The intellectuals are drinking their coffee at home... Part II

Hey,

been gone again!

After plane and bus hopping for 6 days, I was back in the comfort of my dorm room at Colby College on Tuesday night, utterly exhausted.

But the trip - mostly done inside an airplane - across Europe has prompted some thoughts.

1. Europe is a very diverse continent; it is internally diverse, form a historical perspective, as it includes a plethora of ethno-linguistic groups, and has been the cradle of many religious movements. Europe is also extremely diverse as a result of immigration during the post-World War II era, which continues today, despite efforts to curb it. This diversity is beautiful, and I have a difficult time accepting statements as to the more homogenous nature of European societies: this is no longer applicable. Having said that, the image European media projects is a lot less diverse than the societies it ought to reflect. For example, take an airline like Lufthansa: in their advertisements, it is rare to see a non-aryan looking face, although their staff and your average German citizen walking down the street in Frankfurt or Berlin is far more likely to be of mixed or Turkish, or African (and so on) descent than Lufthansa's promotional campaign would have you guess. So why not put the different faces of Germany, France (doing better on this point), Italy, Austria, the Netherlands, and others on the front pages of magazines and bring the public's attention to the success stories - and the typical struggles - of the immigrants living there? I hardly think such a project would create a backlash, as it doesn't change policy, only attitudes. Then, in turn, 'integration' policies would be easier to create, accept, and enact.
2. French unions need to stop protesting. The inevitability of this set of reforms, in one packaging or another, has to be evident to French citizens. Just across the channel, the British government is introducing a budget that, for better or worse, is quite revolutionary for its epoch, from a fiscal austerity point of view - it is seeking to reduce Britain's debt and in order to do so, is slicing chunks off budgets of various ministries and social services, under the umbrella of reducing overall government spending. There will also be a sooner introduction of the new retirement age, 66 for both men and women, as well as some pension reform. There is a risk of stifling Britain's recovery, but in my personal opinion, I think the UK had always managed to use little to achieve a lot, so I'm holding my fingers crossed for their calculated gamble. So this leaves France, with its retirement age still at 60 and generous pensions, seeming like a spoiled, crying child throwing its final tantrum. Yes, it is easy to understand why the French are so protective of their social welfare benefits and their readiness to spill out into the street is admirable, but there comes a point when reflection has to happen. Is it fair for the British, the Germans, and even the Italians and the Spanish to tighten their belts and to work longer (years) in order to give the French citizens the privilege of holding on to an older system of social benefits no longer viable in the world they live in? Not to mention, the French reforms are timid in comparison to reforms taken on by Spain and Greece (and again, Britain) - but then again, let's reflect on what brought the first tow countries to such a desperate situation? I doubt the French people would like to be seen in the same position in a decade's time.
3. The wave of nationalism sweeping through Europe is alarming (to go back to the diversity point made above), and it is not even so much nationalism as it is Islamophobia. There is no reason to be afraid of Islam, of Muslims and especially of terrorism on the home turf. Security services and intelligence agencies will, in sha'allah, do their job, and citizens' vigilance will not be the sole source of protection for Western societies. But the irrational association of Muslim to dangerous or hostile or foreign should end, really, because the new diverse Europe is as much Muslim as it is Christian and atheist, and it is better for that; this will become evident when European governments will stop their obsession with integration, but instead become open to intra-state cultural exchange, fostering an awareness and an understanding of 'foreigners' problems' and by extension of issues facing foreign governments of immigrants' countries of origin - all this will equip the EU citizens to better deal with the challenges of the 21st century.

Espousing the ideals of the Fifth Republic and the pillars of French society, or vice versa, floating above the gritty realities of daily life of the 'les gens désabusés des banlieux', French intellectuals of the old mould may just have to confine themselves to drinking their coffee at home.

The intellectuals are drinking their coffee at home... Part I

Hey,

been gone a while.

