Au revoir. Not Adieu.

(For an explanation on the difference between au revoir and adieu, see Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. The French version is better, but the English version will do. If you already know the difference, you should read it anyway.)

I’m back here. Back in the United States of America. I’m proud. I’m happy. But I’m sad too. I miss my friends. I miss France.

The return journey was as long as anticipated. After all was said and done, I arrived in Chicago 24 hours after leaving Angers. I’d say I slept about 2 of them.

Customs and security were nothing like the media hyped it up to be (long lines, angry tourists, and even angrier customs agents). The customs guy was really nice, made small talk, and stamped my passport. Only one of those happened in France. I’ll let you guess which.

My parents met me at O’Hare. It was great to see them. In America. It was great.

My luggage did not meet me at O’Hare. That was not so great. After some confusion over a certain flight from JKF to O’Hare that I booked back in January, I switched planes and my luggage didn’t. No matter. It met me about 40 minutes later when my original flight landed.

And so here I am, more than a week back in the U.S. and quietly reflecting on my time in Europe. It’s nostalgic really. And I’m not sure I like it.

That is not to say my feelings on the U.S. probably being the best place in the world have changed. Pas de tout. In fact, if my stay in Europe taught me anything (other than how to open a bottle of wine with and without a corkscrew), it’s that America is pretty great. Awesome even. But I miss some things. And some things I though I liked about the U.S., I’m not so sure anymore.

Things I miss about France:

~Bakeries – You read my last post (if you haven’t, Go to Jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200 (or is that Euros?) and/or read it now). America just doesn’t have boulangeries or patisseries or viennoiseries like France. It’s sad. It’s true. Let’s just move on.

~French – I miss speaking French. I miss hearing French on the streets, in stores, on TV, etc. It’s strange, almost uncomfortable, to here English everywhere. I did bring some French books home, but don’t tell anyone because I didn’t claim them at customs. Does that make me an international book embezzler?

~The pictures that litter this blog. (All from Angers)

Enough said.

Things I though I liked about the U.S. but now I’m not so sure:

~The small talk – Before France, I loved small talk. I loved the “How are you?” you ask the cashier at the checkout of Meijer (or even the police man before he gives you a ticket), the “How about that weather we’re having?,” and the, “What about those (insert sports team here)?” And I admit that I complained about the French being a cold people (absolute zero has nothing on the French). But the small talk and constant politesse seems too automatic and not genuine. And maybe it isn’t even that. Maybe it just annoys me now. It’s probably the latter.

~Starbucks – I loved a good Frappuccino (registered trademark of the Starbarks Corporation) or americano or latté or what have you. But now, I’m not sure I like the Starbucks atmosphere. It’s not at all like the cafés in France that I miss. And the coffee is no good. I’m still going to go there, but I’m not going to like it.

There’s a good list to get us started, but I don’t want to be a Dennis Downer (even though I often revel in that). There are some good things that I get to take away from this experience, too: great food, unforgettable travels, new friends, delicious food, over 2000 pictures, even more delicious food, and memories I’ll have forever.

Studying abroad was easily the best decision I’ve ever made. Thanks to everyone who made it possible: Dad and Mom, Notre Dame, and SUNDEF 44.

And thanks to you for reading my adventures. I hope that you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. If you feel so compelled, you could go ahead and send my blog to newspapers, book publishers, English teachers, food critics, etc. I wouldn’t mind being paid to do this the next time around.

This is the last post for Angers Management. You can keep checking back, but if you do that, it may be time to consider therapy (and/or online dating). Should you want more of my arid sarcasm and witty banter, I have a twitter. I’m not even a little bit ashamed of that. Or if you want to contact me, e-mail me at dennis.j.goebel@gmail.com.

It has been quite the four months. Quite the four months, indeed. And so I bid you and France, au revoir. Or perhaps, more familiarly, à plus (tard). But not adieu (seriously read Le Petit Prince).

~Dennis

My Bakeries in Angers

I am officially back in the United States. My feelings on this will be made clear in a later post. Before that, I have one last post regarding life in Angers. Soak it in. Soak it in.

