Christmas in France

I recently read a BBC News Online article about Christmas in France which paid particular attention to French Christmas cuisine: - rightly so, as it is far superior to what is available in the Anglo-Saxon world.  As mentioned in a previous blog post, Provence has some unique Christmas traditions of its own.  With the advent season drawing to a close, I will explain them (also with a focus on the culinary aspects), explaining where things are different in our family because we subscribe to reformed Christianity (rather than the false doctrines of the Church of Rome): - the 1689 confession, available in English and French, amongst other languages, is one of the few good things to come out the UK.

Some reformed Christians in France are too indifferent to celebrate Christmas, given the lack of a biblical obligation to do so.  There is nothing wrong with this, as clarified by Romans 14:5.  Me personally, I think Christmas has been a great thing, given its success in supplanting the pagan feast of Mithras: - it has been so successful that few people even know what that was about today.  In any case, as reformed Christians, there are very few special days in the calendar.

Bilal has no Christmas traditions of his own, as he is a Muslim convert.  Upon his conversion to Christianity, he refused to celebrate Eid-al-Adha and Eid-al-Fitr (two Islamic festivals), which naturally caused friction, but I think his family is thankfully now resigned to the fact that he is not going to regress to Islam.

Traditionally, Provence has Le Gros Souper ("Lou Gros Soupa" in the local dialect), eaten before Midnight Mass (an Anglo-Catholic Tradition that we don't practice).  Le Réveillon is traditionally started after midnight on the night of the 24th/25th of December following Midnight Mass.  Whilst we don't have Midnight Mass, Le Gros Souper and Réveillon mirror the traditional timings with us.  Historically Church of Rome nations tend to finish their celebrations after that, with historically protestant nations (particularly Anglo-Saxon ones) having more on the 25th.  As a result, we tend to have a Christmas Day service instead of a Midnight Mass, so we plan our overnight stays so as not to be too tired for church the next morning (Christmas Day was on a Sunday this year).  This year's Réveillon and Déjeuner de Noël (Christmas Lunch) were relatively short, given the church activities on the Sunday.

Santa Claus is known as Père Noël ("Père" = "Father" and "Noël" = "Christmas") in France and children leave shoes, rather than stockings, for him.  As far as I know, nobody in our church bothers with this: - we tell our children early on what we want them to believe and what we don't, as there is enough confusion in our atheistic societies about what we should believe.  We want them to believe in God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, so we tell our children about them, but we tell our children as early as possible that Santa Claus/Père Noël is based on Nicholas of Myra (Turkey), who was a bishop (in the incorrect Church of Rome/so-called Orthodox understanding of the word) many centuries ago and not alive today.

I said I would write about culinary tradition and haven't said much so far, so I will start.

Christmas meals in France tend to observe standard customs for apéritifs and digestifs, the former supposedly being to stimulate the appetite (admittedly not always desirable for a dainty Frenchwoman such as myself) and the latter to aid digestion.  As far as I know, there is no scientific basis for either, but that misses the point: - we French have a very sophisticated consumption of alcoholic beverages.  Obviously, champagne featured heavily: - though I long for the day when Provence produces alcoholic beverages as world-renowned as those of the historical Champagne region, like any Frenchwoman, I just adore champagne.  I just remembered that I am overdue a visit to Reims: - I am tired of hearing silly Anglo-Saxon people pronouncing it "raymz" (it is pronounced "ranz").

Canapés (known as amuse-bouches if they are free in an eating establishment) feature very heavily in French parties, particularly at Christmas, though I must admit, to a dainty Frenchwoman such as myself, they often make up a full meal!  Bilal has been into strongman training for many years and therefore tends to have a meal before a party, so that he is content to just have canapés until the meal is served, but I admit, France hasn't always been progressive regarding gluten-free cookery, so he often goes without: - poor Bilal!  I try to push people to accommodate him though, so as to expand his repertoire beyond jollof rice, MDR.  Canapés generally consist of bread, pastry or a cracker.  They tend to be salty or spicy, so as to get people to buy more drinks, but in most societies, it is the custom for savoury food to be served before sweet food anyway.  Vol-au-vents (above) are a very common canapé: - there are so many different fillings that go well with them, such as cream cheese, paté, fish paste etc.

Foie gras is a common French Christmas tradition, but it is not an acceptable food for us as Bible believers.  Granted, there are at least 10 passages in the New Testament saying all foods are acceptable to eat, but the cruelty inflicted on the ducks and geese (force-feeding so their livers become 10 times their normal size) is not something I can stomach (pun intended): - Proverbs 12:10 says that a good man is kind even to his animals.  However, we are more than happy to have paté where we have reasonable confidence in the welfare of the animals (a real Frenchwoman always looks into the provenance of her food, even if she might have a "bof" attitude towards animal welfare).  Given the coastal location of Provence, we often like fish-based patés, but they can be made with so many different fish, meat, vegetables etc.