But having read some recent Economist articles, I would like to ponder the fate of Old Europe. What came to my attention when I was studying in France was the utter inefficiency of the French workforce and their economic system on a larger scale. This was particularly apparent after a 3-day trip across the border to Germany, where stores were open on Sunday, and lunch was always easy to find, even at 3 pm.

Upon our return, we continuously berated the French system, pointing out the need to change, only to hear out French peers expound on the importance of family time together, sitting down for meals, counting on job security, free health care, free education, affordability of 'healthy' food, etc. On the last point, which involves state subsidies to French farmers of all sorts, I can only say that while French food and drink look amazing and taste no worse, Germans across the border, who buy 45 % of their groceries in generic packaging at discount supermarkets like Lidl, look healthier than many a French(wo)man.

Unions

The pervasiveness and unreasonable power of unions in France is devastating to the country; we are now past the age of worker exploitation during the Industrialization era, when work days could range from 12 to 18 hours, health insurance was not a term in use, and the abolition of child labor was just becoming a hot topic of debate. There is now equal pay for equal work, albeit some women and certain minorities continue to face discrimination in the workplace - but as long as there is discrimination (and no utopia in sight), it will manifest itself wherever humans act out their lives. In France, unions of workers who I did not know had the need to unionize (farmers or teachers is one thing, air traffic controllers is another) wreak havoc on a daily basis by disrupting traffic, altering academic calendars by strikes, to name a few. In the US, the few unions that remain - and it is not so few, according to statistics - are largely powerless and ineffective, poster-perfect examples of bureaucracies that perpetuate themselves and do so frequently at the expense of unwilling average union members.

Let's think what abolishing unions would do to society? Young employees would undoubtedly gain the edge, as they would be more competitive in both their skill set (technologically savvy, more globalized) and more willing to put in extra effort and extra hours to impress their leadership and to advance themselves in the company or career. Older (trusted, merited) employees would suffer, and that is when everyone talks about job security. Not to mention that so many jobs can nowadays be taken away from the American citizen (or a western European citizen) by immigrants, either from a distant country like India or China or Turkey, or just from across the border (Mexico, Romania, Serbia). Would getting rid of unions mean that the foreigners and not the country's young would get jobs previously securely held by citizens, as private companies greedily seek to slash production costs by employing cheaper labor - or worse, outsourcing?

These are difficult questions to answer, but ultimately the EU's public will have to throw some confidence behind the idea of corporate social responsibility. Regulating companies creates an less friendly business and investment climate. However, having well-known public expectations of companies' contributions to the betterment of local communities (including those within the EU) has been proven to give results.

Personally, I believe that if it is economically reasonable fro me to be fired, or laid off, or conversely be hired to replace a less efficient, more expensive employee, then I have no problem with that. Ultimately, if you are involved in an industry that is inefficient, then you cannot depend on job security to keep you afloat until you are set to retire at the ripe age of 60 (though, admittedly, that would be nice). One must be ready to go down with the sinking ship - or jump overboard, try to find a new career path in the current job market, which is unbelievable open to people with the most varied skill sets and past experiences. Harder to do at 55 than at 25, but if we enjoy the fast pace of change that lets us watch streaming soccer from half-way across the world on our laptop while we are at work, there is no excuse for not taking the bad along with the good. The reality is, to be a competitive employee today, one must be very versatile and familiar with many things technological, social, professional, global - the adjectives can keep on rolling! It is those workers the workplace should seek out and cater to, if companies, which in the EU as anywhere else, make up portions of countries' GDPs are not to linger in danger of going under and remain in need of government bail-outs. I agree with populists on one thing: the bail out money would be more needed in hospitals and schools - next time, if the lessons of these 3 years go right over Europeans' heads. I do think that the rising generation - my generation - is fully aware of what needs to be done, and they are ready to hold on as the reforms turn Old Europe upside down. Only their readiness may go unwanted, because according to the EU age pyramid - a scary thing! - the majority of EU voters in the next decade will be in their 50's or older; too old to be re-trained if they become victims of modernizing reforms and to attached to the old socio-economic order to see it thrown away in favor of competitive capitalism as the EU wheezes in the race to new global markets.

