Happy Thanksgiving

As everyone prepares for their long weekend with family in the States, I can’t help but think of my family who will gather at our house for Thanksgiving this year. Not to worry though… I had myself a Thanksgiving last weekend.

Knowing I might not have Thanksgiving this year, I decided I’d invite the few Americans I know in Paris to our place for dinner. I’d never hosted a holiday dinner. To be honest I was a little worried I’d be more like Amelia Bedelia than Martha Stewart.

I haven’t had too many troubles cooking in Paris. But making a Thanksgiving dinner is different. I haven’t seen a Turkey since I’ve been here. I’ve been offered a reason for this that I particularly like but find hard to believe: Turkeys are too big to fit in Parisian apartments (small refrigerators and ovens don’t make them easier to have). I suppose for whatever reason they just aren’t popular here and thus we had to go with chicken. I’ve also never made stuffing and in reading recipes thought it might be a little too difficult for me. But my dear friend Google solved my problem! I thought searching “Thanksgiving in Paris” would yield recipes for Americans living in Paris. But what I found was so much better: a store called Thanksgiving that’s in Paris. Lucky for me this little slice of heaven is a mere 15-minute walk from home!

If you’re ever in Paris for a decent amount of time, you really have to check this place out. The quaint shop is full of everything you would ever need for Thanksgiving (and more). From fluff to cranberries to measuring cups in units I miss, Thanksgiving has it (of course for a fairly hefty price). It wasn’t easy but John and I made it out of the store with a small bag of groceries. Between you me, I think we’re both working on reasons to go back already!

We wound up with more than enough food for six. I must say I was quite impressed that we pulled it off. We successfully offered: baked camembert, salad, chicken, cranberry sauce, green beans with mushrooms, stuffing and pumpkin pie. As if it weren’t enough our guests brought even more: pecan pie, apple crumble and plenty of wine. The only things missing were family and the Macy’s Parade.

I have so much to be thankful for this year. Okay so I might not be Martha or Betty but I’m doing pretty well for myself and for that I’m thankful! I’m thankful I’ve been able to make Paris home and that I was able to have a thanksgiving dinner with friends.

Though I’ll miss not being home with my family tomorrow, I’ll be thinking of them.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Click here to check out pictures from our Thanksgiving!

The Perfect Wednesday!

November 11^th was the remembrance day of the end of WW1 (the anniversary of the peace signing), which also happens to be a National Holiday in France. The greatest part of this is that I got the day off from work!

Even though I'm living in Paris, I’ve been a little jaded lately. I’ve spent months exploring the different arrondissements and becoming more comfortable finding my way. I don’t have to constantly plan my route before I leave the house. I recognize places and now realize just how small Paris is. Don’t get me wrong: I am in love with Paris. But I think it’s only natural to begin to feel like a local. Okay…maybe local minus the language.

Anyway for my Wednesday John planned everything. I didn’t want to stay in the apartment. I didn’t want to run errands. I wanted to have a day of fun. And that is exactly what John had in store for me!

Instead of waking up at 7, I got to sleep in. And when Oscar began screaming to wake us up John took him outside so I could sleep a little more. (That was enough to have a great day!) The day really started with a walk to brunch (in the Marais) at an American Diner. I was really impressed! They had real pancakes, bagels and cream cheese, milkshakes, root beer… all the things you think of when you think about the states. I don’t know which was better: enjoying a little slice of America here or watching Parisians attempt to eat American food. First, I must admit I’m impressed with the French because they eat so much and stay so fit. The couple on our left had: a milkshake, 3 eggs, 3 pancakes, bacon and half a bagel with cream cheese…each. Each of the girls on our right had a huge omelet with breakfast potatoes with a side of three pancakes. I couldn’t believe it! But what was worse was watching them eat. Not because it was an ugly sight. But the woman on our left tried both cream cheese and syrup for the first time. She used so little cream cheese I’m not surprised that she didn’t think it had much taste. But to watch her face when she tried the syrup was priceless. I think syrup goes just over just as well as peeps in France. Not too well, though it’s surprising because Parisians seem to love their sweets and honey. I think most surprising was that all the people around us ate their pancakes with their hands! What’s worse was the melting butter on top was used as a dipping sauce! One woman even cut her pancakes into smaller pieces to more easily eat them with her hands. I can’t help but wonder: what rudimentary things do I do that make Parisians stop and question me?!