What is a culinary cheapskate to do? I can’t spend every meal in lavishly expensive restaurants eating only the finest food France has to offer. That will come in a few years. On the other hand, to miss out on the French culinary world would be a shame. Compromise: bakeries. They are a staple in French culture and are relatively inexpensive.

Whatever your preconceived notion of France and bakeries is, it is probably right. 1) They are everywhere. (Except in Paris. There are no bakeries in Paris.) 2) The French eat bread every day. It’s not an uncommon sight to see a baguette under a man’s arm on his way home for lunch and/or dinner. Nor is it uncommon to see the same baguette in the reusable grocery bag of a woman on her way back from the market or grocery store.

Before we start, you need to know three words:

~Boulangerie- this means bread: baguettes, pain tradition, pain aux cereals, etc.
~Patisserie- this is the sweets and pastries. You have to go to school to be a real pastry chef in France. Common things you’ll find in a patisserie: fruit tarts, chocolate cakes/tarts, macarons, little cakes, mille feuilles, etc.
~Viennoiserie- this is a special dough that is leavened with yeast. Familiar things on the menu: croissants, pain au chocolat, pain aux raisins, brioche, chausson aux pommes, etc.

More often than not, you’ll find some combination of the three. So go in hungry. Also, the cakes in France are simple, single layer circles (or squares) that may have a simple decoration on top. None of this Ace of Cakes nonsense.

On my last days in Angers, I went on a little tour to visit my favorite bakeries one last time. I couldn’t leave without getting one more taste of the pastries/breads/viennoiseries that I’ve fondly grown accustomed to in the past months. There were also a couple chocolate shops thrown in there for good measure. Ok. So I did all of this in one day. Don’t judge me.

Doréenne.

Doréenne is about a 5-minute walk from the University at which I was studying all this time. I’d often stop in for a snack during the day or on my way home (it wasn’t on the way, but I made a little detour). There are three ladies that work the counter at different times of the day. They are all really sweet. Like their relatively cheap pastries (between 2 and 3 euros).

La Gringotine

This one is just down the road from Doréenne. It has really cheap croissants and pain au chocolat (.55 and .70 euros, respectively). It also has some pretty fine sandwiches and panini for lunch. My favorite was the Poulet Complet.

Another two minutes down the road is Benoit.

Benoit is a pretty good chocolatier in Angers. They have a chocolate boutique and a café in separate buildings. On the boutique side: I really enjoyed the dark chocolate ganache and almond praliné. Also of note, their hot chocolate is on of the best in the city (and it comes with a macaron).

Over by the post office is the Jardin des Saveurs.

I didn’t get there often, but when I did, I always got a pain au chocolat (1 euro). It was my favorite in the city. Also, they have free samples of different breads and whatnot inside. So I filled up on those too.

Not far from the Cathedral is Petit.

This is a small (petit) pastry shop. It is the one to see and be seen at in Angers. Their pastries are on the expensive side (4 euros), but they are worth it. I had a chocolate cake there on the last day that was unbelievable. They have good macarons there, too.

Au Petit Moulin is by St. Joseph’s Catholic Church.

I went to St. Joseph’s many a Sunday morning. Conveniently enough, Au Petit Moulin is open until 1PM. After church, about half the congregation would head on over to get bread or, in my case, a pastry (there is a good business model for you). I really liked their “religieuse”: a small cream puff on top of a larger one to create a two-balled snowman-like figure flavored with either coffee or chocolate (note: religieuse means nun).

Speaking of chocolate: Louvigny.

Louvigny is over at the Place de la Madeleine. It’s a good ten-minute walk from the University in the opposite direction of my house, but it is worth it. Louvigney is easily the best chocolatier in town. His chocolates are all made in house by either him or his Japanese wife. My favorites were the Earl Grey Tea, Sesame, Java, and dark chocolate from Madagascar. The macarons at Louvigny are wonderful. My favorites: coffee, dark chocolate, and yuzu (Japanese lemon).

Over by the train station: Le Grenier à Pain.