Mireille Guiliano is absolutely correct when she talks about a Frenchwoman's preference for oysters (another Christmas food).  Given that only a small part of the physical area taken up is actually meat, they are a great way for a dainty Frenchwoman to eat less than she thinks and maintain her dainty figure.  There are various ways to season oysters, but even when eaten without seasoning, their taste is absolutely divine.  I expect to be making a few more visits to cities such as Brest to enjoy the oysters when the LGV Bretagne opens later this year: - I am hoping the timetable will be set up to allow good connections via stations such as Marne la Vallée-Chessy to avoid needing to cross Paris between Gare de Lyon and Gare Montparnasse stations.

Like the Anglo-Saxon world, turkey is very common at Christmas, though the chestnut stuffing is the main difference.  Silly British people tend to use bread-based stuffing, which is not feasible with Bilal (unless made with gluten-free bread).

Christmas logs (Bûches de Noël) are common (more so than the Anglo-Saxon world): - thankfully, most people have forgotten the pagan Yule festival that this tradition ultimately comes from, though maybe I would have reservations if it stirred up an interest in pagan culture again.  Silly British people tend to have a chocolate cream covering, but in France, people are much more sophisticated than that.  French Christmas logs have much richer flavours, including orange zest and cherry confit, plus their colours are much brighter.

Putting Provence's fantastic regional dishes to one side for one moment, various other French regions have unique Christmas dishes.  All of these dishes mentioned in the article I love, admittedly not as much as those from Provence.  They are: -

• Capon (castrated rooster from Lauragais, between Toulouse and Carcassonne)
• White sausages (from Rethel in Champagne-Ardenne)
• Venison (deer meat from Sarthe, southwest of Paris)
• Sea bass (southwestern France)
• Stuffed goose (Alsace)
• Lobster (Brittany)

I admit I haven't been to Toulouse very often, since it is not particularly easily accessible by train, particularly from Marseille.  However, I have managed to try capon.  Silly Anglo-Saxon people mock us when we claim we know from the taste if the rooster was castrated early in life: - I can confirm that we can tell, MDR.

Bilal came with me on a visit to Reims a while ago and was wary of the white sausages, as he was in the UK visiting his homies in Stratford and tried local sausages (silly British people stuff sausages with bread) and fell ill.  However, I checked and double-checked on his behalf that they were gluten-free, so we had them and he really liked them.

Venison is reasonably common in the UK, but the French method of preparation is far superior to the English one.  Interestingly, it was the Normans who introduced the term, MDR!  Sea bass and lobster are not unique to France either, but the preparation is far superior to anywhere else: - in France, a chef's trade is treated as a skilled craft, unlike pretty much anywhere else.

Stuffed goose (which uses apples, chestnuts and citrus fruits) is an acquired taste as far as silly Anglo-Saxon people are concerned.  In the run-up to Christmas, some English clients visited the Paris office of my magazine.  They were what are known in Britain as remoaners (a portmanteau of "remain" and "moan"), people who can't accept that the democratic will of the British people regarding Brexit, and therefore wanted to visit the European parliament whilst they were there.  They liked to act like they were cultured and aware, but didn't realise that this is in Strasbourg, not Paris!  Duh!  We therefore stepped on a train and were in Strasbourg 1h48m later (around 540km away).  They asked to try a local dish, so I found a restaurant serving stuffed goose.  They hated it because of all the sweet flavours: - silly Anglo-Saxon people struggle to understand sweet main courses.  For dessert, we had Alsatian Kouglof, which they didn't like either, as they were expecting something super-sweet, which turned out to be only a mildly-sweet brioche, MDR!

The desserts mentioned in the article are: -

• Berawacka (Christmas fruit cake from Kayersberg, Alsace)
• Calissons (I will cover this later)
• Guinettes (sour cherries soaked in brandy and with a chocolate coating from Aquitane)
• Mendiants (I will cover this later)

Christmas cake and pudding in the UK have some similarities with Berawacka, though they are nowhere near as sophisticated (my British visitors liked these).  Guinettes are always great for a Frenchwoman looking to make a meal with an air of sophistication for very little effort (soak the cherries, then melt the chocolate in a bain-marie before dipping the cherries inside).

Onto Provençal Christmas dishes.

