dimanche, octobre 23, 2011

Nouvelles de Montreal. Postcard from Montreal

L'hiver Canadien approche et comme nos amis Sciuridés, pour pouvoir supporter les températures qui baissent,  il faut se sustenter.

The Canadian winter is around the corner and in order to survive the cold days ahead, one must prepare.
So, what are two French guys, my nephew and a colleague, doing research in Montreal to do?
Discover the pleasures of a North American brunch.
Now comes the hard part: explaining what a brunch is to family and friends who have never crossed the Atlantic Ocean.
~
Heureusement, tout comme leurs voisins Américains, les Canadiens ont l'habitude de fêter la fin de la semaine en dégustant un délicieux repas: le Brunch.
Pour les non-initiés, le Brunch représente la contraction de deux mots Anglais ( et par la même occasion deux repas) en un: 

le Breakfast ou Petit-Déjeuner 
et
le Lunch ou Déjeuner.

Pour les curieux qui veulent en savoir plus, cliquez sur le lien ci- dessous.


Apparemment, au Canada, le matin, il n'est pas question de grignoter des mets légers tels que tartines et viennoiseries. Le Brunch doit tenir au corps, et je me permets de partager avec vous les photos prises par mon neveu Dimanche dernier.

Deux assiettes bien remplies.

Oeufs au bacon, haricots blancs en sauce, beurre de cacahuètes...
Bacon and eggs, toast, fries, baked beans, peanut butter....
Oui, ce sont bien des frites que vous apercevez sous les tranches de bacon!
Mais il y a quand même 3 petites rondelles de bananes....
I am told that's vanilla custard in the cup...
~
Needless to say, the photos above will surprise those used to the traditional Gallic morning fare:
 black coffee, croissant and a cigarette.
But after all, this is Canada where temperatures will soon drop to frigid lows, and one must prepare. 
According to our intrepid scientists, brunch was delicious.... And filling!
~
Pas question de se laisser aller. L'hiver approche et il faut se préparer.

Photos prises par TDG.







samedi, octobre 22, 2011

RUGBY MANIA!

There comes a time when a nation has to put its differences aside and bond for the greater good, and this week-end France is doing just that. The Tricolore is out, stores have run out of blue, white and red paints and berets are seen everywhere.


 Rugby is king, and France is facing New-Zealand in the final game of the Rugby World Cup!




The road to the final has not been an easy one and the French media have been hard on our Bleus. Ranked third overall they started strong, beating Japan and Canada. In the next game, and to the dismay of their supporters, they were roundly beaten (37-17) by New Zealand. On the 1st day of October they found a way to lose 14-19 to Tonga!!!

But in the next two matches France defeated its arch-rival England (19-12) and narrowly beat Wales (9-8).
So, here we are facing the mighty All Blacks, in Auckland tomorrow.

Needless to say things are not looking good. Raised on Camembert and Foie Gras, our Bleus are facing the fearless "Invincibles" who tower over our guys, and once on the field, scare the pants off you by doing their Haka dance!


Yes, friends, that is a scary sight! But the French media is happy to report that some of our finest bottles of Bordeaux and Burgundy have been shipped to Auckland along with one of our nation's top chefs to bolster the team.
Meanwhile the New Zealand newspapers are talking trash and trying to scare us....


But guess what? We are ready, bring it on....



Allez Les Bleus!
Allez la France!



October 23 @ 2PM on NBC. Wear your beret and raise a glass. 
(You can watch the Texans any time!)


lundi, octobre 10, 2011

For the Love of Gumbo.

Last Friday was a special day at the McC Library. First, we had a crew from the technology department come down from Conroe to re-image the two library computer labs. Second, to celebrate the occasion, and show our appreciation, Pat decided to make gumbo.

Below Pat explains the place gumbo holds in the Louisiana Cajun culture and graciously shares her recipe.


********

"Growing up and visiting my Cajun French aunts and cousins in South Louisiana, gumbo was a staple at the family table. In Southwest Louisiana, when the temperature dips below 40 degrees, it is time for gumbo! Gumbo is always present at football tailgate parties; you know you are getting close to Death Valley ( the LSU football stadium) when you can smell the roux!

Duck hunting camps served duck gumbo. Seafood gumbo was common during shrimp and crab season; I have made many a seafood gumbo myself and it is my favorite Cajun dish!

