mardi 2 décembre 2008

Sunday evening Alain and I made the trek to Célony, right next to Aix, for the Anglo-American Group of Provence's Thanksgiving dinner.

I had reserved our spots at the beginning of November, finally got around to sending in the check (23€ each, ouch). We debated about whether or not to invite Alain's family to come along too, but finally decided that they probably wouldn't be comfortable with everyone speakin' 'Merican.

The aperitif began at 4, but because of some dilly dallying and traffic jams, we didn't get there until almost 5, when the meal was supposed to start. Yep, eating at 5 pm, another cherished American tradition.
All the way there in the car we had a discussion about which country's dessert was the worst:
Alain: Why do you Americans eat pumpkin pie? It is terrible!
Megan: Yeah, well why do you French have to eat clafoutis? They are terrible!
Alain: No they are not!
Megan: Yes they are!
Alain: I don't see why I have to go to this thing. I'm not American!
Megan: Well tough! When you signed the papers you agreed to go to Thanksgiving and eat pumpkin pie!
Alain: It didn't say that in our Contrat de Mariage!
Megan: Yes it did, you just didn't read it closely enough!
Alain: There was nothing about having to eat pumpkin pie in it!

As you can see, he quite dislikes pumpkin pie.
We got to the banquet hall and it was quite crowded. It came time for everyone to take their seats, and only single seats at different tables were left.
They finally pushed over and put another chair at one of the tables, so we were able to sit together. None of the younger couples that we met at the welcome dinner were there. At our table was a couple from Texas, a couple from Colorado, an Irish guy (what was he doing there?), a woman from Minnesota, and women with two little girls.

The turkeys were brought out, along with the green beans, mashed potatoes, yams, bread, red wine, stuffing, and cranberry sauce.

The food was good, but afterwards I wasn't stuffed like normal after Thanksgiving dinner.

The girls had a fabulous time taking the napkin rings and putting them on everyone's heads. It's a crown! It's a headband! It's a ponytail holder! It's an earring!
This got old after an hour.

By this time, I was well into my third glass of wine. We were done with the main meal when the hostess came to our table, gathered us together and said "One of you lucky people is going to be able to take the turkey carcass home."

I said, a bit too loudly, OH BOY!

I couldn't imagine what in the world anyone would want the turkey carcass for, unless to feed a dog. (which would most likely result in cleaning up after the dog afterwards. no thanks)

She seemed a bit offended and said that they make excellent soups. Nobody at our table jumped on the chance, so some other lucky person at a different table got to take our turkey carcass home.

Pumpkin pie was served, to Alain's ENORMOUS delight, but they forgot the whipped cream. Even pumpkin pie lover that I am, I have had better. The pumpkin pie was obviously made from scratch. A good attempt, but I like the canned stuff better. Alain took one bite and gave me a pleading look that said "Do I have to eat this?" I took his piece and he took a piece of apple pie (à la française, not an American Apple Pie).

After the dessert, an announcement was made that a special surprise was in store. A group of traditional Masai dancers was in the area, doing performances, and one of them had agreed to come to the meal and then afterwards do a short presentation of some dances.

The dance floor was cleared, everyone gathered round, he changed into his costume, and the lights were dimmed. The performance lasted about 15 minutes. He was an excellent dancer and very fit. All of the women were surely thinking "What is he wearing under the lioncloth?" and all the men were thinking "He isn't THAT much more muscled than I am."

It ended before 8 and we headed home.
It was a good time and we will probably go again in the future. Though I know now not to try and force Alain to eat the pumpkin pie, not say anything when the turkey carcasses are being offered, arrive before 5 pm, and bring my own whipped cream.

5 commentaires:

Jess a dit…

Ah, that sounds a little more comforting than fish soup and a parking ticket. :)

poppy fields a dit…

An American from my town was probably there with her mom, 2 kids and husband.

amerigirl a dit…

Glad you had a good time. I wanted to go, but was told bringing young children wouldn't be welcomed by all... So maybe in 5 years when the kids are 4+.

Starman a dit…

That was too funny. And the hostess was correct, the carcass would have made fantastic soup, if one is so inclined.

Yvan a dit…

How can you not like _clafoutis_ ??

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