As mentioned, we have Les Treize Desserts, which often feature calissons, a sweet made of ground almonds and candied fruit, topped with icing.  Aix-en-Provence is famous for producing these: - you can get there via the local TGV station, but if arriving from the Paris direction, it is easier to go to Marseille and catch a TER (34 minutes) to the town centre station, particularly as some trains don't stop at Aix-en-Provence TGV.

I am not so fond of the superstition that traditionally existed with Les Treize Desserts (representing Christ and the 12 apostles), e.g. breaking the fougasse bread (1/13), rather than cutting it, so as to avoid being indebted.  Some people regard such an act of memory as being an act of religious devotion, but we regard such superstition as being badly unbiblical.

Nougat was traditionally eaten at Christmas, though less exclusively now.  Provence is famous for this, though a town famous for the production thereof (Montélimar) is just outside Provence.  Nougat is the soft variety (with eggs) and nougatine is the hard variety (without).  There are also white and black varieties: - hazelnuts, pine nuts or pistachios with white nougat and almonds and honey with the black.  Bilal loves nougat, as he likes sweet foods, but his coeliac disease limit his options (nougat being one).

Mendiants traditionally accounted for 4/13 of the desserts, the colours representing the gowns worn by the 4 separate monastic orders: dry figs (Franciscans), almonds (Carmelites), raisins (Dominicans) and hazelnuts (Augustinians).  There is a chocolate variant where one of each is put on top of a chocolate disc.  If I make them, I deliberately do numbers other than four, given our distaste for the Church of Rome.

Dates (representing Christ's eastern origins) are common and often stuffed with almond paste.  Another option for Bilal: - almond flour is a good substitute for wheat flour in cakes.  Quince paste and other fresh fruits are common, depending on local availability.

We had a very traditional Provençal Christmas, save for the exceptions mentioned.  Bilal is slowly warming up to this, given his family's traditional calendar.  Bilal wanted to celebrate Christmas more, but his parents made this difficult.  Now he is living with me, he is not subject to the same familial pressures.  He invited family members to join us: - naturally, they refused, just as we did with their Eid celebrations.  They find it difficult to accept that Bilal's new life with me and our son living away from their family home means it is harder to apply familial pressure.  In spite of all this, we had an absolutely fantastic first Christmas with our son and I look forward to many more traditional Provençal Christmases with Bilal and our children by our sides.

French Christmas dinner is more stylish than any other

This year, I ate Christmas dinner with my own family plus Bilal: - his stupid parents won't have anything to do with Christmas.  Granted, some reformed Christians had no time for Christmas either, viewing it as an extra-scriptural obligation.  Charles Spurgeon dissented from this view to a small extent, saying, "However, I wish there were ten or a dozen Christmas-days in the year; for there is work enough in the world, and a little more rest would not hurt labouring people."

Eating Christmas dinner (known in French as "Le Gros Souper" and "Lou Gros Soupa" in Provençal), I thought to myself about how stylish we French are when it comes to what we eat at Christmas.  Le Gros Souper is traditionally eaten before Midnight Mass (which we don't have, as it is too Roman Catholic).

A recent survey showed that the British Christmas dinner was the least healthy in Europe and the French Christmas dinner the healthiest!  See!  Even the British media can't help but tell everyone how impossibly perfect we French are.  We don't want to put rubbish into our bodies, but we really do go to town when it comes to preparing proper Christmas dinners.  As I was born and raised in Provence, we naturally had the Thirteen Desserts.  No!  I do not mean thirteen excessively sweet desserts such as cupcakes as some stupid Americans might be inclined to think upon reading this!  In Provence, we are far more sophisticated than that.  Sweet things are not completely off the menu: - I make mention of Calisson, a Provençal dessert which is made of candied fruit and royal icing.  As you can see below, they are naturally made in dainty sizes that are appropriate for French women with dainty figures such as myself.

For people who cannot get by without sweet foods, a Frenchwoman also likes nougat blanc and nougat noir au miel at Christmas.  As for main courses, we have things including smoked salmon, chestnut stuffed turkey, roast chicken and that delicious French dish Foie Gras.  Hopefully nobody was daft enough to think we Frenchwomen would go fat-free at Christmas!  A Frenchwoman loves rich foods like Foie Gras and would never consider low-fat low-flavour options!

We do enjoy some healthy options as part of a traditional French Christmas dinner though.  These include melons, oranges, apples, pears etc.  Nuts are also included, particularly in Les Treize Desserts.  The British and Americans tend to buy them in huge quantities and so they are no longer regarded as a delicacy like they used to be.  It is the same with fruit.  In the immediate post-war era, British children were content with things like oranges in their christmas stockings, but now they want the latest X-Box One, PS4 and Wii-U games.  I would refer them to the book "Why French Children Don't Talk Back" by Catherine Crawford to remind them of the fact that we French know what we are talking about in everything, even child-raising.