After people watching over brunch John and I headed to Montmartre, perhaps most well known for the Sacré-Couer and the Moulin Rouge. This is one area of Paris I don’t know well and was so happy to have the afternoon to explore. We began our visit at the Musée de Montmartre, which is the oldest hotel in the area (though it’s no longer a hotel). It was great to not only see a slice of French history but to also learn about an area of Paris I never thought would have such rich history. Like many museums in France, the Musée Montmarte gets funding from the government. During our visit we found out that they’re going to lose their funding. This was particularly hard for me to understand because I think museums just like this one help make Paris, Paris.

After wandering around Montmartre for a while we stopped for a drink at a café that was covered from floor to ceiling in memorabilia. At first I was a little taken aback by it all but once we started reading the different notes stapled to the wall we found lots interesting things including one note that said, “ Because the speed of light is faster then the speed of sound: you looked brilliant before you sounded stupid.”

The cold started getting to us as we made our way home. It’s amazing how quickly I have forgotten the dreadful winters of Minnesota. I’m finding myself chilled in 55* weather when I’ve survived in -55*! The perfect way to end our day was in the warmth of our home, making dinner together and then watching a movie.

I had the perfect Wednesday off from work. John did an amazing job planning a day for me! It’s days like this that make me want to extend my time here.

Make sure to check out our pictures here!

Lesson Learned

It’s funny; I didn’t really realize it was November until now. Each day goes by slowly but the time has flown by. I haven’t blogged much. Perhaps you’ve thought I’ve given up or perhaps you’re wondering if life is really that boring that I have nothing to blog about (except of course for pickles).

Though neither is true. I went to Colombe’s baptism, which was a great experience! I’ve had a handful of friends pass through Paris, one of which introduced John and I to a wonderful family who, ironically, live five minutes from John’s grandparents. I've seen the first Apple Store in Paris. And have even tried my hand at Chinese cooking – which it turns out should be my new back up profession.

So what’s the problem here? Why are the days slow but a month slipped away without me noticing?

Work. I’ve tried to keep my internship and company off of my blog perhaps out of respect for their anonymity or perhaps because living in Paris shouldn’t only be about my work experience. Though to be honest I spend a majority of my time at the office & learning French (which, by the way, is going swimmingly).

I wish I could tell you that I am having a typical French work experience but that would be a lie. I only get a 35-hour work-week (okay, maybe it’s a little less) because I study at the Alliance Francaise 3 mornings a week. I don’t get perks like a Metro card reimbursement program or coupons for lunch – which I’ve come to learn are a given for most French employees. I get about 30-45 minutes for lunch, not the glamorous 2 hours I’ve been asked about by Americans. Though when people arrive in the morning we “faits les bisous” (kisses on the cheeks) or shake hands; a custom I think all American managers should consider. As people come and go they acknowledge employees with a company-wide, “Bonjour” or “Au revoir” as they walk in. You can often find croissants or gateaux (desserts) in the coffee room for any reason under the sun: someone had a big meeting, it’s someone’s birthday (or their child’s birthday), etc. This past Friday the company took 45 minutes out of their afternoon to toast (with Champagne) someone’s relocation to the office in New York. In fact, employees often take breaks. I was taken-aback within the first week when I would look up and see almost no one in the office because they all go outside to smoke (for 10 - 20 minutes). In the mornings – though I suppose it happens all day – people take coffee breaks for a decent chunk of time. This all sounds normal of paper but for Americans I have to admit that some of these things took some getting used to. I’m sure I’m forgetting to mention things because I’ve just grown too accustomed to it to think about it as different.

It also sounds like I should be having a great experience. And it’s true I should. During the planning process this experience sounded too good to be true. In reality it has become perhaps one of the biggest learning experiences ever.