My French Cajun aunts and cousins served sausage and chicken gumbo regularly, it was cheap, healthy, wholesome for the children. Chickens could be had for $.29 a pound, and Savoie's or Richard's pork sausage was cheap and always on sale. Add a handful of mirepoix, a little shortening and flour for the roux, some white rice, and you had a delicious, nutritious, filling, hot meal for your husband and 9 children!

A thrifty Cajun housewife would serve gumbo at family gatherings, including Thanksgiving and Christmas. When you have 8-9 brothers and sisters over, and they each have a houseful of children, plus all the memeres and papas, gumbo is the logical choice for a big feed!

Every family has their favorite brand of rice. Our's was Mahatma Extra Long Grain White, which would be considered frou-frou by my thrifty cousins. They preferred the short-grain, which was cheaper and just as good (they said).

The sides served with gumbo include saltines crackers and potato salad. Most of the time you would just put a dollop of potato salad on the side of the bowl of gumbo. Large crowds would have to eat standing up, or sitting on a tree stump or a lawn chair, so it was impractical to balance a separate dish for the potato salad. The potato salad was usually very plain and bland, the coldness and blandness to offset the spice of the gumbo. It just sort of melted into the hot mixture of gumbo and rice, something we all ate and never thought twice about. Sometimes when there was extra money or a special occasion there would be a loaf of French bread served, but that was rare. With so many children already running around and more always on the way, there were few luxuries!
If there was dessert, it was usually bread pudding, which was made form day-old French bread bought for a song from the local grocery. That was a special treat for all when Papa allowed a splash of whisky in it!

When the Acadians were cast from their home in Nova scotia by the dreadful British, and made their way to Louisiana, they made friends with the local Indians and Creoles from New Orleans. The Creoles had been brought to New Orleans from haiti as slaves, and gumbo was their native dish. The Creoles taught the Cajuns how to make their staple soup, gumbo, and the Indians taught the Cajuns how to use the lush and bountiful Louisiana flora and fauna to create delicious dishes."

"The Cajuns created a culture and tradition all their own!"


"Sausage: I used Savoie's mild smoked sausage.
I found Emeri's essence seasoning at Randall's in Panther Creek.
I use Kary's prepared Roux in a jar, about 3/4 cup."


*********
Janice brought a beautiful and delicious salad that was gone before I had a chance to take a snapshot of it.

Terry baked red velvet cupcakes. the yummy frosting is a well kept family secret, and I will ask her if she is willing to share it with us.



 Knowing my baking abilities, my co-workers asked that I bring Saltines® crackers and grapes.....

Needless to say, it was a great "Lunch-Bunch" day.

Thank you Pat, for sharing your gumbo and Cajun traditions!

samedi, octobre 08, 2011

From the Land of Nothing to the Land of Plenty.


Racontée en photos.....
La vie d'une Malgache qui a découvert l'utilité du plastique jetable et refuse de s'en séparer.

************


It all started with containers sitting on the kitchen counter...  
" Corinne this is nuts! " 
" Why do we need so many plastic containers? " He said.
" You know they are disposable, don't you? "

Dixit Phillip : " On ne jette rien dans cette maison! "
" Oui, en Afrique on garde tout! "

I admit I am strongly attracted to disposable containers.
And there is a darn good reason for this.
Looking at the photo in the right margin of this blog you may have guessed I grew up in some  exotic foreign lands.
 Yes, and that may be a story...


I am proud to say that I am a "bush baby" : a child born in French colonial Africa, 
raised in the Madagascar bush.

Mom, Dad and me. 
En famille à Ankazobé.

My dad, on the left, playing with snakes....
Les charmeurs de serpents. Bas Sambirano, Janvier 53 .

In the early 1950's the French government sent my parents to the remote areas of the "Red Island", Madagascar. 
I was born in the capital, making me a  Zanatane,  a name given to a French citizen born on the island. 
Since my parents were born in France, they were dismissively called " Z'Oreilles " meaning "ears".
Many explanations are put forward to explain the term. The most commonly accepted ones are:
1 -because the tropical sun turned their ears red
2 - they tilted their ear forward trying to understand the creole language
3 -  they were sent from France to spy on the local population.
~
1952
Départ pour " Mada " histoire d'aller cartographier l'intérieur, 
les hauts plateaux et la brousse de l'Ile Rouge pour le cadastre.