Cultural Adjustment

Stages...

...Yes, they exist. Stages of in-country adjustment vary from place to place, I’d imagine; but they definitely exist. The first stage is the honeymoon period, when all new things are fascinating and even getting a cab on your own is a joy and an achievement, even though you are being mercilessly ripped off and hardly know where you’re going. Or, to use an analogy I can follow through to the end stages: going into a French cafe, where you know that real French people sit and sip their coffee while discussing politics is unreasonably exciting, and you may even make special plans to live out this experience in a carefully (or randomly) selected cafe, at which point you would order an espresso and enjoy the porcelain cup and plate with two sugar cubes and coffee spoon on the side, served to you by a lanky French waiter who speaks no English. You will be eager to tip - and if you do not know that tipping is not practiced (and the tax is included in the price of the order), you will leave an extra euro on the table - and decide that you simply must come back to this place again. In the worst of cases, due to extraneous unpleasant experiences, you may choose another coffee time mecca to frequent over lunch or on a late afternoon.

This stage slowly and subtly morphs into the adjustment period, called such (by me) due to the apparent need for major adjustments in your lifestyle, attitudes, and even thought processes. This period is hard, and most consider this to be the beginning of culture shock; personally, it is always a welcome time for me, because (speaking from 3 experiences) it is still an enthusiastic moment when I realize that I have learning to do, and I am finally aware of the extent of my novice ways in a foreign society. Almost everything is going wrong or could be going better, but it is still possible to laugh about it, and doing so will buy you valuable time.

During this period, the cafe visits will gradually lose their luster. You will begin to notice that the people in the cafe are not discussing, but arguing about politics, and in addition to being very loud speakers, they are harshly critical of all things; you may begin to fear being criticized by them in their flying spit conversations. To further the point for the female observer, the garcon (waiter) is really not attractive (not compared to the barman in the ‘boite’ (night club) you and your friends/co-workers checked out a few nights ago as a result of boredom) and the owner is not the quaint French monsieur with small town charm, but a shrewd businessman. The coffee itself is actually pricy. By now, you know better than to tip, or even want to tip, because you’ve realized that your money, of which there is a limited amount, is wanted elsewhere. In fact, you begin to wonder why you are paying 1.5 euro for a cup of coffee the size of your thumb, when you could be having an ‘Americano’ that would last all of the half hour you intend to spend in the cafe chatting about the news and where to buy the cheapest groceries.

On the flip side, you don’t really mind the absence of American coffee, because (beware, this is total rationalizing to prevent reality from seeping through the cracks):

1) the idea of sitting down for a coffee with friends is cool - it’s a break from the rut and the fast pace of the day

2) you think you’re drinking less coffee

1. you still hope to meet new people, and this is just the way to do it
2. the owner of the establishment is starting to recognize you and be friendly
3. you have finally established a place that is markedly ‘yours’, and it is a consistent preferred meeting ground for your little group of expats, which may or may not include some nationals

Finally - though this is really only the beginning - things hit rock bottom. But not really...it will still get worse before it gets better. To my knowledge, most of my acquaintances and friends think that they are at the pinnacle (or more accurately, bottom) of the culture shock curve, only to hit the same point two weeks down the road. It’s an ugly time, when nothing seems right, nothing is right, and there really appears to be no end to the madness. When you habitually note to yourself that this ridiculously overpriced 1.5 euro French espresso cup is the size of a thumb (with even less coffee in it), you are dangerously close to sticking your thumb into the coffee cup to prove it is really that small. And when finished (which takes all of two sips), you have an urge to smash the cup against the floor, because, after all, it is porcelain.