Simply put: this isn’t the experience I agreed to do. The work asked of me wasn’t marketing not mention mind-numbing. My manager doesn’t appear to have any management abilities, which surprisingly makes life at work more complicated than I thought it would. Not to mention I’m being paid a fraction of what was agreed upon, which the CFO has made clear isn’t upsetting him and won’t be changed.

I would like to think I could handle all of this if the rest of my interactions were positive. Sadly I haven’t been given the chance. Departments have become cliques. And of course my department (in Paris) only consists of my boss, who seems to avoid me so that he doesn’t have to be a manager, and me. Through lunch conversations I’ve found out that most employees aren’t happy at the company and question many of the decisions upper management make, including adding a third mode of security to access the office. You now have a code to get into the building, a key-card for the first door to the company office and then your fingerprint for the second. It’s no wonder I don’t feel the warmth or even welcomed by peers. I am grateful to have made the few connections I have.

I won’t go into details but each week it seems something happens that makes the experience harder. Though my parents must be sick of coaching me through different situations, this is ultimately one of the biggest learning experiences I could have. And after almost quitting many times I have decided that three more weeks of listening to pod-casts and doing mind-numbing work is worth the letter of recommendation: that I have done everything they have asked of me, even translating business jargon filled reports into French. After weeks of letting this experience cast a dark cloud over my stay in Paris, I have decided to not obsess over it anymore. Besides who else can say they moved to Paris and found a marketing internship when the economy is so awful? I can. Besides: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. It wasn’t clear for a while but it looks like I’ll survive and that this experience has made me stronger.

Click here to see pictures from Colombe's Baptism.

And here to see pictures from the celebration after! What a fun day!

Click here to see pictures of the first Apple Store in Paris! It's pretty impressive.

I just want a pickle...

Ever since visiting John’s grandparents in Italy I’ve been intrigued about growing my own vegetables. At almost every meal we had salad provided by John’s grandfather’s garden. This is partly what made buying my own hot-pepper plant so appealing but it’s also, perhaps, what made me come up with the great idea of making my own pickles!

If you know me well, you know that I love pickles. There is just something great about them. So this isn’t as random an idea as it might seem to someone who doesn’t share the same love for pickles. Besides: part of my adventures in Paris is about trying new things, right?

First step: research. I spent a significantly more time than I ever thought I would researching on how to pickle cucumbers. Which cucumbers are best? What method should I choose? How long does it take? In case you ever decide to do this: there are a million different ways to make pickles. My method: brining overnight followed by the refrigeration method.

Step two: not getting lost in translation. I figured out everything I needed, which is easy in English. I almost forgot that I had to figure out how what things like Mustard & Celery Seed are in French! This part was not as easy as I had hoped. Luckily, I’ve been cooking here long enough to know what most of the ingredients were and where to find them.

Step three: the search. Let me just say that looking for small cucumbers is not only hard but not so much fun. Not to worry: it took a morning but everything was found.

Step four: the brine. I chose to brine my pickles because it would help speed the pickling process. This may come as a surprise but I don’t always have the patience to withstand time. Making the brine was simple but rather stinky. It took 24 hours of the apartment smelling like pickle but we could finally move on the interesting part.

Step five: preparing the jars. Once the brining is complete you have to then decide what seasonings will accompany your cucumbers in the jar (in my case it’s onion, garlic and fresh dill). You also have to prepare the sauce, which is less potent than the brine, and then pour the mixture into jar. I have to admit I now understand why purchasing pickles is appealing: it not only takes less time but consuming the pickles is less messy.

And now we wait. I still have a week, at the earliest, until I can taste my pickles. I’ll be sure to let you know how it happens but so far so good.

UPDATE:

John and I opened up the pickles last night. Sadly, I learned the distinct difference in vinegars. Substituting one for another didn’t work so well and the pickles were a little too sweet for my taste. But it worked. I made pickles! Definitely not something I think I’ll do on a regular basis but a pretty cool thing to say I’ve done.