Le Grenier has one of the best Baguette Paysanne (1 euro, .50 euros for half) in town. Also, the croissants (.95 euros) are the best in Angers. It is the perfect balance of flaky and buttery with a nice crispy exterior and soft interior. Perhaps even better than the bread and croissants, it is open all day on Sunday.

Two doors down from Le Grenier: La Boulangerie de la Gare (Gare means train station).

I didn’t get here as much as I would have liked, but their brioche is heavenly. They also have some pretty nice looking pastries, but I never indulged.

And finally:

This bakery doesn’t have a name. It’s a little boulangerie exactly one minute from my house (I timed it). She had terrific pain tradition (1 euro, .50 euros for half) and pain aux céréales (bread with grains) that I would dine on a couple times a week (or more).

So those are my favorite spots in Angers. I’m sure there are others that I missed or looked over, but these ones kept my happy through the four months. And most of them were also relatively cheap (except where noted).

Should I ever return to Angers, I’ll be sure to visit some, if not all, of the bakeries I lived off of these past four months. For now, I have the memories and pictures. Unfortunately, I’m starting to get hungry…

Le Château d'Angers

Author’s Note: This post was written during my first week in Angers (back in February). I now present, in my last post while in France (there will be a few more in America), the Château d’Angers.

Flourish.

The Château. I saw many a picture in preparation for this trip, but none of them really do the castle justice. This thing is huge. And ancient. Its origins date back to something like the 12th or 13th Century. In my opinion, it is less of a castle and more of a fortress. Whatever.

First glimpse:

Note that the flag in this picture has three fleur de lis.

Side one of four:

Do you get an idea of the magnitude I’m talking about here? And this is the smaller of the sides.

In my life, I never though I would see a real mote. Surprise. There is a really big one here. Unfortunately, the water has since been drained and the sea monsters… well no one knows what happened to the sea monsters. There are some pretty gardens in their stead.

It is deeper than my swimming pool.

The front:

Allons enfants de la Patrie…

When I say Draw, you say Bridge. Draw!

There were workmen actually replacing the bridge, so it was not very photogenic. If you ever come to Europe, just be prepared for every monument to be under construction. Every one.

Cannon Balls!

Inside the castle walls sat a Church like building. The building wrapped in bubble wrap recently burned in an electrical fire. Not to worry, though. The French government is funneling millions and millions of dollars to restore it back to its former glory.

Note the weird trees. They are everywhere in Angers.

And a house built into the side of the castle.

Angers has its own kind of pretty.

Let's be honest though, there is more gray in this picture than on the head of any 95 year old bridge playing grandma. That is the Maine River in the background (and even the water is gray).

Back in the day, Angers was a huge producer of stone slate. How appropriate that nearly the entire castle is made from the local bounty. Here is a ramp in the castle made from slate:

And a wall outside of the castle.

Inside the castle rests one of the most impressive and largest tapestries in the world: the Apocalypse Tapestries. You see, that slate doesn't do the greatest job keeping the castle warm, so tapestries were commissioned to cover the walls of castles and keep them insulated. Unfortunately, this tapestry got cut up, sold, bartered, set aflame, used as a doormat, and dispersed through the years. However, much time and money has been spent collecting and restoring it to its former glory.

Believe me when I say it was impressive. No pictures were allowed unless I wanted a middle aged, very intense French tour guide to tackle me to the ground (no thanks). The tapestry is something like 4.5m high and over 100m long (~15ft x 330ft – that is to say longer than a football field). Some parts are missing and/or cut up, but the restoration was a definite success. The images recount the story of St. John’s Book of Revelation. Some liberty was taken, however, in the retelling of the apocalyptic literature (e.g. the English are always the enemy/devil).

The Château and the tapestry impressed me more than I though they would. I hope you can at least get an idea of the scale of this behemoth. Alas, pictures do this sort of thing little justice.

I admit that I’ve taken the Château in Angers for granted over the past four months. It really is a beautiful building in its own respect. And there is a certain reserved tenderness behind the intimidating architecture. Like a gentle giant, quietly watching over its city. But I wouldn’t want to get all poetic or anything.

