Yes, dear readers, it was French night at
the Montmartre end of Croydon Hills, the second Dinner Party Project event. It
was a time to celebrate all things Parisienne, paying homage to the Eiffel
Tower with the obligatory statue as our table centerpiece and subjecting our
eardrums to many repeat plays of the Manhattan Transfer mumbling ‘Chanson
d’Amour’.
Our guests—longtime and valued colleagues
and their spouses—arrived in varying degrees of French fashion. Berets were the
order of the day for Bernie, Ian and myself, while Raelene and Jen opted for
leetle black dresses (tres chic).
Marg looked ooh-la-la in her satin and feathered
can-can concoction, dressed as if she’d come straight from stage of the Moulin
Rouge (well, maybe not exactly; her outfit thankfully included a bodice).
Dapper Dante came attired a la Inspector
Poirot, poised to investigate potential crimes against French cuisine. While strictly
speaking his character was not French (as Poirot himself would no doubt remind
us), it was close enough. Wayne rounded off our little group in his suit and
tie, looking all the world like a waiter—which turned out to be handy, because
that’s what he became.
Escargot and frogs legs were off the menu,
but onion soup was on. Speaking of which, I have a gripe or two with the
Francais regarding this dish.
Gripe one: the recipe said to cook the
onions till they were dark brown and sweet, noting that this could take a
while. The recipe was right about that. It took three hours. Gripe two: after
three hours of reducing, there wasn’t too much liquid left in the saucepan and
I had to serve eight bowls out of it. H’mmm. The solution? Drink some more
champagne, and frankly that’s the only liquid you need.
There’s something about French food that
reminds you that life is good and that food is as much about fellowship as it
is about filling your stomach. There’s a delight in following a recipe that has
been cooked by generations of people who have also shared stories, laughter and
a good wine over dinner.
Indeed, how can you go wrong with the rich
flavours of slow-cooked beef bourguignon, its garlic and onion-infused gravy
soaking into the silky mash? Or the warm, smooth chocolate sauce poured over
the light, cream-filled profiteroles? Actually, we could have gone wrong there,
because choux pastry can be tricky to make. At least, it might have been tricky
had we tried to make it. Luckily we didn’t.
M’sieur Coles came to the rescue there.
And so the second Dinner Party Project came
to end, but not before we enjoyed a sip or two of port and a selection of
cheese. Bon nuit, mes amis.
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