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Decoding The French Menu: The Truth About Steak à Cheval

A Paris chalkboard menu – appearances can be deceiving! (Daxis)

Years into my love affair with Paris, I’m still making ridiculous rookie mistakes. I suppose it’s time to accept that France will always have the upper hand, but it still stings.

My most recent humiliation is horse-related. Or at least, I thought it was.

Please note that I was a horse-obsessed child, so equine-related topics are particularly touchy for me. As a child, I would sometimes dress in riding garb for no reason at all. And while I was waiting for my parents to break down and buy me a real horse (never happened), I would drag garbage cans into the backyard and ride them, periodically switching from one member of the “herd” to the next. On any given afternoon, people in the house could gaze out and see me whipping a particularly stubborn garbage can with my riding crop.

Steak à Cheval (L. Richarz)

So when I first moved to Paris and started noticing “steak à cheval” on menus around town, I was wary. I knew there was a historical precedent of eating horse meat in France, but it seemed quite inhumane in this day and age. Nonetheless,  I assumed it was some kind of trendy gastronomic revival, and who was I to question the local gourmands? So I kept my mouth shut and simply avoided the dreaded horse steak when confronted with it.

Recently, I was visiting my boyfriend’s family in Brazil. One night, we sat down to dinner and I was presented with a traditional dish called bife a cavalo (in Portuguese), which translates to “horse-riding steak” or “steak à la horse.”

“Horse?” I asked, panic rapidly setting in.

“No, it’s like steak à cheval in France,” G explained.

“Sooo….. horse?” I wondered again.

It was at this point that I realized I’d been operating under a serious misapprehension, and it took the collision of three cultures for the truth to surface. Continue Reading »

Posted in Food, Parisian Living | 11 Comments »

Decoding French-isms: Market / Restaurant Lingo

BP-MONT-Frenchism2-200210littlebrownpen.com/chicline.com

I used to think I was pretty good at French… until the day I actually moved here and realized just how nuanced the language is when it’s coming at you from all angles. Old people, young people, drunk people, foreign people—they all have their own distinct accents, cadences, and vocabularies. I quickly learned that my “A” in high school French Literature meant very little in the real world, and that making sense of real French would be a lifelong challenge. So far, it has been endlessly amusing…

While I like to think I’ve come a long way, even the most basic phrases were slightly confounding at first. I can understand how new visitors to Paris might feel a little shell-shocked, especially when they’re being barked at by a burly vendor at the Belleville market who is insisting that they “MANGEZ!” the tangerine slice he is brandishing (a regular occurrence in my life). Continue Reading »

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Posted in Parisian Living | 5 Comments »