No, we weren’t going to eat butterflies, I just had them (butterflies that is) because I had invited our French tutor, Monsieur R, his wife and his son and grandson to dinner.

If you recall, Monsieur R had us over for soup and apéritifs while his wife was away, so we could meet some locals and practice our French. While we had a great time, we did not get much French conversation practice as he was the only French person there.

We had never met his wife, but we had heard a lot about her.

Both Mick and I wondered why Monsieur R had invited everyone to his home while his wife was away. She visits her mother, who resides outside of Paris, for one week every month, and we got the sense that these little gatherings were a common occurrence during her absences.  We have also been to his home now on numerous occasions when she has been there, but again we had never met her. She always remained upstairs during our lessons.

Monsieur R’s son and 6 year old grandson were visiting for a few days. They live near Lille and only visit Fenouillet once or twice per year. “Of course they can come” I had said when Monsieur R mentioned they’d be here.

So now there would be six for dinner. That did not give me butterflies. I can handle that easily. So, why was I worried?

During our French lessons with Monsieur R we have learnt a lot about him.

He has told us on many occasions that he only eats organic products (they are called BIO over here) – BIO products are very important to him and his wife. He explained that his dedication to eating only BIO products has resulted in his good health (for a man of 70 years of age – and he does look very fit and healthy), and that of his mother’s good health, (she is a very healthy 92 year old who lives near Strasbourg). Monsieur R told us it was his mother’s strong influence concerning the consumption of only organic produce that has resulted in his adherence to the same philosophy.

More information Monsieur R has provided us with during our lessons is where he buys his fresh produce each week and which restaurant he dines in (every Sunday after the BIO markets) because of the well-priced BIO foods on its menu. He told us that he does not consume cows’ milk, but will eat cheese made from sheep and goats’ milk – that’s why when we went to his place we took some sheep and goats’ cheese we’d bought at the markets he told us to go to.

Monsieur R also told us that he eats very little meat, perhaps twice per week, and only (BIO) chicken and (BIO) rabbits (bought from the local farmer Monsieur T who Mick bought his rabbit from too).

The soups Monsieur R prepared for us when we dined in his home were made from only organic vegetables and lentils and beans. (And they were delicious by the way!)

And one final thing he had told us about his diet was that he does not drink alcohol, or if he does it is a very moderate amount.

So, what to make for him and his wife, son and grandson? This was one of the things causing my butterflies. But there was something else.

It was what I knew about his wife, second wife actually – most of the information having been provided by Monsieur R in fact – that was bothering me.

He had told us that his wife was a feminist, (absolutely nothing wrong with that). He also told us that although she can speak English she has a very strong ideal that when in France, non-French-speaking individuals should speak in French, or try to speak French.

At this point I need to put into perspective the extent of our study of the French language, because, I know I have been giving the impression that we are pretty good, or at least improving, and that we are able to make ourselves understood in different situations, but especially in those situations involving the consumption of French wine. Now for the truth.

We have had (only) six one-hour lessons with Monsieur R since we have been here. Before coming to France, I listened to a Michel Thomas language course (several times over and over on my morning walks) and I enrolled into the second level French course from The Coffee Break Academy (which I am still only half way through – the exact place I was when we left Australia). I have made extensive notes of words and phrases in both French and English and my own phonetic shorthand to help with the pronunciations. I have been trying. Very trying Mick might say. He just listened to me saying different phrases in French for several months before we came here in December last year. He is not really interested in ‘learning’ French through these old-school approaches, he is convinced he will pick it up through ’emersion’, and he probably will. He certainly understands a lot of what is being said.

From other people, we have heard that Monsieur R’s wife is an intellectual, a historian in fact.

So that’s the background for my concerns over this upcoming dinner.

The morning of the dinner I got up feeling worried about my capacity to fulfil all the requirements for the meal and the entertaining as well as my capacity to converse in French with people I did not know. But that feeling turned into one of determination (not to be bullied by anyone) and one of indifference (who cares if it doesn’t go well?;  it will be over in an hour or so; how late can a 6 year old stay up for in France ? etc etc)

I decided to make two vegetable soups and to offer it with some BIO bread, knowing Monsieur R does not eat bread, but I thought we would and perhaps his son would.  We knew also that his son did not adhere to the strict dietary requirements of his father, and I assumed a 6 year old boy would have different tastes all together.

Mick took his preparation for the evening seriously………….

