As the centuries progressed so too did the structure and attendance of these Salons. By the late 19^th and early 20^th century, the hostesses were almost as famous for their own intellect and writing as the guests they entertained. The women we think of in this category of salonnière are George Sand, Gertrude Stein, Colette and Edith Wharton. The list of their invitees was no less a who’s-who of 19^th century greats in music, art, academia, theatre and literature than at the birth of these Salons. Some of the most notable guest included Balzac, Frédéric Chopin, Oscar Wilde, Noel Coward, Cecil Beaton, Eugène Delacroix, Ernest Hemingway and Pablo Picasso.

Some of these hostesses, the Great Ladies, were highly original with extraordinarily intriguing personalities. Catherine de Vivonne, Marquise de Rambouillet is one such woman and is often credited with the creation of the French Salon. In the late 1590s, she was brought to Paris from Italy to marry the son of a rich French nobleman. Quickly bored with her life, lacking all connection to love and incensed by the lack of culture and style that surrounded her, she began to accumulate in her presence the very essence of what Paris is now famous for: food, conversation, style and literature.

About a hundred years later, after a string of other salonnières, another undeniably influential member of this particular genre of Grande Dame appeared on the French scene: Madame de Pompadour. Of course, Pompadour was a courtesan, the King’s mistress, and thus enjoyed another stratosphere of luxurious notoriety and popularity. However, her mark on the style and graces of French culture cannot be denied. She surrounded herself with great minds and great talent and as a consequence made both the standard of sophistication and elegance in Europe.  Voltaire, as well as the Sun King, was devoted to her.

Other Grandes Dames salonnières include Madame Geoffrin, Princesse Mathilde, Empress Joséphine, Madame du Deffand, and Germaine de Staël.

Madame de Staël is a fascinating case. Living during the reign of Napoleon in the late 1700s, her father was a rich banker, one of the richest men in France, and she was in her own right one of the women in French post-Revolutionary history with the most political power and influence. The story goes that the evening she met Napoleon at a ball in Paris’ exclusive 7ème arrondissement she was eager to talk to the newly appointed ruler of the land about the progress of the country and how she thought she could aid his cause. She wanted him to acknowledge her, perhaps even to fall under her charms thus extended her special brand of political influence. But he completely ignored her. When she did finally stalk him down, the exchange between the two apparently went so badly that people spoke of it for years to come:

‘General!’ she said. ‘Who most represents your ideal of a wife?’

‘Mine!’ replied Bonaparte.

‘That is simple enough, but what kind of woman would you admire the most?’

‘She who is the best housekeeper,’ he answers.

In a flurry of frustration, Staël continues, ‘Who is the greatest woman alive or dead?’

Bonaparte turned to face her. ‘The one who has made the most children.’

(Holdforth, p 184)

Napoleon was known to fear, or at the very least to be intimidated by, the power French women held over politics and thought in France. His views are only too transparent from his exchange with Madame de Staël, particularly when we remember that she was the most famous female political figure of the time. Her Salon was patroned by Napoleon’s speech writer, his Minister of Foreign Affairs and most of the rich and powerful members of society. Madame de Staël was eventually exiled by the Emperor which only, to my eye, reinforces the truth regarding how much power she wielded in post-Revolutionary France.

Of course today these Salons are no more. Or perhaps they have taken another form nowadays. I’m not quite sure what the cause was of their eventual demise. Perhaps modern society places less importance on such things; or perhaps now that most of us can attain a higher education, these sorts of gatherings are done on a more informal basis in living rooms and coffee shops around the world. Perhaps we thoughtful folk now discuss through blogs and comments or email rather than face-to-face over port and petit fours. Perhaps the formality of the thing is the only part that has disappeared? Or perhaps it’s a consequence of the demise of the leisure class. Or, even still, perhaps today’s leisure class has other less cerebral concerns to discuss during their gathering. I’ve often thought what a delight it would be to reintroduce the formal custom, to create another generation of literary Salons in Paris.

On verra bien!

For more in-depth reading on this subject, I recommend True Pleasures by the Australian author Lucinda Holdforth, from where I gleaned much of the information found in this post. True Pleasures was a thoroughly enjoyable read.

