The Dinner

OK, by now you can tell that the gathering of my food and the cooking of that food in my own kitchen is so central to my enjoyment of this place. Simultaneously sensuous and delicious.
We have for years wanted to invite our landlord and his wife-to-be to dinner. For me, to prepare a meal and to offer it to my guest at my table is my highest expression of admiration. They are to be married while we are here and this seemed a perfect time to pitch the offer.
Sandy's always a bit leary of these intercultural affairs, because, let's face it, we really don't speak French, and they really don't speak English. Don't worry, we'll manage. Offer is made- offer is accepted. Friday, vendredi at 8 PM, 20h. Oui! That was easy!
Right,, now,, the menu.
Think I'll do a nice cote du porc (thick pork chops on the bone) marinated in EVO, garlic, balsamic, herbes de provence and a pinch of fresh orange zest. Oh, and some of those little fingerling potatoes sauteed in EVO/butter with shallots, garlic and herbes de provence. A simple salade verte and a starter of onion tarte, a favorite of Sandy's back home- carmelized onions, lardons (bacon), garlic, minced black and green olives, herbes de provence, feta and shredded emmentahler, bake until golden brown, yuuuum!
And for dessert, I think the fraises (strawberries) in a parfait with chantilly creme.
First, a trip by bus to Bandol- stop by the cave au vins to pick up the wine. The rouge, a Domaine Bunan- Moulin des Coste 2004 and a Domaine Pibernon 2004. Both are blends of mouvedre, a rather ornery grape that has been sucessfully managed here with stellar results. Similar to the cotes-du-rhone, these two are spectacular with grilled meats. Also, a primo rose, the Domaine Tempier 2009. I have only read about it, highly anticipated for it is not available in the states. Bus back, about 1hr round trip, that was easy.
Friday morning, vendredi, market visit, oh boy! Won't bore you with the details of another market visit, but it was glorious!
Stop by the boucherie (butcher), C'osseline- for the cote du porc. This place is like a gallery for the meat, artfully presented and simply beautiful. my request made, je voudrais le cote du porc, sil-vous-plaits- cinq (5) piece, 2.5 cm tranches (I would like the pork chops please, 2.5 cm slices), he takes the rack of pork, cleaves it in great strokes (I look, he still has all his fingers, wow) and whittles the chops with a razor sharp knive, steeled before my eyes of course, into the appropriate form. Again, simply beautiful. 1.3 kg for 13e, 50- not bad.
Drop by the boulanger Suirrey on the way home for duo baguette, sil vou-plaits, and on to the house.
Ah, now, duo Pastis on the patio for Sandy and me, before long, time to start the cooking.
But first, a spot of lunch. I'm cooking tonight, so lunch is out. It can be an inexpensive way to enjoy a great resturant meal here. Little cafe by the harbor, boats bobbing out front, a big basket of fresh fish brought to the table for inspection. OOOh, fresh dorade (sea bream) grilled whole, we both jump on it.
Add a bottle of local rose from la Cadiere, oh yeah.
Ok, once again, , up the hill, a bit wobbly.
Time to cook!!
Chopping, chopping and more chopping. salade prepped- will build it later. let's see, sautee the aroamatics for the onion tarte-- build-- top with cheeses and, into our cantanqerous little oven to brown.
UUmmm, smells soooo good. Prep the marinade and combine with the chops in a zip loc bag, ready!
Ok, let's sautee those little fingerlings, eschallotes, garlic, herbes and yep, a big ole pat o' butter.
Open a bottle of Bunan and Pibernon- the attendant at the cave recommended opening a couple of hours prior to drinking, ok, done that!
Hummm! Where's the bottle of propane? I had asked monseiur if he could pick up a full one earlier in the week when the invitation had been made. Don't see one yet and I'm just a little concerned. Oh well,,, I'm sure he'll come thru.
Now,, oh yes, chop the fraises and set in the fridge.
AHHH, I'm in pretty good shape with time to spare.
Hummm, about 19h and the sky's not looking so good. And the gas, no sign of it, actually no sign of Monseiur or Madame either, hummm?
Oh well, press on. Things sometimes work a little strangely here. Table settings prepped, hold off a bit, see what the weather brings. Clear off our little dining table, just in case.
OK! Monseiur and Madam are in the house- good- it's about 15 till 8. How does this work? Do I go up and invite them down- will they just come on down? Oh, I'll just wing it! Sandy's not quite as freewheeling as I, by now she's showing just a bit of stress. Pas de probleme (no problem) I tell her.
