By the time I made my first trip to France, I was already an adult married lady, not the free-wheeling, junior-year-abroad backpacker I had imagined I would be. Somehow, that whole rite of passage escaped me. Instead, almost ten years later, my husband and I took a train from San Sebastian to Bordeaux so I could at least get a glimpse of France and have a meal or two before we returned to the US.
'Poof!' shrugged the talkative Parisian who shared our seating cubby. 'Why go anywhere but Paris?' Nonetheless, I was very excited, so curious and antsy. Not about the art or the architecture or my terrible French. What I wanted to know was: What would my first meal in France be like? You see, I had read — practically devoured — Mmes Child, Fisher and David and I knew one's first meal in France was an absolutely pivotal experience.
I imagined a civilized lunch in a little bistro with white linens, a stuffy waiter and several courses, including one that would be an omelet and another consisting of a whole fish. We would drink lots of wine and eat fruit and cheese for dessert.
My nervousness grew as we crossed the border from Spain into France. Bordeaux was a famous wine region — surely this meant the food would be amazing, too? We pulled into Bayonne for a brief scheduled stop...and stayed there for several hours. The train needed repair, and we were all asked to disembark.
So I stumbled off the train, and into the train station and my first ever meal in France: a baguette cut in half, smeared with pate, dotted with crunchy cornichon and served up by a skinny, stiletto-heeled waitress with dark circles under her eyes and a deep, flirty laugh. My legs dangled off the high stool as we sat at the counter of the Bayonne train station's cafe. We were surrounded by French train yard workers, dressed in their dark blue coveralls, smoking cigarettes and drinking their mid-morning glass of wine.
It was perfect. It was heaven. It was, after all, my first meal in France.
To this day, whenever I want to touch the feeling of that moment — the excitement, the adventure, the joy of that meal and its unpredictable outcome — I just buy a decent baguette, spread it with some pate and cornichon and sit at my San Francisco apartment window, my head filled with memories. The only thing missing is Colette the waitress and the smell of cigarette smoke...and my husband.
(Image: Dana Velden)
Oh I expected a post about New Jersey...
view pbelardo's profile
I'll always remember my first meal in France as well. We were dog tired, recently married and travelling with my inlaws. Foolishly, we had slept upon our arrival, and woke near dinner like bears from a slumber. We staggered into the sunshine and it being a somewhat early hour for dinner, we ended up in a dingy bar that my father-in-law selected. I had resolved to go with the flow and try whatever presented itself, so I ordered the plat du jour, although as best I could translate it was cold fish with mayo. The resident drunk was dispatched to hustle some fresh bread, the table was set with some dignity by the bartender/owner and we were treated to an amazing meal complete with animated conversation from the very drunk regular. His only comprehensible English was a Gallic shrug and "It's my life." He compensated for his lack of vocabulary by saying that a lot. My wife and still use this line to each other twenty some years later and I don't think we'll ever forget that meal. Thanks for reminding me -- I'm going to call my wife and tell her "it's my life" now.
view MikeLaw's profile
Yes, I thought NJ too. And I wonder where the husband went, is it insensitive to ask? Or were we supposed to ask?
view Matilda's profile
March 1980s... late evening dinner, even for Paris. I had just arrived. Small family-owned Bistro near the Louvre. Steak tartare, cornichon, and amazing baguette. The restaurant big black cat came out of the kitchen and settled in the American's lap! Eee Gads! They were HORRIFIED! ... I was honored.
... and yes, tartare is raw... and I paid.
view burrda2000's profile
Lovely post as I got the visual nicely. Thank you for sharing and while I don't have a trip in my near future, I've already told my husband that this is my goal for my big 4-0 in four years time.
view rosebud's profile
Mine was cassoulet at Aux Produits du Sud Ouest
http://www.fra.cityvox.fr/restaurants_paris/aux-produits-du-sud-ouest_14557/Profil-Lieu
A pretty humble sort of bistro, but the food was amazing -- it was the first time in my life I actually enjoyed beans! The cassoulet was unctious and flavourful (for me, it is the cassoulet against which all others are measured), the wine perfect... I was fascinated by a neighbouring table of 30 something Parisians and their dinner conversation -- so witty and erudite.
I've eaten in Paris and in France many, many times since (I now do my groceries in France), and am always surprised at how we haven't had any bad meals there. My favourite French reality show/contest is "Un Diner presque Parfait",
http://undinerpresqueparfait.m6.fr/ ,
where 5 strangers compete to throw the best dinner party for each other over the course of a week. Contestants judge each other on how good the food and interesting the menu is, on the table setting and decoration, as well as the interpersonal skills of the host and how enjoyable they made the evening. It is a revelation into the French psyche, and rather fun to feel like a guest at all these dinner parties....
view mschatelaine's profile
I love that the waitress has circles under her eyes, and laughs. That detail, for some reason, really makes it come alive for me. Now I want pâté!
http://www.abreadaday.com
view eprewitt's profile
Yeah, what happened to the husband?? Readers want to know!
view betsyb's profile
Dear Kitchn Readers:
Sheesh--where's your imagination? What's usually going on when a husband is no longer a part of the picture? OK, here's a hint. It's one of the following:
1) Divorce
2) Death
3) Out slaying dragons
4) Irreversible Coma
5) Prison
6) Amnesia
view Dana V's profile
Hmm, well, when he gets BACK from slaying the dragon, is he planning on COOKING it? Because that could be a good post!
:) JK. I've been having a serious pate/cornichon craving since reading your post yesterday, by the way! But my supermarket was all out of pate. Booooo! Guess I'll have to go to France too.
view betsyb's profile