I perused the shelves of some of my favorite shops. Being a week day afternoon I was left for the most part alone, without the hustle and bustle of tourists and students humming about, to meander and gaze and run my fingertips across the crippled spines of the books à vendre, the raising dust a testament to their age and character.

I have recently been particularly enchanted by Classic English literature. It began perhaps inauspiciously in the autumn of last year with a Daphné du Maurier phase during which time I devoured all her non-fiction and five of her novels.  I should say such an enchantment revisited me as I have, in the past, gone through stages of frantically ingesting Austen and Brontë and Huxley and Orwell in rapid succession. But this last autumn, my pursuit began with Daphné from where I moved on to her grandfather George’s literary works and from there I made my way to H.G. Wells’ A Propos de Dolores and Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence. From Wells and Wharton, I made a short pit stop in the contemporary world of Susan Minot before heading back to the Classics.

For some reason, I just cannot get enough of the mid-to-late 19th and early 20th century’s parsed prose, their Oxford comma usage, the elegant and antiquated language flowing off the pages, and the scenery of a time past drawn out like a photograph before our eyes in long descriptive passages.

I want to jump in and be a part of their world. I suppose that denotes the very best kind of writing. I am its captive.

I left the bookshops that afternoon with my arms full:

• Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray
• Selected Poems, Lord Byron
• Women in Love, D.H. Lawrence
• The Pursuit of Love, Nancy Mitford
• The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton
• Lady Chatterley’s Lover, D.H. Lawrence
• The Portrait of a Lady, Henry James
• Ann Veronica, H.G. Wells

My choice was mainly based on titles I’d read mentioned in other books or reviews, references I felt I should understand but had no direct knowledge of the citations.

guardian.co.uk

Not having majored in Literature during my days as a student, I felt I was missing a block of the foundation of English literature. Hopefully this list will help me close that gap.

When I got home I laid all these books out on my bed and chose randomly with my eyes closed. The Pursuit of Love won out, its musty, dog-eared pages the current delight of my afternoons.

Bonne lecture!

http://www.fubiz.net/2012/02/03/the-fantastic-flying-books/

I’m not usually captivated by animated films as I generally feel they lack some sort of interconnectivity on an emotional level. This short-film by William Joyce and Brandon Oldenburg, however, changed my mind. It is a beautifully created, touching, meaningful example of cinema that brought tears to my eyes in the final sequence. Not bad for a silent film.

Those of you who love books as much as I do, here’s a little thematically relevant something to watch over your morning coffee or afternoon tea.

Apparently it has been nominated for an Oscar. I hope it wins.

And I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

(It gets better and better; don’t give up at the beginning.)

It’s true that in some French stores nowadays you can find certain varieties of apples all year around. But if you pay attention to who buys them, in Paris anyway, it’ll be the tourists, the new comers, the visitors, perhaps ever now and then the young who are cooking for themselves for the first time. As a general rule, the French tend to stick to their seasonal eating habits.

I have to admit that when I first came to France I had no idea when certain fruit or vegetables were in season. Well, that’s not completely true. I knew that citrus fruit were winter produce because when I lived in Florida January was the cultivating season for oranges and grapefruits. Yet, for the most part, when I arrived in Paris, I thought France had a very small selection of produce in their grocery stores compared to what I was used to at Whole Foods, Loblaw’s or Publix.

http://losgatos.patch.com

Over the years, quite contrary to my first impressions, France has introduced me to a whole world of fruits and vegetables I never knew existed. Like fresh prunes, Mirabelle and figs in autumn, or black tomatoes, chestnuts, black radishes, elderberries or even sunroot or parsnip. I grew up eating carrots, celery with peanut butter, potatoes with sour cream, strawberries sprinkled with sugar, bananas and grapes.

I thought lettuce came in three varieties: Iceberg, Romaine and Bagged Mix.

In an effort to share some of the knowledge I’ve gained by immersing into the French culture, here is a list of fruit and vegetables by their proper season.

Bonnes courses!