As you can see above, Les Treize Desserts tends to include that delicious Provençal bread fougasse.  When I visited Asda in Gravesend a few weeks ago to teach the chav single mother how to feed her children properly, I came across some really awful imitations of French bread, but I am glad that I am in Marseille with proper fougasse easily available.  I couldn't stand being away from real bread for too long.  I don't know how I managed to get by in London being away from all these stylish foods as long as I did!  A Frenchwoman just adores (in the non-religious sense of the word) fougasse!

Let me not forget another dish (discussed somewhat out of sequence I know) is aigo boulido, another delicious thing that results in me feeling homesick when I am away from Provence for too long.  We French do not like to waste food and this is something we do with stale bread.  The ingredients are stale bread, fresh garlic, olive oil, salvia and water.  The end result is the stale bread soaked in the delicious juices made from the other ingredients.

One French tradition I am not so happy about is le cacho fio.  This is roughly equivalent to the British tradition of the Yuletide log.  The reason I don't like this is its very clear links to paganism, especially as it includes a libation (the pouring out of an alcoholic drink in honour of a god/deity or someone who has died).  Yes, it mentions God's holy name, but it is too heavily steeped in the occult for me to take it seriously as a religious prayer.  Also, the idea of pouring out a drink for God is pointless: - firstly, he created it anyway and secondly, as Jesus has offered his sacrifice once and for all on the cross (as Hebrews 10 makes clear), libations are absolutely pointless.  The ceremony involves the youngest person present reciting the following words (who is old enough to talk, MDR): -
"Alegre, Diou nous alegre, Cachofue ven, tout ben ven, Diou nous fague la graci di veïre l'an que ven Se sian pas mai que siguen pas men." (Provençal)
"Soyons joyeux, Dieu nous garde joyeux, Cacho feu vient, tout bien vient, Dieu nous fasse la grâce de voir l'an qui vient, Si nous sommes pas plus, que nous ne soyons pas moins." (French)
"May we be happy, God keep us happy, [if] Cacho's fire comes, every good thing comes, may God grant us the grace to face the year ahead, whether we be nothing more, or whether we be nothing less." (English)

But anyway, apart from le cacho fio, everything we French do when it comes to Christmas is infinitely more stylish than anything anyone else does, even if French society has become too atheistic to remember anything about why we are celebrating Christmas in the first place.  I am so glad I am not celebrating Christmas in a decidedly unstylish country such as the USA or UK.  I remember the Christmas I spent in the USA on business.  Apart from the substandard biscuits and sweets at parties, I remember a disgusting drink called eggnog.  I was shocked to see a photo of an eggnog carton with French writing on it in Wikimedia commons.  It appears that my francophone cousins in Québec have regrettably fallen for some awful American customs.  Why couldn't they keep in touch with their stylish French ancestry?  Who knows?

All in all, a lovely traditional French Christmas, minus le cacho fio.  Bilal enjoyed it.  He has always been a solitary person and as mentioned, his family has little enthusiasm for celebrating Christmas.  However, he said he really enjoyed the company of myself and my family.  In the unlikely event we want something different for Christmas next year, we could ask him to cook, though as Mali has always been a majority pagan nation (yes, Islam falls into that category), there isn't really any such thing as a traditional Malian Christmas dinner.  However, some Malian foods sound lovely and natural, such as Meni-meniyong, foutou banane, foutou igname etc, even if they aren't as stylish as French cuisine!  MDR.

French lunchtime rituals

One thing that has been cause for concern as of late is the decline of French lunchtime rituals.  A Frenchwoman knows that rushing one's meals, particularly in the Anglo-Saxon style, can lead to what Mireille Guiliano calls "mindless eating", i.e. where people consume huge amounts and have become so distracted by things around them that they forget to concentrate on their food and end up consuming more of it, given that it has escaped their attention that they are consuming it.  A Frenchwoman likes to savour the moment and mealtimes are no exception.  The picture below is named "Pereza Andaluza" ("Andalusian laziness") and was painted by Julio Romero de Torres around 1900 or so.  I recall seeing it during one of my visits to Andalusia (known as "Andalucía" in Spanish and "Andalousie" in French), though Andalusia is a subject for another blog post.  Though it is a shame I cannot think of a similar painting done by a French artist about France, I think this painting captures very well the way a Frenchwoman loves to savour the moment and enjoy it, rather than rush around American-style saying "time is money, time is money".

