Photo: Statues, Chartres Cathedral, Chartres, France.

LES SOLDES! If bargains are what you are looking for, then there is no better time to visit Paris than mid-point (late Jan to early Feb) during the big government-regulated sales. Now in it’s last few days, the other day I hit the soldes in the Opera/Saint-Lazare area for one final look and ended up coming home with an unplanned but incredibly huge bag of treasures. My take? Five scarves, two belts, a necklace, a skirt, three tops and two pairs of pants–all for the astounding price of 22 euros, equivalent to about $34 CDN or $28 US! This was the original price on one of the belts alone. The day before, several tour gals scored so many good buys that I’m sure their jubilance alone could have been enough to fly the plane back home! Another friend snagged an incredible butter soft leather jacket for just 20 euros. So don’t forget next winter in Paris. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know as soon as the government decides to leak the coveted information about future sale dates (summer ‘07and winter ‘08).

VICTOR NOIR, PART TWO. Thanks to the readers who sent comments about last month’s entry on Victor Noir (refer to article). Seems my article on the dead, but notoriously rakish Victor aroused people’s curiosity the world over…so here you go folks, the evidence and your vicarious thrill for the day (wink).

Photo: Guylaine Rondeau

HEY, WHAT LANGUAGE ARE YOU SPEAKING? Recently, I was introduced to verlan, a form of slang created by authority-resisting French youth in the banlieues (suburbs). Verlan generally retains the pronunciation of the original syllables, but inverts certain syllables and often drops the final vowel sound after the word is inverted. For example, femme (woman) becomes meuf. Flic (cop) becomes keuf. Sometimes, proper French-speaking Parisians and teenagers sprinkle verlan words into conversations for fun, which I really just noticed for the first time the other night. I asked a friend’s teenage daughter how school was going. It was relou, she said. Huh? I said. Are you fonsde, she replied? This kid loves to torture me with language trip-ups, and we have ongoing French-English slang showdowns. So after having some fun with me, she gave me the lowdown on verlan and provided translations for her statements. She thought that school was boring (from the word lourd) and was I stoned (from the word defonce)? Okay, I get it, a sort of a Pig Latin. It’s not bad enough that I have to contend with the classic French language and ALL of its complexities? Such as, having to multiply and add to say some numbers, feminine vs. masculine, formal vs. informal, a million exceptions to the rule and conjugating 12,000 verbs?? C’est ouf (fou=crazy)!

HAGGIS: A BAD FRENCH RAP. Recently at a popular Paris watering hole, my friends and I met some Scots. They had been living and working in Paris for over a year. I asked, did you have a Robbie Burns celebration in Paris on January 25th? Well, yes and no they said. They explained that while some events had taken place in the city, a ‘proper’ celebration was not possible. Why not, I asked? It seems that France would not allow haggis to be brought into the country, deeming it ‘unfit for human consumption’ or something along those lines. Haggis (gagging as I write) is one of the most important food elements of a Robbie Burns celebration. In addition to copious amounts of Scotch whiskey, of course, which I’m sure is required in order to get the haggis down. I was shocked! This rejection, from a country that considers (gag-me-with-a-spoon) TRIPE to be a national culinary favorite?? If millions of French people can consume with great gusto the stomach contents of animals on a daily basis, then why not allow the laddies their beloved (but reviled everywhere else) dish on one special day? Aye, pass the whiskey!

HOW I KNOW I AM IN PARIS: Because I had the following interesting food discussion with some friends, one of whom is a food writer in Paris. One friend asked me what poutine is because I had referenced it in my last newsletter (see article). This conversation was especially amusing, considering the above article about haggis/tripe. I started explaining:

Me: "Well, it’s a Quebecois dish that consists of pommes frites (French fries), covered in sauce (gravy)…

Food Writer Friend: (interrupting). "Sauce? They put sauce on the frites?"

Friend #2 (who has been to Montreal): "Yes, it’s really thick and is a funny-tasting kind of sauce…"

Me: "…and then that is covered with a certain kind of cheese, I don’t know what this is called here, it is a melted cheese curd…"

Friend #2 (interrupting): "It’s some kind of processed stuff that tastes like plastique! There is no equivalent in France, it’s not REAL cheese."

Food Writer Friend: "Quelle horreur!" The dish was deemed as being significantly incorrect and unimportant in the French culinary scheme of things, so was dismissed. Next subject.