Spring:

Vegetables

• Artichokes
• Asparagus
• Avocados
• Beets
• Carrots
• English or Snow peas
• Fava beans
• Green beans
• Green garlic
• New potatoes
• Radishes
• Rhubarb
• Spinach
• Bitter lettuces (Arugula, French/Belgium endives, Escarole, Chicory)
• Vidalia onions
• Zucchini

Fruit

• Apricots
• Cherries
• Strawberries

Summer:

Vegetables

• Beets
• Corn
• Cucumbers
• Eggplant
• Fresh herbs
• Garlic
• Green beans
• Okra
• Onions
• Potatoes
• Summer squash
• Summer lettuce (Romaine, Mâche, Butterhead, Oak Left green/red)

Fruit

• Blackberries
• Blueberries
• Figs
• Grapes
• Limes
• Mangos
• Melons
• Nectarines
• Peaches
• Plums
• Raspberries
• Tomatoes

Fall:

Vegetables

• Arugula
• Beets
• Bell peppers
• Broccoli
• Brussel sprouts
• Cabbage (green, Napa, red, Savoy)
• Celery
• Chard
• Fennel
• Garlic
• Green tomatoes
• Kale
• Leeks
• Mushrooms
• Parsnip
• Pumpkins
• Radishes
• Rutabagas
• Shallots
• Shelling beans
• Turnip
• Winter squash (acorn, butternut, spaghetti)

Fruit

• Apples
• Cranberries
• Figs
• Grapes
• Kiwi
• Mirabelles
• Pears
• Persimmons
• Pomegranates
• Prunes

Winter:

Vegetables

• Avocados
• Beets
• Broccoli
• Brussels sprouts
• Cabbage (green, napa, red, savoy)
• Carrots
• Cauliflower
• Chard
• Fennel
• Green onions
• Kale
• Parsnips
• Sweet potatoes
• Turnips
• Wild mushrooms
• Winter squash (acorn, butternut, spaghetti)
• Yams

Fruit

• Citrus (grapefruit, lemons, oranges, tangerines)
• Dates
• Pears

I had never thought of stewing chestnuts before. In fact, I had never even tried a chestnut until I came to France and bought a sack of roasted ones from a street vendor.

I adored this side dish so much at Christmas Dinner that I asked for the recipe and gave it a try myself this weekend. It turned out to be super easy and lick-your-lips scrumptious.

Normally, chestnuts are to be served with wild game meat – venison, duck, rooster, pheasant, hare and the like. But this past weekend, my husband and I made ourselves an early Valentine’s dinner and he prepared a medium-rare steak layered with a slice of Foie Gras and drizzled with a warm peppercorn sauce which made the Foie Gras melt in our mouths. It was delicious.

I was in charge of the sides, so I decided to try the stewed chestnut recipe, even if steak isn’t quite a game meat. I also braised some veggies to go along with our cooking à deux Valentine’s evening-early.

If you’d like to give chestnuts a go, here is the recipe and a how-to slideshow.

Bon appétit!

Ingredients:

• 24 whole chestnuts, shelled, peeled
• 4 tbsp salted butter
• 1 tbsp corn starch or corn flour
• 2 cups brown stock (chicken or beef bouillon)
• water, if needed to cover chestnuts

Instructions:

In a large fireproof baking dish, place the chestnuts all along the bottom in one layer. Bring your bouillon or stock to a boil in a pot. Once boiling, add the corn starch. Blend well. Pour over the chestnuts so that the liquid completely covers the chestnuts. Add a little water if you need. Cut the butter into three sections and place it evenly on top of the liquid. Cover the baking dish and place in oven at 250ºF or 120ºC for an hour.

It is best to make this dish the day before you’d like to serve it and reheat in a sauce pan on the stove before serving. If you don’t have that kind of time, you may need to reduce the liquid once the hour of oven cooking is over by placing the mixture on the stove on medium-high until it turns into a thick creamy sauce. (This is what I do at the end of the pictures).

Click to view slideshow.

A great deal of controversy surrounds this French delicacy. Some believe it amounts animal cruelty. Others see is as a traditional French food, a way of raising an animal to produce a certain type of food that people adore.

