Today was a fabulous day spent with family and best of all, even though I’m still in Paris, we ended up having a full taste of American Thanksgiving. Philippe made green bean casserole, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, along with a peach cobbler for dessert! We didn’t have turkey as shown here, but we did have chicken prepared similarly, so it was a fabulous and mostly traditional meal. It was fun to share a little taste of America with my French family. And since France truly appreciates food, even the whipped cream in a can, served with dessert, was simply real whipped cream with no cheap alternatives. In other words… utterly delicious! I hope all of my friends in the States who celebrate this day, had an amazing one. Happy Thanksgiving to you! And even if you don’t celebrate the day, mine was proof that all you really need is good food and family to feel very, very thankful any day of the year.
Since peach cobbler is one of my favorites, it was the food highlight of the day for me. The last time I had it was on my birthday this year, which also happens to be National Peach Cobbler Day! Attempting to translate “cobbler” was rather difficult because the first definition is a shoemaker, and that’s what Google Translate serves up first. Actually, the dessert we were actually eating didn’t come until the third definition. The fourth is particularly embarrassing as it’s the British slang for “a man’s testicles” (the dictionary editors bizarrely felt the need to make it clear that we’re referring to male and not female testicles). The last definition comes to us from Australia and refers to the last sheep to be shorn. Needless to say, serving a dessert to my French family that shares its name with shaved sheep and testicles, left me wishing it had been called something else entirely.
Despite language barriers and unfortunate translations, the day was absolutely perfect. Also, while I was here, I snuck in an extra painting for my little niece of her “doudous” (which is a French term for little cuddly toys that provide a bit of comfort). I gave it to her today and her initial reaction was to look past the picture and make sure her real doudous were still there, and hadn’t been magically trapped inside a frame. Once she confirmed they were, she proudly went around showing everyone her painting. These are the moments that touch my heart and remind me that there’s so much to be thankful for on this day. Those wonderful little moments shared with family are the ones that we remember for a lifetime. I don’t get to see my family here very often so it makes the time spent even more precious. Something so rare that it almost feels like finding gold. And though I may never again enjoy a day quite like this one, I’ll always remember fondly that time I unexpectedly had Thanksgiving in Paris.