Etymologie des Z'Oreilles

My " Z'Oreilles " parents in Tana 
( short for Tananarive, the capital, now named Antananarivo )
Les Z'Oreilles à Tana...

 Our life was frugal and gipsy like.

Bémanéviky, 1952
The house and the village main street.
La case et l'entrée du village


?????
La Mahajamba, Mai 53.

Constantly moving along as my father kept on mapping the remote areas of the high plateaus.

The life of a civil engineer.
Triangulations et points géodésiques. La vie d'un "topo" en brousse.

My mom kept us alive with her vegetable garden, 
(she didn't know then it was organic)...
and a practical common sense .
We never threw ANYTHING away!
Lunch on the beach.
Casse-croûte sur la plage.

Most things had to be easy to pack, lightweight or foldable.
~
Une vie nomade.
Il faut avoir un sens pratique.


Each village chief was required to accommodate the  new visitors by providing a house. 

La "case", creole for a house. 
La case, en général trouvée par le chef de village.

Graciously assigning villagers to help the family.... 

Sifting rice to separate the grains from the husk.
Décorticage du riz.

And at times a prisoner--This woman beat up her husband-- to watch the baby.
La nénène qui était parfois un prisonnier...

 I am proud to say it was three years before I first saw electricity.

Feeding ducklings.

On the veranda with my brother.
Sous la véranda avec Denis.

When we finally returned to the capital, I promptly humiliated my parents at a fancy restaurant in Antananarivo by saying out loud: " Wow, look at all those Petromax! "--the local name brand of gas lanterns. This was a dead give away that despite your education, hard work and fancy clothes you had just stepped right off  a plantation or out of the bush !
~
A trois ans. La perle.
" Et bien, y'en a des Petromax ici! "
La paysanne sort de sa brousse et humilie ses parents dans les restaurants chics de Tana.

On the left : my parents at the Corsican Ball in Antananarivo ....
A gauche: les broussards au bal Corse.

I know there comes a time when reason has to prevail.
But.
Now living in the land of plenty, this African gal still has a hard time parting with the finer things in life..


Veloma !


~








~

jeudi, octobre 06, 2011

A Sad Story....

We arrived on a cold, windy Blue Day: La Journée Bleue.


(Traduction en bas de page)

A few days ago I came back from my first visit to " La Belle Province ", which is the nickname for Quebec.  It was a short three day trip, mainly spent in Montreal, to meet family members who had flown in from France. 



On Sunday, we rented a car and drove east to discover one of the oldest cities in North America, the beautiful city of Québec. Needless to say, we fell in love with the Historic district of Old Quebec, the Château Frontenac ...


and the quaint houses lining the winding streets.




I won't go into the long history of this major cultural center of the French speaking world.  A quick internet search will tell you all you need to know about it. Instead I will mention the ache nearly every Quebecois carries in his or her heart.



The Nordiques are no longer playing hockey in their fair city! 

The Blue Day celebration is planned and celebrated yearly, on October 2, until the Québec Nordiques come back home to play in the new arena that is being built.


One may ask : Where did the Nordiques go? 

Eliminated by the New York Rangers during the 1994-1995 season, facing rising players salaries, a weakening Canadian dollar, located in one of the smallest market in the NHL, in May 1995, they were sold to a group of investors. 

The franchise moved to Denver and was renamed the Colorado Avalanche!

But many die hard supporters are not giving up and hope their team will soon be back on hometown ice.

So, to ease our collective sadness we ate a poutine and drove back to Montreal hoping that in the near future the residents of Québec will get their wish.

Allez les Bleus!
**********

Une courte visite à Québec nous a permis de découvrir cette belle ville historique et d'apprécier la ferveur de ses habitants pour le hockey sur glace. En 1995, l'équipe locale, Les Nordiques, a été vendue à un groupe d'investisseurs américains et a quitté Québec pour s'installer à Denver sous un nouveau nom : Les Avalanches du Colorado.
Depuis l'année dernière, la ville se réunit chaque 2 Octobre en espérant le retour prochain de leur équipe.

**********

Québec Fête les Nordiques
_________________________