FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

All the colorful French words are in the story. Enjoy and Happy First of May! (Painting by my niece. Notice the dogs: Izzy, Ricci, and Loca--and our doves on the rooftop.)

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE...by Kristi Espinasse

Dear Reagan,

I hope you enjoy these memories as much as I enjoyed your visit last weekend…

After a semester in Italy, my niece has finished her study abroad program. Instead of flying straight back to the U.S., she returned to spend three more days with us in France. Wherever my niece lands she brings her adventurous spirit with her and she needs little advance notice to be ready to explore: she’ll simply throw her hair back in braids and illico presto! she’s out the door. 

As Reagan is the kind of person who says chiche—“I’m in!”—to just about anything, whether it’s sampling prickly oursins or trawling in Uncle Jean-Marc’s boat, we easily let the weekend unfold: wandering down to the calanque in Figuerolles, where we stumbled upon a movie set (a first for Reagan), hiking up to the sémaphore, a watercolor session on the sandy shores of Plage Lumière, or a spree to La pharmacie St. Jean for French lotions and potions. 

The night before Réré flew home, we introduced her to a decadent French tradition. “Raclette,” I explained, “is a kind of grill that you plug in and set in the center of the table. Beneath it are a series of little pans, or, poêlons, where each person adds a slice of fromage en tranchettes. After the cheese melts, you use a small spatula to scrape it over a boiled potato and add the accompaniment of your choice: ham, salami, coppa, prosciutto. Mushrooms, onions, sliced peppers, and more can be added to the grill above….” 

It’s a convivial and amusing way to gather for a meal. Depending on your table’s shape, it can be tricky to reach the grill, but Ana happily took charge of refilling Grandma Jules’s pan. Jean-Marc, at the end of the table, barely managed to set his pan beside mine—just in time to steal my just-melted cheese. Keeping an eye on my husband’s wandering hand, I listened as we all began sharing our favorite memories from Réré’s visit...

One highlight was an event at a beautiful seaside hotel, L’Hostellerie La Farandole, where Max had invited his cousin to a wine tasting. Not just any dégustation: it was the world-renowned Château de Pibarnon, and Eric de Saint Victor, the owner, was there to host. “We each had our own platter of cheese,” Reagan shared, “and we sampled several wines while Eric spoke. It was so interesting!” 

The next day, Max met up with us for a randonnée along le chemin de Sainte-Croix, and we each brought our dogs, Izzy, Loca, and Ricci. The hills are bursting with flowers this time of year: cistes, lavande, immortelle, coquelicots, valerian, and yellow broom steal the show… until you reach the top of the colline, where the cliffs of Cassis are stunning against the navy blue sea.

We followed the dogs back down the path and returned to kidnap Grandma for lunch at Max and Ana’s: roasted chicken, gratin dauphinois, and a strawberry tart from the bakery—until I hinted it was time for my sieste.

That evening, as I served chipolatas and roasted vegetables, grilled directly on the oven’s slide-out tray, Max shared an amusing word for roasting pan: lèche-frite—literally “lick-fry,” named for the way the ingredients (often fries) are set there to catch the drippings from the rack above.

Lèche-frite reminds me of lèche-vitrine (“window licking,” or window shopping), something we never got around to with my niece. It seemed she had already licked windows in Italy for, after the raclette, Reagan handed out gifts. We gathered around the coffee table to accept the presents: a beautiful bracelet for Ana from Florence, a bottle of wine from Tuscany for Jean-Marc, pasta tweezers (for twirling and plating pasta) from Rome for Max, and two watercolor paintings: for Grandma, a postcard-sized painting of the coastline seen from le parc du Mugel; for me, a delightful watercolor of our house—complete with all the dogs and even the tourterelles! The whimsical painting reflected my niece’s personality: bright, happy, energetic, clever, and well-balanced. If this painting could talk it would shout chiche! Yes—to life and all it has to offer!

As I reminisce about my niece—with her auburn braids, striped socks, and that sparkling smile—I’m reminded of my favorite childhood heroine, Fifi Brindacier. Not just for her wild hair and free spirit, or for her creativity (though she has that à gogo), but for the way she says chiche to life—that playful French dare that means “I’m in!” Bold, imaginative, generous, and always up for adventure, Fifi is a reminder of the joy in being fully yourself.

See you next summer, Réré. Whatever we do, I’m chiche to join you—braids, stripes, and a spirit of adventure… just like yours.

Love,

Aunt Kristi

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FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the French words below

chiche = I'm in! / game!

illico presto = right away

L’oursin (m) = sea urchin

la calanque = rocky inlet or cove

le sémaphore = signal tower / lookout station

la Plage Lumière = Lumière Beach

la raclette = a simple dish of (melted) cheese, potatoes, and cured meats

le poêlon = small pan

le fromage = cheese

en tranchette = in thin slices

la coppa = cured pork shoulder

le prosciutto = prosciutto / Italian cured ham

la dégustation = tasting (often of wine or food)

la randonnée = hike

le ciste = rockrose 

la lavande = lavender

l’immortelle = everlasting flower / helichrysum

le coquelicot = poppy

la valériane = valerian (wildflower)

la colline = hill

la sieste = nap

La chipolata = chipolata sausages

la lèche-frite = oven drip pan

le lèche-vitrine = window shopping (literally “window licking”)

la tourterelle = turtledove

Fifi Brindacier = Pippi Longstocking

Reagan, Max, me, Jean-Marc and Ana (who just celebrated her 29th birthday. Joyeux Anniv, Ana! Click to view photo (if it is not visible here)

REMERCIEMENTS
Merci beaucoup for your continued support of this blog. The internet is brimming with places to see and things to read—I’m truly grateful you take the time to visit here. Special thanks this week to:

Jed C.
Janet A
Ronnie H.
C-Marie P.

God bless you two! --C-Marie

J'aime vos histoires. . . . SVP, continuez les!! I love your stories....please continue them. --Jed

A SHIPPING CONUNDRUM

Now through July 1st, I’m able to ship my book A Year in a French Life at a very low fee. But starting in July, international postal rates will skyrocket—from 5 euros to 35 euros—as books will no longer qualify for the special “cultural” shipping discount.

If you’d like a signed copy, now is the time to order!
The price is $35 by check or Zelle.
For PayPal, please add $5 to cover fees ($40 total).

To order, simply email me at [email protected]

Wishing you all a joyful Premier Mai! In France, it's tradition to offer un brin de muguet—a sprig of lily of the valley—for luck and happiness. You’ll see these charming little stands all around town, set up just for the day. 🌿 Photo taken this morning, in the background notice Ile Vert, or Green Island.