came back saying the seven-day camp was one of their school highlights, and one-and-a-half years later, they still talk of it fondly.

They also all loved the school refectory! Lunch each day was a cooked meal: a meat, fish or vegetarian option plus salad bar and yoghurts. Lunchtime was a lot longer there, and very social. They shared a meal with their friends and sat and ate all together. My children miss this, as they say here in Australia kids are quick to eat and go off to play. They miss the social aspect of enjoying a nice meal together. I, too, miss not having to worry about lunchboxes! The food in France in general was never a difficulty for the children as they are used to eating a broad variety of cuisines. There was a lot to offer if you looked for good bistros and restaurants, and avoided the typical tourist traps!

My oldest son loves to play soccer. His school team won the championship for soccer playing against many other schools, international as well as French. He also made it to the final 16 boys to be chosen for the Paris St Germain junior training squad. These are memories he will treasure, I’m sure. 

Australian kids are quite sporty in general, with a lot of healthy competition. Whilst never excelling in sport in Australia, my daughter managed to do really well in France. She was the fastest girl swimmer in her year group in France, something she had never achieved in Australia. In fact, she wouldn’t even try to compete in Australia. So her confidence really grew in France, where she also played soccer. She was fortunate to be selected to sing solos in music concerts, participate in drama productions, and play her guitar in music concerts.

The school was co-ed, something that all my children weren’t used to, as they were at single-sex schools in Australia. They all really enjoyed this, and found it balanced things out. My daughter would often have a kick about with the boys at lunch and recess, and my youngest son had an army of girls willing to look after him, which he loved!

When it was time to leave Paris, they were all devastated. They didn’t want to return home. The sadness was heart breaking. Such strong friendships were formed, it was very, very hard to say goodbye. They all asked us not to take them back to Australia, they really wanted to stay in Paris. They had all grown up in different ways, and we were really seeing them start to blossom when it was time to leave. This was such a shame, I felt like we should have stayed for another 6 months (at least!). 

In our next and last conversation (Part Three), I ask Tahnee about some of the funny experiences that they had whilst living in Paris and, now that they are back in Australia, how they view their French adventure. Tahnee also has a few words to say to anybody who might be dreaming of doing something similar. Once again, thank-you Tahnee, for sharing your experiences so generously. 

A bientôt! 

Read Part One here and Part Three here 

PS If you would like to read more stories from our family's French adventure, please don't hesitate to contact me on cb222@me.com for a print copy of 'But you are in France, Madame' or click on the following link for a Kindle copy.