Paris Do, Paris Don't

#74 DO La galette des Rois

It’s that time of year again for those flat golden flaky cakes to start popping up everywhere from a box at your local Monoprix to your neighborhood boulangerie, it’s La galette des Rois. The french hate monarchy for obvious reasons and take great pleasure in the idea that some fancy kings had to give a lowly barn baby some gifts, très égalité. The French celebrate this special moment of monarchical humiliation with a traditional cake during L’Epiphanie. A strange set of rituals surrounds the consumption of this holiday dessert as a tiny Christ Child figurine is baked into the galette and then ends up concealed inside a flaky slice on an unsuspecting diner’s plate. Not surprisingly, the only way the French can stomach Jesus (like anything) is if he is buried in layers of butter, flour and sugar. To further punctuate their general disdain for Christ, whomever ends up with the baby Jesus in their mouth has to wear a humiliating Burger King crown and is obliged to buy the cake for the next year’s celebration…either that, or they might just die, sort of like the French equivalent of Russian roulette: responsibility or death, both equally grim conclusions. Choking hazards aside, using delicious sweets against both monarchy and the Church is an effective way to instill in children republican ideals while still making way for yet another public holiday, mission accomplished France—power to the people, power to the pastry!

#66 DON’T Thanksgiving

Roasted poultry, root vegetables, wine, a warm and veritable meal to be shared among friends and family…sound like just another Sunday in Paris.

If we recall last week, we know that the only Thursday in November a Parisian might get a glimmering of excitement over is the third. Parisians don’t even know what Thanksgiving is, and why should they? Their ancestors wouldn’t be caught dead taking strange and unregulated food offerings from suspect native populations: ‘Was this acorn mush properly aged 5 years at a steady temperature of 8°C? Do you really expect me to wash this down with just water, is it even mineral, pfftt?!?’ The French would rather starve—probably also explains a thing or two about their colonial legacy. So, no, celebrating a predominately vegetable driven ‘feast’ that sprung up between starving teetotaling strangers with ugly hats is nothing to celebrate, in fact, the only thing the French are probably thankful for on this day is that they don’t have to be thankful for Thanksgiving. Merci, mais non merci!

#65 DO A Red Scarf

Winter is upon us in the City of Light as the temperatures drop and the [tasteful] Christmas decors rise. But what truly marks the beginning of the holiday season is the appearance of l’écharpe rouge. Gentlemen of a certain age adore this accent and I would presume they look forward to the moment they get to whip out this festive little fillet more than any other occasion throughout the holiday season. While men are generally no exception to #11, when it comes to a splash of color, the red scarf is like the perfect 10 swan dive. It probably has its origins in Jacobin dalliances but carries throughout the long history of French mode. French men feel extremely daring with this little accessory as one can note the extra spring in the step of a Parisian in a red scarf. It is a strategic nod to both history and culture with a dash of panache—they’re really living on the edge. I mean, who needs a red Ferrari when you could tie a red Hermès cashmere knit and silk blend esharpolange around your neck…Parisian midlife crisis diverted.

#63 DON’T Beaujolais Nouveau

The French take their wine very seriously and while the rest of the world falls victim to the beaujocraze at the strike of midnight on the third Thursday of every November (sort of like a French Thanksgiving), Parisians remain beaujoblasé. It’s too light, too fruity, too blah for the Parisian palate—it is just too nouveau to really be enjoyed. Parisians only like French things loaded with age and history, Beaujolais lacks both as it only became popular in the glorious 90s along with other moments of questionable French taste such as rollerblades and Jamiroquai. I imagine Beaujolais for Parisians is like that catchy pop hit or mistress that you enjoy occasionally but can never take very seriously. Nevertheless, Parisians do take great pleasure in the daft hype over this whatever wine and love to pass it off to the crude foreign markets all the while saving those Grand crus just for themselves.

note: the proof is in the pudding

#36 DON’T Bastille Day

It seems like everyone but the French actually celebrates Bastille Day. If you ask any Parisian what they are doing for le quatorze juillet, they will sort of guffaw and say they will be at their family home in Aubagne, Bergerac or Plouzané. I have a hunch that the Bastille Day firework parade spectacle is just a carefully orchestrated French conspiracy to draw the tourist out of the woodwork and into a single concentrated point on the Champs Elysees. The French use Bastille Day as a pretense to quarantine the tourist in hot miserable July Paris so Parisians can smugly retreat to their vacation homes in the countryside sans annoying foreigners. In truth, Parisians are just celebrating a day without a tourist—I mean, who would honestly celebrate a prison riot anyways?!