For this special event, we will be liveblogging throughout the day, a combined effort from Toodles, mah mommeh and me.
So, to give un peu de background infoz, my parents arrived in Paris Wednesday afternoon, and after a delicious dinner of Indian food on Thanksgiving proper, we are now in the process of creating an American Thanksgiving feast in this awesome (but completely empty of all relevant foodstuffs) Parisian apartment they are staying in, for my host family and a few Stanford friends.
10:30 am: Madre et padre wake up late, freak out that we don't have enough time, and go shopping. (I was in class) Mommeh here: Make that wake up at 10:30, realize that we have overslept by two hours and now only have 1 hour to do all our shopping because we are supposed to meet Clare at 12:30 across town to go to lunch with some friends We race to he market where we hunt for things like cinnamon which is not called cinnamon but cannelle...so no store personnel knows what Paul is talking about and we have to search the entire spice section until Paul finds a picture of a cinnamon stick on the front of the jar. We race back to the apartment, unload the groceries, then race to the metro and rush to meet Clare. Whew! We meet up with her as planned only to learn that our lunch with friends has been cancelled. Next trip we are bringing a cell phone that works in Paris.
12:30 pm: We meet up near the Thanksgiving store (it is literaly called Thanksgiving) and get some key ingredients they don't sell at Franprix, including a can of pumpkin guts, and an actual pie in case Mom and I are as bad at baking in French as Dad expects. So, thusly armed, we make our way back to the apartment with a couple other critical stops: ice cream for Mom, YOP and cookies for me, and a sandwich for Dad.
2:15 pm: Having decided we are taking too long to eat lunch, Mom comes in with the pie crust wrapper asking confusing questions to make us think she knows what she is doing, but when asked if she read the (French) directions, she comes up with a million ways to avoid saying no without actually saying yes either. Dad to the rescue, while I started the blog. I'm off to make sure the oven didn't explode when they turned it on to preheat. [Excusez-moi...for the record, my questions were not confusing. Clare and Paul were just not following my quick thinking and talking. I blame it in on the fact that Paul is still jet lagged and Clare has has been speaking French for the past several months and can't follow my sophisticated brilliant English.] (for the record, the brilliant English speaker just had to ask me how to spell "brilliant" to form that insulting and evidently false statement) For more record--the Stanford student has spells literally interestingly, ne c'est pas? pff. (1) you were rushing me, and (2) both your French and your English are questionable in that sentence. BTW, I hope all readers take note that I was the only person not dilly dallying eating my lunch but was instead out in the kitchen starting the pumpkin pie...the first real work in the kitchen today in preparation for this feast. Just saying.
2:25 pm: me: "Mom, can I show you how to do the blog?"
mommy (in her focused voice): "I can't right now honey, I'm at a CRITICAL JUNCTURE in my pie!" [And a fine looking pie it is, if I do say so myself...so far anyway.]
2:35 pm: mommy (gleefully): "Honey, I'm being a chef!!"
2:40: Paul: Your mother has pie on the wall! [Note: great cooks have to be creative and free form in the kitchen. So says the master pie maker]
2:45 pm Indigo girls playing as our Thanksgiving background music.
3:00 Panic moment--4 hours till people arrive. Clare and I are off to buy some missing ingredients for the gravy, wine and something else that I have already fogotten. (This was a bit optimistic, we have not left yet 15 minutes later) (3:22): They've yet to leave--Annie is headed to the shower....well, yes, looking presentable for company is just as important as cornstatch for gravy, wouldn't you agree?
3:07 pm: Mommy has started talking like a blog. I remarked upon the fact that she has been sitting at the computer for a while (as the cooking gets going) and she shrieked (excusez-moi encore: I do not shriek--ever!), "Would you write that down so I can rebut that, please?!" And after saying we need to have a sense of urgency, she added "which is one my favorite phrases". Well let me tell you: as her comparatively slow-moving family members, we are already VERY aware that it's her favorite phrase! It's only a favorite phrase because of my slow-moving family!
3:17pm Paul here. I am not used to having so many sous-chefs; I hope that too many cooks don't spoil the broth! RUDE. Clare's occasional experience as head cook at Columbae is showing! Cranberries are cooking. Dressing is partially made. Clare is cutting broccolli before heading to the market for gravy ingredients. Nothing here is quite the same. The oven control has numbers as opposed to degrees. Everything is measured in metric and often by weight rather than volume. The ideas of cups and ounces and teaspoons are foreign to the French, naturellement! It makes things challenging, but fun nonetheless. D'accord--back to work.....
5:23pm Cranberry sauce done, dressing ready to go in, sweet potatoes ready to go in, tian partially assembled, broccoli cut up. Clare and Annie are off trying to buy wine.... Still to go--mashed potatoes, gravy, and final push. ca. 2 hours til showtime!
6:26 pm: word from the host fam: they are en route! bathroom decluttering, tablesetting, wine opening! EXCITING! Mom thinks our pie is "going to win." :) Wait till you see the pictures! Clare, you are going to post a picture, right? yes mommy, we have to do something with the pictures from that photo shoot of you and your chef d'oeuvre.
6:49 pm: I think the food will be ok, although we just realized there is no potato masher...Mom wants to make everyone take a turn mashing with a fork when they arrive, because as she put it "if I got there and they gave me a task I would be much more comfortable." (um. I don't know what to say to that.) and now she is practicing "French." At least she starts off with "Je ne parle pas francais".. For the record,.I did learn to say "Merci pour tous ce que vous avez fait pour Clare" and managed to say it (painfully slowly) to Clare's host mother and sister when they arrive. But I forgot to preface it with the "Je ne parle pas francais" --not a problem since that was immediately obvious as soon as I started talking.
6:53 pm: It's almost GO TIME!
7:00 pm: this is redundant but IT'S 7PM!!!!! remind me not to be a social organizer in my old age. I would certainly have a heart attack. whee!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING +1 everyone!
We love you all!
Check back later for more commentary/details from once cooking got intense! And summary of how the dinner went! Mom is very worried she won't get to finish "rebutting". And Dad has "one quick comment to make on there, lovebug." SO, a toute a l'heure!
(7:03 pm: photo shoot of mommy and her beauuuuutiful pie)
LOVE from Paris,
Annie, Paul, and Clarebear
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