Lunch With the Ladies

I’ve had a list of “Things to do in Angers” all semester. And precisely because I’ve had it all semester, I put nearly every item off until the last week. Alas, some of these things will go undone. Lunch at Le Favre d’Anne is not one of them.

Perhaps you recall me making a big deal about restaurants in France. Perhaps you recall that even before coming to France, I had my eye on a Michelin one star restaurant conveniently located in right in Angers with not so terribly outrageous prices and a view of the city that is priceless. Perhaps you recall that.

After going on about restaurants and French food all semester, you might be surprised that no less than three of my friends wanted to go with me. We made a reservation for lunch on Friday afternoon.

That’s Laure, Laura…

me, and Kiany.

The restaurant is an old house, and the inside is nothing spectacular: white tablecloths, pretty table settings, etc. The standard fine dining fare. It is the terrace that makes this restaurant so special.

We sat at a table for four in the shade of a nice tree (complete with birds and bird poop – which was professionally cleaned off the table before we received our menus). The weather could not have been any better. Here was my view.

That is the Cathedral and Chateau.

When presented with the menu, I encountered a problem: the prices. Me being the only male present, mine was the only menu with prices (this theme persisted throughout the meal). Unfortunately, the lunch menu (and prices) only comes with a special reservation. No matter. We are here, it’s sunny; let’s celebrate!

We each ordered the three-course fare. After that, there was only one decision to make: fish or meat. For the rest, we put our trust in the chef, who is known for his inventive twists on French cuisine. This is exciting.

The amuse bouche. Radish ice cream with butter and something mousse.

As strange as radish ice cream sounds, it was brilliant. On a warm, sunny day, the cool, icy texture and subtle radish flavor made for a perfect starter. The mousse was a little bit of a mystery. The butter taste was dominant, but no one could make out the other flavor. We all preferred the ice cream.

Next up, I got the fish.

I forget the name of this white fish, but it was cooked perfectly. There was no hint of fishy flavor. Its delicate texture and flavor paired well with the almond foam, that white, bubbly liquid on the plate. It was an incredibly flavorful and light froth of almond-y goodness. The green asparagus was steamed al dente and the white asparagus was shaved into thin strips. Both were very good. There was also a sauté (for lack of a better word) of shallots and almonds. I don’t know how well it went with the rest of the dish, but it was pretty darn tasty.

Course two: cheese.

Our server brought us a tray of 16 or so different cheeses of which we could choose up to 6 or so. She was a pro at cutting cheese (very much an art and not a joke at which your inner fifth grade boy is laughing). They were all good cheeses (from our somewhat inexperienced pallets). The beaufort, a hard cheese made from cow’s milk, was a hit. I really liked my two goat cheeses, one of which was a buchette cendrée, a log (buchette) of goat cheese aged in a cave with cinders (cendrée) that give it a grayish hue. The ladies liked the Roquefort, but I stayed away from that one.

Soon after the cheese course came the pre-dessert.

Upside-down île flottante.

First reaction: Any restaurant that serves a dessert before the real dessert is a great restaurant.

Second reaction: I like my desserts upside-down.

On top was a nice little meringue. Most meringues I’ve had have been too sugary. This one was not. Under the meringue was a layer of chilled crème anglaise with a pronounced and satisfying vanilla flavor. Then there was a layer of buttery caramel. At the bottom was a layer of fluffy meringue (almost a marshmallow fluff consistency). A bite of all three together made a combination of textures and flavors that would make any righside-up île flottantes blush.

And finally, the true dessert. We all got different desserts, and I got pictures of them all.

Laura got a chocolate sculpture.

Laure a strawberry shortcake.

Kinay got thyme-infused chocolate ganache. It was served under a glass dome from which a wisp of thyme wafted when it was removed at the table.

And I got green olive ice cream and lemon custard. The olive ice cream was a revelation. The brininess of olives doesn’t seem like it would go well in a creamed and frozen form. It does. And paired with the lemon custard, it was perfect. The saltiness of the olives and chilled ice cream played nicely with the sour lemon and creamy custard. Also, there was a sugar disk separating the ice cream and the custard. It was fun to crack and added a nice crunch to the party.