Two weeks later, you may also start dumping the two sugar cubes into the coffee, only to prove to yourself that this country is full of absurdities, and then bitterly regretting your rash action as the sweetness will irritate your throat and mouth long afterwards. But you will keep doing it. You may also start ignoring the owner of the establishment, and even go there as little as possible, because your consistency is only making him a profit and causing you angst. And why is there no Starbucks in this town, like in all of the civilized world? Coffee to go has never been as necessary as it is now. Simultaneously, your irrational craving for something gastronomically awful will haunt you on a 24-hour basis. Basically, you will lurk behind the corner by some place reminiscent of a neighborhood McDonald’s, feeling stupid should you even dare to touch the door, but desperately needing a taste - or a feel - of the worst your home culture has to offer. Yes, you start to appreciate the bad; this is an ultimate symptom of culture shock. Reportedly, at this point people turn to alcohol and seek sex with random partners (the likelihood of which increases if you go out and drink), neither of which helps.

One one of those days you will, hopefully, snap. It may involve tears, or it may involve a particularly anticlimactic sexual encounter with a random partner that prods you towards in-depth reflection and self-assessment. Yet at some point, you will stop in at the cafe, letting the stress drip off your shoulders like the rainwater of a stormy afternoon, call or text your expatriate friend and ask him/her to join you for a glass of wine/juice or a cup of coffee. When the waiter comes to take your order and asks you how you’re doing, you will not perkily tell him you’re great, but sigh and say that you’re getting by, little by little, to which he will respond: just like everyone else! And when your friend finally shows up, and you think you’re about to set off on a rant about your misery, he/she will beat you to it, and you will spend the entire afternoon knowledgeably consoling your comrade abroad.

Thankfully, it only gets better from here. You have, at this point, become the regulars of the cafe/restaurant/bar that you initially chose as your watering hole. You joke about it, and you joke with the waiter(s) and the owner. Moreover, you know everyone’s names, including those of other regulars. If the last bit applies to you, and you are in a bar, you should maybe reconsider going there every night. But all in all, money is no longer the problem, though you have a diminishing supply, because you have figured out how to order the good stuff (food and drinks) without paying too much; probably, your local friends had some good advice to share on this account. The owner of the place has also started doing unheard-of things, like putting down a bottle on your table instead of charging you all for individual drinks, or he has begun to serve your clique of (mostly) foreign regulars complimentary cups of espresso on the occasional long evening.

You don’t want to leave. But it’s time to go home. And when you’ve gone, you’ll understand that you were not the only one going through adjustments, and to an even greater extent, you were not alone in the process - these are two different things. The friends you made in this place are as much changed by knowing you as you were by knowing them. The owner and the staff of whatever place you had frequented were observing you, and may even remember you for a long time thereafter, as the foreigner(s) who stuck. They admire you now, and they’ll miss you too, even though no letters, e-mails, or phone calls will be exchanged between you. But on your last night, a round of drinks was on the house, or the shawarma sandwiches or steak with fries were especially well-made, and you got a free treat (of a varying nature) from your local friends that caused a melting sensation in your chest. You don’t even know how “home” could measure up to the high standards set by this new yet familiar culture, community, and lifestyle. What you missed seems not so vital anymore, and return can be delayed by another couple of months. But really, it’s time to go home. And though leaving is never opportune enough, it should happen when intended, otherwise you’re just putting off a whole new wave of (reverse) culture shock and re-adjustment and possibly souring your near-perfect memory of this adventure abroad.

Going Native, Part I

Hello!

Today, finally some time to blog, because school has been cancelled. It’s a rain day! I never thought I’d live to hear these words, especially given the circumstances: it rained for no more than half an hour (albeit with some sizable hail) and now the sky is turning blue again and the weather seems beautiful. It is almost a pity we have to miss out on school and do the catching up later on when it is so nice out.