I walk out onto the patio to greet Monseiur, he's dressed casually with a jacket and Madame, a casual frock, also with jacket-- awkward pause-- "Keveenn, I forgot to get the gas, I will get it for you now". Wheew! Yes!
After a couple of minutes of confusion over an empty tank, it becomes known that Madame had picked up the gas earlier in the week and told no one. Oh bonne! (good)
Monseiur leads me to the grille to instruct me on its usage-- no need,I did this last year. Oh good! it's beginning to sprinkle now--- shit!
'Bout to go back into the house for the meat and Monseiur and Madame begin to walk off in the direction of their car. HUHH? "Bye bye Keveen, enjoy your dinner".
Into the car, Monseiue, Madame and two of their boys.
I am slackjawed, what the.......?
I am the deer in the headlights as the family drives off and down the street.
I stumble, dazed, back into the house to find a puzzled Sandy standing in the kitchen. She want's to know what's goin' on-- I really don't know!
Things like this happen when you're the stranger in a foreign land
Did Monseiur:
1. Forget the dinner?
2. Misunderstand the invitation or the date?
3. Not want to have dinner?
At times like these it's difficult to figure, but I think definately not #3.
OK, so,,, we still have to eat and boy, we've got plenty of food!
Grab a couple of chops and out to the grille, and,,, yep it's raining. Merde!(shit)
Chops cook quickly, back to the house-- have candle--can't light--don't smoke--they do--aren't here. Oh well,, a delicious meal, and,oh yes, we enjoyed a whole bottle of the Pibernon as a consolation, it was tres tres bonne. A classic experience, not the first or last.
Next day, Sandy, only half jokingly, wonders if Monseiur somehow got the days mixed up, he does that sometimes. You see, it's a little tricky, when both parties don't speak one another's languages, it's easy to assume that the other party understands
what you are saying or even what they are saying to you. Communication is not necessarily occouring. I blow-off her ponderings and say something like, who knows or mysteries of the French.
Later in the day after having returned from the beach, we are leaving on our way to dinner at our favorite little Provencal Cafe, when we are met at the door by, you guessed it, Madame, dressed smartly. "Keveen, would you like to have dinner with us this evening"?
Oh shit! How do I work myself thru this hole? She speaks even less English than Monseiur.
Madame,,, cest une probleme! Le dinner pour vendredi. (there is a problem, the dinner was friday).Puzzled look in return,,, ajourdui, c'est samedei. Oui,,, more puzzled look. Oh God, this is awful! After five minutes or so of this awkwardness, I manage, or not, to reschedule dinner to diamanche (Sunday) 20h, 8pm. Following various repetitions and "agreement", I think we have and understanding.
deja vu--go to market--go to butcher--go to boulanger--chop, chop, prep, prep--tutto bien (everything's fine), orrrr..... Sandy's doing her pondering again, you don't suppose they think we've invited ourselves to dinner and that they too are fixing dinner?
Seriously,, at just about this time Monseiur comes up the drive , "bonjour--bonjour", and into the house with beacoups shopping bags.
Ohhh shiiit-- no way?
I do the only thing I know, I sit down and in my "best" French I write up a menu for this evenings dinner, my dinner that is. up the stairs and present this to Madame, who guides me into the kitchen. Just as I hand her the menu, I take notice of Monseiur out of the corner of my eye, he is,,, brushing a moutarde marinade on,,, yess,, noo,,, a big ole pile of cote du porc.
Shit!!!!
Madame, puzzled look again--me stupid look again--much awkward verbal groping.
Finally it hits-we both realize what's up- we are both cooking the same dinner.
Compromise--her taboule salade--me no potatoes--her tarte au pomme (apple pie)--me no fraises--both meat for the unknownst to me six friends and family who are also comming. But wait, one speaks english very well, or so I'm told. Yes,, well then,, all will be clear after this evening-- hummm?
Well I must say, dinner goes off wonderfully, despite an initial glitch with Monsieurs grille. Plenty of food and drink, and, yesss, the one guest did speak English, beautifully, actually all of them speak some.
We, are of course, a curiousity with much questioning. The French in these parts are intensely curious about America and Americans, and hey,,, we are the token Americans. Everyone is so charming, so welcoming and so quick to make us feel at ease.
Also, having the benefit of an introduction by one of their peers further eases us into the fold.
It was a wonderful time--many toast and pronouncements--the story of the "comedy of errors" being somewhat explained to all that evening--I only too willing to accept the blame for the misunderstandings--they--much to gracious to allow me to do so.
The party breaks up around 1am--much cheek kissing, bonne nuits, abientos.
It's been just great and we'll see them all again in two weeks for the upcoming wedding.
Bonne nuit,
Cousin