I must say that before I moved to France I had never tried Foie Gras. I was against it on some undefined moral level without ever having given it much thought. I saw force-feeding an animal as an abuse. But I never thought about it any further or anymore profoundly than that. I certainly hadn’t been raised in a culture defined in important ways by it.

Since moving to France, I’ve discovered a world of Foie Gras. My belle-famille has a home in Dordogne which is right in the center of the Périgord – the duck region of France – where the gastronomy is littered with magret, confit, Foie Gras, paté, terrine, gésier and much more. I’ve developed a great appreciation for duck as a source of meat.

I wanted to better understand how Foie Gras was made right from the beginning, and so began this series. Our last video, below, shows how the ducks are raised, feed and de-feathered on a farm that practices traditional French methods.

I show it the way I saw it. If you have difficulties with this sort of thing, perhaps you shouldn’t watch. There is nothing disgusting or crude, but it may shock a sensitive eye.

My goal is not to rally for or disrepute duck farming. My aim is to show the reality so that each of us can knowingly make up our own minds.

I hope you find this informative.

We still have choice.

Having moved away from big city American where consumerism is at its height, to a country where culture places a greater emphasis on parts of life other than acquisition, I’ve had the opportunity to witness a healthy model of consumerism.

Some believe that French advertizing, or la publicité as it is called here, is relatively unregulated due to the exposure of bare breasts on television or in magazine ads. I see this question a little differently. Last week, the French powers-that-be removed an ad for an upcoming film in which a male star, Jean Dujardin for those of you who may have seen The Artist, stands facing the camera with a pair of female ankles in high-heels framing his face. The ad was deemed inappropriate and degrading to women. This decision struck me as the exact opposite of what Americans think about French gender-sensationalized advertising.

Interestingly, many of my fellow Americans find no harm in flinging a scantily clad pre-teen on a billboard in a sexually provocative position to sell nylons, a pair of jeans or a hamburger.

Research shows that when we consumers see a pretty face or a sexy body, we want the clothes that made the model look that way. Funny, isn’t it, how the majority of us don’t see through the facade: The clothes didn’t give her that body, Photoshop did.

But I’m getting away from myself again. Consumer advertising power is, truth be told, only as powerful as we allow it to be. And you are, dear reader, only as gullible as you allow yourself to be.

http://freenicearticle.blogspot.com

As consumers, we have a great deal of power to affect change in our society. If, for instance, you decide not to purchase products in non-recycled packaging (packaging that is not made from recycled materials) than companies will be forced to change their game.

True, it won’t happen overnight. But I’ve seen it happen in my own lifetime.

As a child, I was ardently green back when recycling pickups were as likely an occurrence as the Y2K Armageddon. And in the 30-odd years since, every town I visit in the West has recycling programs. In fact, in my mom’s town outside of Toronto, they even have compost pick nowadays. I have yet to enter a grocery store in the previous five years where there wasn’t a green option of toilet paper or cleaning fluids. Companies now even advertise that their products are environmentally friendly and their packaging made from post-consumer material.

http://www.mtholyoke.edu

This is due, at least in large part, to customer preference. Every time we make a decision to use our spending power for a good, we improve the world by that little bit.

We aren’t sheep waiting to be herded into the aisles of stores to spend our money on what someone else tells us we want. We aren’t the infantile, bean-like beings glued to the television and unable to have coherent thoughts of our own, as represented in Disney’s Wall-E.

Companies are in the business if making money. True. But I don’t believe they are deviant entities; they are heartless because their heart is the bottom line. But that doesn’t make them evil. It makes them predictable.

http://www.fairvolks.com

It was announced this week here in Paris that one of our biggest grocery stores, Monoprix, will no longer be supplying customers with plastic shopping sacks. They advertise the move as: “One small personal inconvenience for one great collective good.” Some clever young soul in the Monoprix financial department likely came up with the concept to cut expenses and marketing department knew they could sell it to the public as an environmental decision. We’ve seen the same modus operandi in hotels across the globe with their ‘reuse your towels and sheets’ policies.

http://www.zcommunications.org

The world’s largest oil company, Shell, has invested billions into renewable energies over the past decade. Again, this wasn’t out of the goodness of their hearts. They see the world’s consumer market moving in that direction with hybrid cars and fuel efficiency policies. So they’ve taken steps to ensure they are ahead of the game rather than left behind in the dust.