………. by continuing to read a French history book he has been enjoying here – La Vie en Bleu. While the title is in French, the book is written in English and Mick has been sharing with me some of the more interesting facts as he discovers them. Having been a student of history himself, he knew some of the details described in the book, but there are huge swathes he has been discovering for the first time. Perhaps he could discuss some of these with Monsieur R’s wife?

Mick also told me he had a surprise up his sleeve that would help out if and when the conversation became difficult.  I wondered what that would be?

Meanwhile, I prepared two soups using the BIO ingredients purchased especially for them. And, I also prepared some sentences in French describing what the soups were and some sentences about general topics such as the concert my sister and I went to a few days earlier.

I chose to make carrot, turmeric and ginger soup, and creamy vegan tomato soup.

Yes the soups were both very orange as they each had a large amount of turmeric (curcuma) in them, and the carrot soup was very thick (pictured on the right). But I thought they were both delicious.

At the last minute, we thought we should also add the remainder of a very nice beef curry Mick had made when my sister was visiting, thinking Monsieur R’s son might prefer that with some rice. Mick also cooked a sausage for the 6 year old grandson, as Mick knows how much little kids love sausages and tomato sauce.

Neither of us was really looking forward to the evening. We opened a bottle of wine while we waited which cheered us up a little.

Just check out Mick’s face!!

All the nibblies on the table were BIO, and the soups and curry were now warming as we waited for the guests to arrive at 7pm.

Once the introductions were over and drinks offered, in my well-rehearsed French I described the menu and explained that everything on the table was BIO. I also explained that everyone should help himself or herself to what they would like to eat.

So far so good.

It was at this point Monsieur R’s wife gave Mick and I a shock by explaining that they were not 100% BIO consumers, rather that they ate as healthily as they could, but they weren’t purists (my word not hers). Okay, good to know – thanks Monsieur R.

But what happened next shocked us both even more.

Monsieur R’s wife went across to the stove top and served herself a healthy serving of Mick’s delicious beef curry – the non-organic and very meaty meal we thought the son would enjoy. The son also had a serve of the curry, while Mick, Monsieur R and I had one of the soups. Everyone went back for seconds or thirds, and Monsieur R’s wife insisted that Monsieur R had to try the curry. He ended up having two serves!

Meanwhile, the 6 year old boy (who was extremely well behaved and happily entertaining himself for over an hour by playing with his Lego and plastic zoo animals) was invited to the table. He was thrilled to see sausage and tomato sauce with rice on offer and congratulated Mick on his great choice. He cleaned his plate and even asked for more. Obviously this type of food is not available at his grandparents’ home.

While the soups were nice, Mick’s beef curry was voted the best course followed closely by the sausage and tomato sauce.

We finished the meal with the cheeses I know Monsieur R will eat and some BIO figs, as well as some gorgonzola cheese. Everyone seemed happy.

Mick was a star though – not only because of the meals he’d made, but because he was able to win Monsieur R’s wife over by talking in broken French, but mostly in English, about  the book he was reading and they enjoyed quite a long time discussing French history. Well done Mick!

But he still had one more surprise – even though it wasn’t really necessary as things were going better than we had thought – but he decided to do it!.

He went and got our host’s didgeridoo and explained to the 6 year old boy what it was and how it was played. The adults were very interested too. Mick then gave a demonstration of the cyclic breathing that was necessary and everyone had a go. The second best player on the night was the little boy, the others could not make it work.  When the little boy’s father had a go, the boy got the giggles and kept repeating something to his father. I asked what he was saying and was told that he was telling his father the noise he was making was a farting noise. Our grandsons would have packed up at that. Obviously farts and farting is universally funny to boys, even grown ones like Mick!

At 10pm, the family decided it was time to go – even though the little boy was by now running around the kitchen with a sugar high from some ice cream we had found in our host’s freezer. Everyone very graciously thanked us for a wonderful evening. Monsieur R’s wife brought me a gift of two French magazines to help me with my studies, which was very thoughtful.

In conclusion, the butterflies were for nothing. Monsieur R’s wife was delightful and everyone was very easily pleased. There had been a lot of fuss over nothing. The only thing Monsieur R had told us that seemed to be the truth and nothing but the truth was to do with his consumption of alcohol – he did indeed only have a tiny amount, to be sociable, but that left more for Mick and Monsieur R’s son.

FOOTNOTE: One thing we discussed during the meal was so amazing to both them and to us that I will write about that in a separate post. It answered some questions Mick and I had from an encounter just over two year ago.