Cheese First, Then Cake

We knew after being invited out several times into others’ homes, that we couldn’t let our small apartment stand in the way of returning the favour.  So, we set the date for November 26th à partir de 18:30,  and began the preparations to host our first soirée french style.  We knew that above all we needed wine and cheese and then add some yummy finger style food to fill out the menu.  Barry set out to get the two most important items on our list.  First stop, a swanky looking wine store with dimmed lighting and black and purple colouring, where Barry told the proprietor that he was hosting for the first time some French friends and wanted some suggestions as to what wine to serve.  All Barry remembers of the first bottle he was shown was the 80 euro price tag.  Needless to say, as much as we appreciate our new friends, he settled on several bottles much less expensive:  a white from the Alsace region and a red from the village of Vinsobres.

He took the same approach at the fromagerie and left with 3 very large slices of “brie de meaux”, “époisse coupe” and “ossau iraty 6 mois” costing just under 20 euros.  These names meant nothing to us:  they were just hunks of super stinky cheese!  Even Grace, who has always been the family’s biggest cheese lover, was put off by the pungent odour that hit us as Barry unpacked his white paper-wrapped purchases.   Some fresh bread, green olive and basil tapinade spread on bread slices, ham rolled with soft garlic flavoured cheese, fresh bunches of purple muscat grapes, quiche lorraine and pizza ordered from the place around the corner filled out our menu.

As I cleaned, I had to use a little creativity to rearrange furniture so everyone had a place to sit, and the girls had a place to play. Including us, we had to make room for a total of 13.  We have to admit we were a little confused and surprised when the second guest to arrive was an unknown bearded man toting a bottle of coca cola with his daughter.   Asking him who he was seemed a little rude, so I took the bottle of coke from him while welcoming them both.  I wanted to say to him that it must be a real party if people off of the street were showing up, but worried it wouldn’t translate so well.  It quickly became clear that he was good friends with one of our invited guests and we were glad they were comfortable enough to invite him and his daughter.  As it booted our head count up to 15, it did take some last minute rearranging of of the seating situation, however!

We call this our first french dinner party, but really it was a multi-national mélange.  Apart from the four Canadian hosts, there was an Italian, a Japanese, and a Spanish all who have made their home here in Avignon. It made for some fun cultural exchanges.  For example,  the Frenchman, Benoit  was shocked when Roberto from Spain suggested that Barry add coca cola to his wine as the Spanish do on hot summer days.  And then Elena, our Italian representative enthusiastically encouraged Barry when he joked that he would be writing to all his Canadian friends that the French drink coca-cola in their wine, while  Benoit pleaded “non!,” and clutched his heart

Here’s another story that made us laugh that night.  When Benoit and his friend Laure asked what they could bring, Barry just threw out “bring an hors d’oeuvre” thinking that this was a french word and would be an easy request for the french couple.  However, that night they admitted that Laure kept asking Benoit “What does he mean by an “hors d’oeuvre” “and had to research in several books a dish that would be suitable.

Everything really did seem to be going very smoothly.  Even our unexpected guest was so at ease he proceeded to fall asleep on our wicker couch:  a feat I would have sworn impossible!   As food plates became empty, Barry and I had a quick tête-à-tête in the kitchen about what needed to be served next:  cake or cheese.  I know, if it was time to call a friend you would have all yelled “Pick the cheese!  Say cheese!”  and this was Barry’s vote.  But I couldn’t back down from taking the trick question angle: “Cheese seems the correct answer, but I’ll say cake!”.  I swore that I remembered having the cheese after sweets at one of our earlier get togethers and that I read about this unusual french order in some or other book.  So, Barry acquiesced and out came the cake.  I headed back to the kitchen to get out our very stinky cheeses, cut some bread and arrange the grapes on several plates.  I was feeling pretty proud: I had never arranged any group of platters that looked so French!  However, as I walked in to serve my first carefully arranged plate,  there was a palpable pause in the conversation, and even before Laure’s eyes widened and she remarked that she had never seen cheese served after the cake, I knew that I’d made the wrong call.  Quickly Elena said “Hey, but there’s grapes with it, so it’s not a problem!”  Our sleeping guest promptly awoke at this point saying “And there is a good reason for this order, the cheese is very strong!” (See, I really wasn’t exaggerating, this cheese stank!)  Benoit just seemed very happy that at least we hadn’t forgotten the cheese, and proceeded to hold each plate up to his nose and with great concentration play “name that fromage” by smell alone.  The Canadians, we were impressed by his olfactory party trick. And the cheese?  Among the best we’d ever tasted. Grace made the comment that if you could quickly get it past the nose, it was delicious!

It was a very busy evening, but very worth it.  Everyone did seem to enjoy themselves.

On Monday over coffee we discussed  the evening with a husband who wasn’t able to attend due to a business trip.  I remarked, in total jest, that I had made a serious rookie error and had served the cheese after the cake.  We knew that he and his wife had discussed it when he, with a drop of the chin and a shrug of the shoulders, said in a low and serious voice “Vous n’avez pas eu une choix!  La fromage était très puissante!” (You didn’t have a choice, the cheese was very strong!)

So, our guests were kind to excuse away the little mistake and we’ve been able to amuse numerous other French people with it. It goes something like this.

- You brought the cheese out after the cake?? How long have you been in France?
-Well over 3 months, but we don’t get out that much.  And, the cheese was very strong.
-All the same it is a mistake, but not a serious one, just a funny one.

And then we all laugh.

We are having a smaller get together tonight at our place, and I can assure you the dessert will be the last thing we serve.