All these changes, which happen to be positive for the environment, lead back down to the company’s pocketbook. And the company’s pocketbook just so happens to be where you and I have a hand to play.

Michael York

If we no longer buy what they sell, they will change until they offer us something we want. We’ve been told we are powerless against multi-media conglomerates with their subtle manipulation and psychological tools of persuasion.

Fiddlesticks! There are more of us!

We can force change by making thoughtful decisions about how we spend our money. It’s really that simple.

It’s true that in France publicité is hard at work trying to win over the consumers’ hearts and minds. And yet there seems to be more balance in France; parents still know how to say “no” regardless of media pressure; people seem to still understand the difference between need and want.

http://www.ourbreathingplanet.com

Being able to live with enough is almost counter-intuitive to the American Dream. We are encouraged to earn more, want more, succeed more. We are bombarded on two fronts: advertising, and the insatiable American appetite for success.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with the American Dream as long as it is a healthy part of one’s life. As with everything, moderation is the key. All the money in the world can’t make you happy. I learned that when I moved to France.

I’ve learned to ask myself if I need whatever it is I’m gazing at in one of the glossy magazines. I’ve learned to use my consumer power for the betterment of the environment and for the sake of my own peace of mind. At night when I close my eyes, I’m content with my choices and desires. Living in France has taught be how.

I once dared you, dear reader, to take back your privacy. Now I’ll do it again. But this time, take back your purchasing power; make informed consumer decisions.

Go on, I dare ya!

All this got me thinking about putting together a Reference Page that outlines in one place all the information you need to know about the administrative steps of living in France. When I got home from the Embassy this afternoon, I did just that.

So, by way of introduction, let me call your attention to the new page at the top of Becoming Madame entitled “Expat Reference Page.” If you are in need of practical information regarding the steps to take when you are applying for your carte de séjour (student) or carte de résidence (familial) or getting your health care card or exchanging your license or getting married in France, take a peek at this page for all the links to the relevant sites and information, as well as the inside scoop.

I’ve been there and it was ghastly. (Especially because most of it was done before I became fluent in French.) I didn’t have anyone to guide me. I feel the least I can do is try to outline the system and the labyrinth of steps for the next ones who come alone.

If you have a particular question, please don’t hesitate to send me an email. I’d rather spend a half-hour explaining something to you than you spending four hours in the wrong building and having to start all over again. (Been there too, and it’s so demoralizing!)

I hope you find this new page useful.

Bonne lecture!

I popped out this morning to capture the moment, as it likely won’t last the day. Although it’s been very cold here in Paris this past week, and this morning was no exception, perhaps it will stick around a little. The snow is lovely. Reminds me of home.

You’ll notice the roads are unsalted and very few cars test their chances. People continue to line up for their Sunday baguette, though. Then again, I think the French would line up for their baguette under any conditions.

Bon visionnage!

Paris has a number of lovely, quaint bookshops all over the city. Some specialize in antique and hard-to-find or second-hand books, others offer the latest releases. I have a propensity for the former and as such have created a list here of my favorites. I’ve thrown in, for good measure, all the other stores in Paris, to my knowledge, which sell English books.

Most of these shops are open from Monday to Saturday from around 10-7; some are open seven days a week. Check the websites below for more details.

I hope this proves to be a useful guide for your next trip to Paris!

Bonne lecture!

The Red Wheelbarrow
22 Rue St-Paul, 4ème
Tel: 01 48 04 75 08
Metro: St-Paul or Pont Marie

Walking into this shop in Paris’ Marais quartier, you feel like you’ve entered someone’s home library. The friendly service and wide range of stock, including a children’s section, makes this bookshop a favorite.

