Fall is a special eating time in our area, fall festivals, Oktoberfests, pumpkin pies, apple pies…all this food made me think of some international experiences my family and I have had with food.
In the spring of 2000, we took our two children to Europe for the first time. We had planned a week’s vacation visiting friends who lived in Normandy, France. The plan was to spend some time in Paris and then a few days in Normandy. We wanted the children to see the beaches of the World War II invasion, and one of our friends was an expert on the history of the war. It would be quite an educational experience for all of us.
What I didn’t realize was that it would be a lesson in culinary etiquette for my teenage son. He wasn’t a great one for trying new things. The first night at dinner at our friend’s home, he gave me a funny look as the meal was being served and barely ate a thing. My dear friend, Martine, noticed and later that evening she asked me what foods Timmy really liked. I told her that he loved pizza, and so she offered to make pizza the following evening.
My son was expecting Pizza Hut pizza, not what Martine served. When she explained as we all sat at the dinner table that she had tuna pizza and ham pizza and anchovies pizza, I looked at my son whose eyes were at least twice their normal size. “You will eat this pizza if you want to live until tomorrow,” I gently whispered in his ear. “Try the ham pizza, you like ham.” Bless my poor son. He gleefully downed his ham pizza and smiled while he was doing it. Later that evening I told him how proud I was of him for trying something new.
A few nights later, we set out with our friends to visit a region of France further west. We stopped at a hotel in a very small town to spend the night. The following morning at breakfast, my son was in for another culinary experience.
The waitress came to our table and asked for our breakfast beverage orders. She offered coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. My son leaned over to me and whispered, “Mom, I don’t like any of those. Do they have milk?” I asked the waitress about milk and she agreed to bring some to the table with the rest of the beverages.
My son was quite pleased to have something at a meal that he wanted. I think that it was also a comfort to him to know that he would be fussed at for refusing to consume what was put in front of him.
The waitress placed the pitcher of milk in front of my son and he quickly poured some of the white beverage into his glass. He lifted the glass to his mouth and took a large gulp. His eyes widened just before the white liquid came spewing out of his mouth! The milk was warm, and my poor son was taken quite off guard.
I am proud to say that over the years, my son has improved in his international gastronomical experiences. He’s eaten shark and squid and even haggis in Ireland. It is comforting to know that our children do indeed grow up.
This post ran in my column The Empty Nestin the Frederick News Post on Sunday October 2, 2011.