The students have just returned from a trip to Salala, and we are all thoroughly exhausted, some of us even sun-burnt. The heat is starting to manifest itself, and I personally am enjoying daily nosebleeds as a result of high BP and heat. To be fair, nobody is complaining yet, though it is tangibly warmer outside, and during group hikes, the girls are having a hard time, always dripping in sweat. The hijab and the abaya are almost a must in most situations and even on excursions, especially anywhere in the south and the interior, or off the beaten tourist track. It is tiring and unpleasant to walk in them due to their impermeability: they let in no air and let out no moisture or heat. Additionally, abayas are too long and always black, so you can imagine the heat that girls have to put up with when out in the open. The hijabs are never light enough, no matter how thin the fabric is and how much it ‘breathes’.

Yet there are advantages: because the hijab covers the neck and hair, the head is never warmed by the sun’s rays, and the headscarf absorbs the sweat on the neck. In short, there is little to worry about, in terms of over-heating or dehydration due to loss of moisture. Although drinking lots of water is still highly recommended. And the abaya lets you relax and just be you (whenever you’re not tripping on it). You can sit in it in a myriad of ways, and do just about anything, short of swimming. The garment is not see-through and you can wear almost anything (or nothing) underneath. But believe me, you would want to have short sleeves and long pants (or loose maxis) under the abaya. When you walk up/down stairs and have to lift it up, it is just rude to flash everyone with your bare ankles and calves. Additionally, having sleeves helps absorb sweat in the underarms, which, if it comes in contact with the abaya, will stain it and feel genuinely disgusting. That having been said, I still envy the [appropriately dressed] Western tourists, from time to time. Their cool cotton blouses and shorts make me reflect on why I am baking in destruction-proof, solid black abaya fabric with a massive headscarf around my head and shoulders. And then I remember: immersion. Knowing how they feel, how they think, what it is they care about, and what makes them tick. And when I say ‘they’, I am not designating ‘the Other’, but simply generalizing about a large population that is too diverse to blog about its differences. But maybe I will some day, after another month or so of walking in their clothes.

First Days in Oman

Hello!

Finally made it to the Sultanate of Oman (by way of Abu Dhabi airport). Thank you Etihad, for a wonderful transatlantic flight! I must say, Etihad airways has so far been the best way to fly across the pond.

Here’s why: from the moment of booking and re-scheduling my departure ticket online, this airline was customer-friendly and accessible. First of all, I’d like to make a few remarks on accessibility. Customer Service was speedy and reliable, and they actually made the effort to reach me and double-check everything with me after I re-scheduled my booking. Etihad maintains a very user-friendly, easy-to-navigate website and are very considerate, offering about 7 or more meal options for picky passengers.

This is just before departure. This is a fairly new airline, in existence for only 5 years or so, therefore their carriers are also in good condition: the seats were very wide, everything was very clean and up-to-date technologically. The best movie selection, hands down... and even a variety of news channels was offered. The flight crew was very nice, and most importantly, efficient and truly international

Customs was rather interesting, as I had to purchase a visa upon entry to Oman, and to do it I needed Omani Rials (pegged to the US dollar, OR 1 = USD2.7) but at the visa register, the customs officials asked my classmate and me whether we had ‘Arab friends’. Ahem. Tastaqbaloon ila ‘oman! : )

The first few days in the capital city were really exciting, with sightseeing, 5:30 am prayer wake-up calls from the adjacent mosque, bartering in the aromatic and excitingly cheap souk, and night walks along the bay in Muscat’s much-photographed tourist district. I think what I will miss the most is the 18 % ‘sacs’ in our morning orange Rani; it was a great breakfast conversation starter. I will write more about the Grand Mosque, the museums, the Sultan Qaboos University, the Fish Market, the Muttrah Souk and the Quornish later on, once I have all the relevant photos sorted out. Let me just say that this city is fascinating and much more multidimensional than even Lonely Planet would have you believe...Although I can’t slight Lonely Planet, they have never ceased to provide priceless information tips to all of their readers.