Shakespeare & Company
37 Rue de la Bucherie, 5ème
Tel: 01 43 26 96 50
www.shakespeareandcompany.com
Metro: St-Michel

One of the longest standing English bookshops in Paris, Shakespeare & Company is certainly the most famous. The current owner’s father, George Whitman, was ceded the name when Sylvia Beach’s bookshop, infamous as the original publisher of James Joyce’s Ulysses and intimate of Ernest Hemingway, closed down after the Great War. Since 1951, this second-hand bookshop has developed into a tourist attraction in itself. S&C has a second store beside the main shop that sells antique and hard-to-find books. Throughout the year the upstairs floor is used for writing clubs, author readings and discussion groups.

The Abbey Bookshop
29 Rue de la Parcheminerie, 5ème
Tel: 01 46 33 16 24
www.abbeybookshop.wordpress.com
Metro: St-Michel or Cluny-La Sorbonne

Canadian owned and run by Brian Spence, this two-storey quaint independent bookshop in Paris’ Latin Quarter specializes in new and used books both in English and French. Throughout the year The Abbey Bookshop organizes a number of events including author readings, discussions, and the like.

Village Voice
6 Rue Princesse, 6ème
Tel: 01 46 33 36 47
www.villagevoicebookshop.com
Metro: Mabillon

The owner of Village Voice, Odile Hellier, sells new English books which focus on literature, culture, politics, and contemporary social issues. They host regular readings by international authors.

Tea & Tattered Pages
24 Rue Maynet, 6ème
Tel: 01 40 65 94 35
www.teaandtatteredpages.com
Metro: Duroc

As a tea room and bookshop in one, this little shop is rather hidden away on a tiny street in Paris’ Saint-Germain quartier. Browsers are free to look around the books and then enjoy a tea with a slice of homemade apple pie.

San Francisco Book Company
17 rue Monsieur le Prince, 6ème
Tel: 01 43 29 15 70
www.sanfranciscobooksparis.com
Metro: Odéon

This large bookstore near the site of the original Shakespeare & Company offers a wide range of used English books. They also buy books on a book by book basis.

The Book Cellar
23, rue Jean de Beauvais, 5ème
Tel: 01 46 34 62 03
(no website)
Metro: Maubert-Mutualité

Much like the other quaint bookshops on this list, The Book Cellar offers a selection of English books along with a wide range of French literature.

Berkeley Books of Paris
8, rue Casimir Delavigne, 6ème
Tel: 01 46 34 85 73
www.berkeleybooksofparis.com
Metro: Odéon

Berkeley is another second-hand English language bookstore in Paris’ hip Saint-Germain area. Run by book lovers Phil Wood and Richard Toney, Berkeley also buys books on a book by book basis.

WH Smith Paris
248 rue de Rivoli, 1er
Tel: 01 44 77 88 99
www.whsmith.fr
Metro: Tuileries or Concorde

As one of Paris’ largest English book stores, WH Smith makes up for what it lacks in charm with its undeniable selection. They specialize in all genres of new books and magazines.

Galignani’s
Rue de Rivoli, 1er
Tel: 01 42 60 76 07
www.galignani.com
Metro: Tuileries or Concorde

Galignani’s bookstore prides itself on being the first English language bookstore on the continent (in Europe). In a lovely wooden parlor atmosphere, they offer a wide selection of English language books. Throughout the year they host a number of prominent English and French authors for readings and discussion. Galignani’s also has a large online presence and in-store ordering system for hard-to-find books.

Gibert Jeune
10, place St-Michel, 6ème
Tel: 01 43 25 91 19
www.gibertjoseph.com/livres.html      Metro: St-Michel, St-Michel Notre-Dame

This is the primary bookstore for French and student books in Paris. They also sell, however, a large selection of English books. If you are a French language student in Paris, this is where you will need to go to buy your cahiers and texts for class. With several stores lining Blvd Saint-Michel, you can find DVDs, CDs and books all in one place. (As an aside, FNAC, France’s answer to Best Buy or Future Shop, also offers a large range of English books, DVDs and CDs.)

ATTICA
106 bd Richard Lenoir, 11ème
Tel: 01 55 28 80 14
Metro: Oberkampf or Parmentier

ATTICA is a bookstore of language studies which has specialized in all language skill material for the last 30 years. They offer the largest selection of such books and teaching materials in Europe with over 30,000 references in more than 200 languages.