The article describes people falling into American ways of working, i.e. rushing for a quick bite to eat and then wolfing it down in a couple of minutes and then resuming one's work.  It is very worrying that French women are falling into American habits.  If living like this, the only way to have an impossibly dainty figure like mine (or that of another quintessential Frenchwoman) is to starve oneself or take dieting pills or something else that is disagreeable to a Frenchwoman seeking to have as much pleasure in life as possible.  France needs to protect itself against American imperialism by keeping its own habits.  Yes, one needs to get a large amount of work done to maintain one's standard of living, but a Frenchwoman knows how to work efficiently, so that she isn't drawn into American habits.

But you don't know what is necessary to have a successful business, I hear people cry.  I do not run my workplace in the Anglo-Saxon style, though I must admit I am nevertheless a diva like Miss Anna Wintour, the British-born editor of the US version of Vogue, one of my competitors!  MDR!

At my workplace, we are not completely rigid about our working hours, as some people make French people out to be.  Obviously, if there is an important fashion show taking place outside of office hours (many of them seem to be mid-evening), then we need to make sure we are properly represented.  However, employees of mine who work beyond the standard 35-hour week tend to receive negative attention from me for not being competent and efficient enough at their jobs to get their work done within 35 hours.  I invest in various things to ensure that my employees can do this.  I send them on organisational skills courses to help them manage their workload and strategically work out what does and does not need to be done in the first place.  Touch-typing courses are a favourite with me as well, given that writing is pretty much what we do (not forgetting photography though).

Ok, so fashion shows require us to do stuff out-of-hours, but on a normal working day, we do not rush lunch or stay in.  French schools are known for having very long hours and some schools run from 8AM to 6PM.  When new employees start with me, just in case they have children, I give them a list of local schools that have timetables from 8AM to 6PM, so that we can observe proper lunchtime rituals the way Frenchwomen do.  In our premises, we have a list of markets and when they are on.

The market picture above is French, though it is in Cherbourg (a place with a much cooler climate, hence the coats), not my beloved Marseille, but never mind.  Anyway, regardless of whether or not it is a market day, we will normally start the working day at 8.30AM, leaving the employees with children half an hour or so to get into the office after dropping off their children.  If there is a market that day, we will take an hour for our lunch break (12PM-1PM) and have a light lunch, normally in a café on the edge of the Vieux Port: - when I say light, I mean light by French standards!  MDR!  This means we finish work at 4.30PM to allow time for combing the markets for the choicest ingredients before picking children up from school.  If there is no market that day, we will take a two-hour lunch break (12PM-2PM) and finish at 5.30PM (leaving half an hour for employees with children to reach their childrens' schools).  During the lunch break, we tend to eat at local brasseries.  I know all the restaurants in the local area and when it comes to the ones with the best food and atmosphere, I strike up relationships with them, meaning that they feed us a low price to my business (sometimes, good food costs less; a slogan for a horrible British supermarket chain) in exchange for regular custom.  Free meals is a perk I give my employees and if one is tough in negotiations with the restaurant, a perk like this need not cost the earth.  During these brasserie meals, we enjoy all the local culinary delights that Provence offers.  Such as what?  Bouillabaise for starters!  Corny pun I know, MDR!

Bouillabaise is probably the dish that Marseille is most famous for.  It is traditionally made up of a large number of different types of fish and is, for want of a better word (English culinary vocabulary is limited), a fish soup.  It is absolutely delicious and when living in London building up my fashion career, I found I needed to go back to Marseille every so often and get my bouillabaise fix!  MDR!

Pissaladière (a dish vaguely related to pizza) is closely associated with Nice, though it is fairly common in many areas of Provence.  Unsophisticated Americans might compare it to a deep-pan pizza!  Yuck!

Aïoli and olives are two things we like to eat as part of meals, though only the Provençal varieties are of sufficient quality for our palates.  Another thing we like to have as a side is Fougasse, that very Provençal bread.  Yuppies visiting my magazine's premises from the UK and USA tend to bleat about being gluten intolerant or having coeliac disease when this comes along, but I ignore their grumblings regarding their phoney yuppie diseases and order more!  MDR!

Did I forget to mention that we always have such things in local brasseries/cafés accompanied by Pastis de Marseille?  No meal in Marseille would be complete without Pastis de Marseille.  Anglo-Saxon visitors with inadequately developed palates tend to moan endlessly about its strong flavour, but I say that an inability to like Pastis de Marseille is a sign that one's palate is not sophisticated enough!

To conclude this blog, all I need to say is that lunchtime is a time for intense pleasure and no business objectives could possibly be important enough to sacrifice the pleasure a Frenchwoman, with her sophisticated palate, gets from eating lunch in a high-quality brasserie or café.