Thanksgiving in France

Thanksgiving, a day for being home with family, eating ridiculous amounts of food and being thankful for what we have. I am very thankful for my experience here in France. I’ve successfully eaten my way through my sejour, gleaning a much broader French vocabulary and comfort with the language and the people. I’ve made my way through some truly amazing French culture, movies, books, classes and a bit of travel. And its not quite over yet!
Last night, the other California students and I were invited to a Thanksgiving dinner put on by our program along with the Association Bordeaux-USA and the consulate. It was held in a collège or junior high school, which caused some fear on my part with visions of cafeteria food and strange ladies in hairnets dolling out the day’s mystery meat on plastic trays. Unfortunately we were in the cafeteria and there cooks were wearing hairnets and white lab coats, but there were tablecloths, real silverware and we were served the meal at the table.
However, the idea of a traditional thanksgiving has not quite been perfected yet, despite our program’s long experience with Americans.
The meal began with mingling and aperitifs. We got to see our fellow students, most of who had disappeared into Bordeaux seemingly without a trace, and see how people have changed. There were many looking very French with new clothes and (for the girls) and newfound ability to wear heels. A few people were looking thinner, a few a bit plumper from the amazing French food. One guy is growing a moustache and had curled it up at the ends for the occasion.
We sat down for our meal, the Americans clustering together in groups, and the French in their groups. An undrinkable red wine was on the table, and in true college student fashion, my table-mates attacked the bottle without restraint. It is at this point that the “traditional” dinner was to begin.

First course: a salad. Seems normal, right? Not necessarily when there are crevettes (shrimp) with their heads and exoskeletons still attached sitting on the plate along with the carrots, cucumber and one leaf of lettuce.


Second course: the main dish with turkey, stuffing, potatoes, Brussels sprouts and cranberry sauce. This at least seemed slightly normal; sure the turkey was rather dry, as were the 3 tiny potatoes and no gravy in sight to cover it up, and the stuffing just wasn’t “like mama used to make” but at least they had the components right. It’s not like there aren’t many families in the States who badly cook their bird or who pull out an old family recipe for stuffing that makes you wonder if there is any history of mental illness in the family. That’s part of the charm of the holiday season.

Third course: a small bowl with a wedge of cheese artistically placed on a leaf of lettuce. Last time I checked, there was no cheese course at thanksgiving, but hey, “when in Rome” (or France, rather) ….

the french would be lost without the cheese course

Fourth and final course: a proudly presented pumpkin pie. We each receive our plate, confused. What is it? Looking around the room all the Americans have a strange look on their face, ranging from a hopeful puzzlement to near horror. It’s not the right color or texture, and what are those bits in the filling? Nuts? One of our program directors asks us plein d’espoir (full of hope), “Is this right? We try every year to make a traditional American pumpkin pie but it’s never quite right, did we get it right this year?” Unfortunately, no. And unfortunately many plates went back to the kitchen barely touched. (to be fair, it wasn't terrible, it just wasn't what we were expecting)

this is not pumpkin pie

Despite the deviations from what we might consider a normal Thanksgiving dinner, it was good to touch base with other people in the program, compare notes on our “French Experience.” It was an excellent validation that I’ve been doing things right and that it seems as if my sejour has been a greater success than many of my compatriots. For that, and for French pastries, I am truly thankful.