Stone streets and glowing lamps lead into wicker chairs under colored awnings of the many cafés that sprinkle the streets of Paris. The Parisian dining experience is truly something else. Walking past the outdoor seating, you see friends romantically sharing a drink and a smoke while watching those passing by; it seems as if they know all of Paris’ secrets. Every Thursday, as a part of my French curriculum while I am studying in Paris, I meet with a Parisian student with other UChicgao students and we have, well, attempt to have conversations in French. Another part of this is for those true Parisians to show us the city as they know it.
This Thursday I experienced dining in Paris at a local crêperie near Le Marais. This was a small restaurant, not a stand, which served crepes and omelets among other things. As we entered, small tables filled the similarly small wooden dining area. One waitress had the whole restaurant to serve, which was stressful for her. After pouring over the menu, we finally made our selections: a crepe with Roquefort, a type of bleu cheese from the south of France, with bacon for me and one with fig and foie gras (fattened goose liver which is so very delicious) for my friend Sarah.
Our conversation instructor Anabelle laughed at our indecision, as in Paris when one goes to a crêperie, they already know what they want. As in many European countries, drinks are more expensive and there are no refills as there are in the States. Sarah and I split a half pitcher —don’t picture a pitcher of Bud Light because I don’t even think a full pitcher is that big— of cider. Being the fall, the cider (spelled “cidre” here) completed the evening well, and it is also slightly alcoholic which is different than the States.
The skilled waitress presented us with our beautiful crepes, steaming and savory and ready to be enjoyed. We couldn’t decide between the two flavors, so Sarah and I had decided to split our crêpes. We cut the crêpe and were making a risky plate transfer when we noticed Annabelle’s shocked face, “What are you doing?” “We wanted to share…” we said. If I’m honest, she was slightly embarrassed but she laughed it off and said “That is not something people do here.”
The style of eating is so different. The knife is used every time you sit down to eat something, even a hamburger. It is a challenge and I am working hard to perfect the fork and knife etiquette of the French.
Well, as much as I try to blend and adopt the Parisian culture, my American splitting of the crêpe was well worth it because both were amazing! The whole experience was very genuine. It was small and crowded and although we had to wait for our food, the atmosphere remained relaxed. Everything was more intimate and the time passed pleasantly in the glowing candles.