French Soups on Hold

Hello! I apologize (to anyone reading this) for the lack of French soup recipes lately. I have been preparing for a departure to a Gulf country on a study abroad program and tying up loose ends from last semester...this left me with little time to cook new meals. Unfortunately, I will not be continuing my French cuisine adventures while abroad for a few reasons: firstly, there is a general shortage of basic ingredients, such as leeks, common to many French soups; secondly, jet lag has gotten the better of me, and when it will fade away, classes will settle in, full force; thirdly - and most importantly - I have no access to a kitchen, unless my host family will let me use theirs, in which case the previously given reasons would still limit my ability to prepare a dish.

However, I did cook a soup that has not made it to the blog in the month preceding my departure. It will be up as soon as I am back in New York. Bon Appetit (this time, eating your own creation)!

15 Days

Hello!

The doomsday title is just a deadline. There are 15 days left before I have to leave NYC to go to Oman, and the idea is very frightening at this point. I'm not scared of going to the Middle East, especially since Oman is said to be (and seems, so far) a fairly safe country in general, and for foreigners especially. Obviously, being a foreigner and an American (the usual icing on the cake outside our borders) is never completely danger-free, but all the misunderstandings and little problems become negligent against the backdrop of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

However, I came to the realization that foregoing my typhoid shot was a very bad idea. Namely, it is 'urged' instead of being simply recommended, and I decided that it was just a program precaution to avoid the anger or lawsuits of unhappy parents should any students catch typhoid fever during their time there...but now I realize that the opportunities for contracting typhoid being so abundant, it would have been really liberating to have a vaccine. Alas!

It would also be liberating to have a full suitcase of ready-to-wear clothes once I get there, but after browsing through my closet, dresser, container and pseudo-packed suitcase from last semester abroad, it became clear that I have nothing appropriate to bring along with me. Save for 2 pairs of pants, which have to be worn with a tunic because they are bell-bottoms, one sweater and multiple T-shirts, I have no clothing that I could honestly call 'appropriate'. I just never thought of myself as 'scandalous, ' but I guess I'll have to change my self-assessment!

I'm also kind of scared to be bitten by rabid animals, especially since homeless dogs so frequently seen on the streets of non-Western countries have a thing for following around and trying to bite me. Speaking from experience, after having lived in one such place for 10 years. In short, we'll see if I make it out in one piece...not because the location is dangerous, but because I am very accident-prone and rather unlucky. Oh, and add bad decision-making to the list.

I'll keep updating the blog as much as possible during my stay in Oman (internet access may be limited). Currently, I have 15 days to wrap up one semester, prepare to start another, and live a little in between ( since I'm in the best city in the entire world :)

....And encore some French soups to cook!

Cheers!

Creme Bretonne

Hello!

I'm really excited to post this, because I've been looking forward to cooking this French recipe! The Breton cream soup is a recipe from Brittany - or so says its geographic name - and normally, food in Brittany is overwhelmingly delicious! I personally have never eaten this cream soup while I travelled there, but it seems likely to be a healthy and light soup that will warm your tummy on a cold winter afternoon (you guessed it, this soup should be served very hot)...because in Brittany the weather can be a bit harsh, despite the often mild temperatures; especially along its [fishermen's] coastline that juts out into the English Channel.

The following recipe should take 30 minutes to cook (about 5-10 minutes of preparation may be necessary, depending on your skill for chopping veggies) and is meant to serve 4 people.

Breton Cream Soup

400g of haricot beans (string beans)

200g of onions

40g of butter

20cl of milk (=200mL)

1 tbsp of tomato puree

salt, pepper

1) Boil 30cl (=300mL) of water in a cooking pot.

