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It
always amuses me to see recipe for things like French Chocolate Pancakes,
French Crullers or a “French” Watermelon Cooler. I guess adding the word
“French” makes things seem more appealing…unless they’re using French
chocolate or French watermelon, then they have the right to call it that,
and I’ll allow it. But I remember the look on his face when I was trying
to explain to my French (no quotation marks needed) other half, that
green beans cut on the diagonal are called “French-cut” in America –
even though I can’t say that I’ve ever seen green beans cut on the
diagonal in France. (Although I have seen things called “Américain,” that
don’t bear any resemblance to anything I’ve ever seen in America. So it
goes both ways.)
Yes,
I know that fried chicken isn’t typically considered French – busted!
Although you occasionally see poulet
pané (breaded and deep-fried) or poulet nuggets
in freezer cases or on the elementary school menus that they post outside
the schools in France. However when I was in Virginia and we were
discussing a local fried chicken joint, I saw a French woman’s eyes light
up at the mention of those crispy pieces of poulet, and we both looked at each
other with awe and amazement (and mutual admiration), and knew we had to
have it. And a few days later, we found ourselves sitting at a picnic
table, digging our teeth into crunchy pieces of fried chicken, with happy
grins – and lots of little tidbits of crust scattering every which way –
all around.
I
jokingly asked if each copy came with a clean-up person, to deal with the
aftermath. But when I read through the book, each and every picture
looked like something I wanted to make. And Rebecca even gave a great tip
for avoiding a mess when frying up chicken, that worked like a charm.
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