After the plates were cleared and check settled, we made our way out, snapping pictures of the restaurant and the unmatched view of Angers. I think the smiles on our faces might have offended some of the French people lingering over coffee.

Our lunch is just a memory now, albeit a well documented one because we all had our cameras to take pictures of the food. Thanks to my friends Kiany, Laura, and Laure for making it a great one.

Chez Moi

French Lesson: The word “chez” in French is a preposition literally meaning “at the house of.” Thus, the title of this blog translates to “At the House of Me” or rather “My house.”

Cultural Lesson: Should you ever see a French restaurant named “Chez Pierre” (or some other stereotypical French male name), avoid it. It is a tourist trap. It is bad.

And so, at long last, I present a tour of my house. The same house in which I’ve been living for the past four months. The same house in which I have only 9 sleeps left. Just don't touch anything.

Note: The inside pictures were taken when my host parents were babysitting a few of their grandchildren (a not uncommon occurrence). The house looks like a 1980’s Toys R’ Us exploded. So beware.

Welcome.

This house is more than 150 years old. It has been in Madame’s family for at least three generations, and it is something of an engineering marvel that it is still standing up. It seems most houses in France are that way.

I’m glad I took that picture back in March, because those ugly looking trees have since sprouted leaves. This is what were are dealing with now.


Shall we go in?

Up the stairs (I always go up the stairs on the left, always) and through the door is a foyer.

There is a tiny rug to wipe your feet, but they don't seem to mind a dirty or even muddy floor. Through the various doors are:

The kitchen (dirty from an evening party, the cleaning lady has a lot of work ahead of her today)

The kitchen is the same size as my bedroom: not big.

A sitting room (complete with a small collection of swords dating back to Napoleon)

The dining room (with a piano)

The TV room (note the small TV)

And the stairs.

All the stairs in France are spiral/curved. They are all tremendously dangerous if you are not paying attention.

We pass up the second floor (premier étage). That is where my host parents sleep and work and do laundry and other things. I haven’t been told not to explore, but I think it is understood that I don't belong there.

Up to the third floor. My domaine.

At last count, there are five rooms on the third floor. That's not to say there aren’t more. I just found a new one last week. Two of the rooms are full of toys (actually full). Two have beds for visiting children and/or grandchildren. The last is mine. All of them have sinks. The bathroom does not.

I have a pretty standard, bedroom set up: a twin bed, desk, swivel chair, and wooden bureau (c. 1780).

Out in the stairwell/hallway, I have my own little kitchen.

I can use the kitchen downstairs, but this is mighty convenient to store food and heat up a quick (read: cheap) meal.

Probably the best part of the house is the backyard (a.k.a. le jardin). Back in the winter and early spring, it looked overgrown and somewhat depressing. Now that the flowers have started blooming, it is quite the scenic place to read a book on a sunny day.

Roses are everywhere in France. They are giant, colorful, and smell like… roses.

Among the roses are something like 6 varieties of fruit trees/plants including: two types of cherries, apples, peaches, lemons, and some sort of nut.

We have a chicken, too.

They collect the eggs (which are giant). There is also a turtle, as creepy as it is giant, that was once a pet and now just roams around the yard. And there is a hunting dog, but I haven’t seen him in a couple of months.

So that is my humble homestead. From what I’ve seen, it is pretty average, if not above average, for an Angers bourgeois (upper middle class) family. It has grown on me over the past four months.

And my host family.

Can you tell who the American is? I can't.

Madame is a retired doctor who spends most of her time preparing for her children and grandchildren to come for weekends and/or extended stays. In fact, she is leaving next week to go help her very pregnant daughter take care of her two young children. Monsieur is a practicing doctor by day and a deacon at the local Catholic Church by weekend. By night, he sells drugs outside the soccer stadium (tell him I sent you).*

I don't know that I fully appreciated my house or host family the past four months. I sure hope they don't pave it and put up a parking lot...

*My host dad does not sell drugs outside the soccer stadium at night. That I know of.