2) Remove the roots and the first layer of the whites of leeks

3) Cut the whites in a cross before washing them and recutting them in sections of 2 cm

4) Peel the onions and cut them in slices

5) Put the leeks' whites and the onions into the boiling water; then add the tomato puree

6) Cook for 20 minutes

7) Pour the string beans into the mixer and turn it on

8) Add the contents of the cooking pot into the mixer and mix again, all the while adding milk

9)Pour back out into the cooking pot

10) Heat up on a small flame

11) Add the butter

12) Mix/stir and adjust the seasoning, if necessary

Note: Can be served with a bit of cream (out of desperation, I even used Half&Half) sprinkled on top of the hot bowl of soup and stirred.

Bon Appetit!!!

Crème de Chou-fleur

Hello!

Here is a second easy soup - easier than the first - that has a preparation time of 20 minutes and should serve about 4 people. Again, these are French portions, so don't take it literally.

Cream of Cauliflower

1 cauliflower

1 onion

1 potato (note: better to choose a large potato)

1 cube of chicken soup

1 egg yolk

30g of butter

20cl of sour cream (note: 20cl = 200ml)

1 coffee spoon of chervil

1 coffee spoon of parsley

nutmeg

salt, pepper

1. Peel off the green leaves of the cauliflower before cutting it in small bouquets (I'm guessing, pieces no larger than 1 inch).
2. Put 1.5L of lightly salted water to boil.
3. During this time, peel and mince the onion and the potato.
4. Throw the cauliflower into the boiling water, with the cube of chicken soup, the potato and the onion.
5. Cover and let cook (boiling) for 15 minutes.
6. Reduce the mix to a puree.
7. Pepper, add nutmeg and sprinkle with some thin strips of butter.
8. Mix the sour cream and the egg yolk.
9. Out of the heat, incorporate the sour cream-yolk mix into the puree.
10. Adjust the seasoning, if necessary.
11. At the moment of serving, sprinkle (moderately) the chervil and the parsley, finely chiseled.

General Remarks: This is obviously better served hot. Very hot. As I am not a fan of spices, I add them, as we say, 'symbolically': not a pinch more than prescribed, sometimes even less. But for this soup, I would suggest to not hold back on the nutmeg - it truly enriches the taste! If the soup is too thick, a tea spoon of sour cream can be added to top off each bowl.

Also, if you have croutons, you should throw them into a hot bowl of this soup and make it so much more delicious. If you have no croutons, you will have to cook a bit more to avoid eating a plain soup. Essentially, all you need is wheat bread cut into small triangles, which you would fry in a pan, soaking in hot olive oil, until they turn golden brown (or darker, if you like). No worries, olive oil is healthy enough that this extravagant crouton preparation shouldn't leave a cholesterol trace!

Bon Appetit!

P.S. Can a historical note be left out? Of course not! This soup used to be called "Crème de Barry", after the Countess of Barry, a favorite of Louis XV. And she ate it exactly as described above, with the croutons fried in hot olive oil. I think that she had good taste... in food : )

Procrastination

Hello, blog.

You are the last resort. If I should procrastinate, I would like to do this with a purpose. And I have decided that blogging about a nonexistent subject is a purpose.

I have a rather important paper to e-mail (and then mail) to a professor in France in less than 24 hours, but it is not yet written. There are almost 3 pages full of unaccented passe compose verb particles and yet not cited citations, and 17 pages that are yet to materialize on an overheating laptop. I decided that I will edit the paper tomorrow night, which is an ambitious decision, given that I drank my last Rockstar tonight, and it only inspired me to watch Take The Lead, a documentary on ABBA, lots of old olympic and world figure skating videos, and YouTube movie trailers. In fact, the reason I'm blogging is because The Ugly Truth is taking 14 minutes to download. Frankly, all this makes me feel as if I have no interest in the electoral politics of South Africa... and that's not true; I LOVE electoral politics (somewhat)... okay, they're interesting, but to the same extent as any subject after a reasonably thorough bit of research is done to learn about it. I also found nothing profoundly distressing that goes on in South African election campaigns or outside of them. It may be that I only like working on projects that have no optimistic undertone or a possible resolution to their 'problematique' in the foreseeable future. I would seriously prefer to write 20 pages about Yemen. Anything in Yemen. Give me a topic, and I'll do it by February, no problem.

I am digressing. What I would like to say is that procrastination is terrible, but once you're in the loop, you have to just go for it. You know you're not going to get anything done! Life has taught me that letting go of the stress and just enjoying yourself always pays off - you'll be much better prepared to handle the imminent work ahead...unless you oversleep the deadline!

Bonne Nuit! Good Night! Buenos Noches! Spokoinoi Nochi! Guten Nacht!

Soupe Paysanne Au Lard

Hello!

I have endeavored to cook French food. Easier said than done, obviously. Before taking my last steps on French soil, I went into a librarie (book store) and bought The Small Book of Soups (Chavanne, Philippe. Le petit livre de soupes. Editions FIRST, 2003.) with the intention to cook my way through the easier recipes, simultaneously surprising my parents and myself. Then, on my first day home, I skimmed the book's pages and realized that even this would be barely possible, since I live very far from 'Parisian mushrooms' and authentic French wine (and what we do find here is certainly too expensive to pour into soups prepared by a kitchen novice like myself) not to mention all those 'fine herbs' and seasonings I cannot find at the Associated supermarket in the neighborhood.

But I have set up the somewhat illusory goal of making all but the most exotic and challenging soups at least once by the time I graduate from college in May of 2011. After all, I'll have to eat something once I'm on my own! No more dining halls means I'll have to roll up my sleeves and fend for myself.

Why start with soups? I could have chosen a book that instructed me on cooking secrets of cakes, pies, and cocktails. But I like pastries enough to always learn on my own, and I happen to LOVE soups; so behold the first - and so far, the most filling - recipe translated directly from the French cook book and adapted to your local grocery store.

Peasant Soup with Lard/Bacon (preparation time: 30 minutes)

200g fat, streaky bacon

20g butter

3 leeks

3 potatoes

2 onions

1 cube of chicken soup

1 garnished bouquet

fine herbs

salt, pepper

1. peel potatoes and cut them in big cubes
2. wash leeks and cut in thin straps (round slices)
3. cut the raw bacon into little cubes
4. peel and mince the onions
5. in a cooking pot, melt a small knob of butter
6. add the onions, the potatoes, the fine herbs, the garnished bouquet and the cube of chicken soup
7. wet (i.e. cover) with 1 Liter of water and let cook for 20 minutes
8. in a frying pan, let brown the bacon strips with the rest of the butter
9. add the leeks and let cook for 10 minutes (with lid)
10. blend the soup after having removed the garnished bouquet (note: 'blend' means 'stir well')
11. incorporate the leeks and the bacon
12. salt and pepper to taste; serve very hot (note: this is said to serve 4 people, but 3 can effortlessly consume the contents of the casserole)

This recipe can be followed to the letter, but there may be some minor adjustments of ingredients (depending on where you live and what is available to you):

• The 'lard' spoken of here is sold in cubes in French stores, whereas on the US you will probably find bacon strips that recquire slightly different preparation; this is a minor detail, and it will not derail your cooking process.


• 1 cube of chicken soup is about 1 1/2 tsp of chicken soup powder.


• Fine herbs are a personal touch. I added a few pinches of vegetable Vegetta (there is a chicken Vegetta seasoning too), I guess the same as a teaspoon.


• The garnished bouquet normally includes parsley, thyme and bay leaf. It should be tied with a colorless string, or can be wrapped into a sort of gauze - less messy and easier to remove). It can be enriched by adding basil, burnet, chervil, rosemary, peppercorns, savory and/or tarragon. As I discovered, not all of these seasonings are readily available in American stores (but then again, I live far from Tesco, Walmart, Shoprite, Hanaford, etc.). What to do? I added quite a bit of oregano instead - and I did have tarragon and basil. I also bought Italian seasoning (which included savory and rosemary); that was also thrown into the mix. The bouquet smelled great, and that's what's matters!

Bon Appetit!