Hello it is Benoit . I never to write on the blog but it'is a good exercice for my english :) tuesday Laura is back in Nantes. I went to pick up Laura in the train station with some flowers (Germini ).
Laura and I had the idea to put some movies in the blog to show you how Laura lives in Nantes.
It is a good idea?
Love ,
Benoît

1 down, 9 to go; however I am not here to recount my final exams. There are other things much more exciting to address

Notion #1 Our turtles are officially sexually frustrated...

Every Friday afternoon and Monday morning, George and Caroline (those are the names of our two turtles--I named George and Benoit named Caroline) make the trip from Nantes to Pornic and back again in the back seat of Benoit's car (sometimes if they are good, he lets them ride up front).  The roundtrips must be taking a toll on them because we find that they are "much" more active nowadays than before.  Mom, you may have grandbabies sooner than you think!  However, they won't look anything like Benoit and I.

Each turtle wears his or her name well according to his or her character.  George is a lot like Grandpap George.  He keeps to himself most of the time, but always pulls out a joke.  Caroline, to my understanding, is a lot like the crazy turtle in the animated French cartoon Benoit watched as a kid.  

Notion #2 Benoit came to Angers this weekend!

He surprised me for lunch on Friday by arriving a little bit earlier than planned.  During my normal two hour lunch break (I still can't get over how much the French value their lunchtime) we bought chicken sandwiches on fresh baguettes with mayo, tomatoes, and egg and each of us chose the dessert that we preferred: chocolate tarte for me and a lemon tarte for Benoit (a lot like another couple I know--Hi Mom and Dad--ok enough with the mushy love references haha).

During my afternoon class, Benoit occupied himself at the tool store.  Yes, this would be considered a usual habit of any common man; however, he was buying stone mason tools dating back to the middle ages.  Hmmm, again sometimes I wonder if I am living a dream or not.

After class, we went shoe shopping together and because Benoit bought a new pair of boots, the cashier gave me 50% off my pair of boots.  Now that's a steal!  

We were invited to dinner Friday at my friend Randa's (she is a Lebanese woman of 36 but with a lively, adorable character) and her husband Christophe's (he is French--Yes, Randa also converted) house. Since we had some time to spend before aperitif/dinner at 8pm, we decided to walk around the Christmas market.  Then while deciding that it would be a nice gesture to bring a bouquet of flowers for  "la maitresse de la maison" (the woman of the house) we made our way to the nearest florist shop only to find ourselves in the middle of a reception of Very Important People.  As we entered the shop, the woman asks us if we had an invitation.  "Um, no.  We are just here to buy some flowers." (which would be a normal response I would presume).  "Oh yes that's fine.  It's just that we are holding a reception for the mayor and his associates tonight.  But my colleague here will help you arrange your bouquet," the woman  informed us.  

As we walk in, we observe all of the "fine people" dressed to their best, drinking flutes of champagne and tasting beautiful desserts too delicious to eat.  And there are Benoit and I, dressed in jeans, noses red from the cold (and maybe a little too much hot wine at the Christmas market), holding our big bags of shoeboxes.  We decided on a full bouquet of 8 colorful Gerber daisies.  "Why don't you two serve yourselves a glass of champagne or two while I arrange your bouquet.  Don't be afraid to try the desserts made fresh from the bakery next door." 

Umm..OKAY! So while Benoit and I were "champagning it up" with the mayor of Angers, we decided that maybe it was time to head over to Randa's house (we are ALWAYS late for EVERYTHING--our friends now have the tendency to tell us to be somewhere a half an hour earlier than everyone else just so that we might have a CHANCE of actually being "on time").  And we left the mayor and his associates to carry on the delightful reception without us.

Dinner was lovely.  Randa and Christophe are absolutely wonderful people and I felt a little bit like Julia Child that evening, elegantly wining and dining in France with fine individuals (haha); even though it was not I hosting dinner.

Saturday was Chateau Day!  Benoit and I finally got to visit the Castle of Angers, which holds the largest tapestry in the world, dating back the age of the apocalypse.  Very, very impressive.  However, as you may expect, if you follow an audio tour which explains the entire tapestry, you better organize a good 2 1/2 hours out of your day.  After all, it is the largest in the world.

Weekend à Anger entre amoureux (Week in Angers between two people in love):

And here we are Sunday night, after a long and enjoyable weekend, at our humble home in Nantes eating the French smoked sausage and cheese we bought at the market, drinking red wine from the region of Chinon, and playing a game of chess.

Christmas Market in Nantes

A French man, wearing a barret, smoking a cigarette, and cooking chestnuts over an open fire.  Yes, this is a real.

Benoît won.

What are sweet potatoes?

I had the privilege of celebrating Thanksgiving twice this year.  Once with Benoit and four of our friends and a second time with Benoit's family.  Both celebrations left me with wonderful memories that I will never forget of my second Thanksgiving spent away from home.

I arrived at Benoit's parents' house early Saturday morning around 9:30am in order to help his mother prepare the Thanksgiving lunch.  Much to my surprise, I was astonished by the fact that Madame Roblin told me to come over around 9:30ish or whenever I was ready.  We would be preparing a lunch for 9 and were scheduled to eat around 1pm or thirteen hundred hours.  Maybe it's just the "French way," but I know that in my house, Thanksgiving preparations start well before 7am; so needless to say, I was praying with all my might that things would run smoothly and we would have everything in the oven on time.  For indeed I was feeling the pressure of being "grande chef" for the first time in my life while in France, home of some of the best cuisine.

Benoit wanted to sleep in and test out the new version of the video game, Call of Duty, that he recently bought.  I agreed and nodded my head unwilling for I always feel a bit uneasy arriving at The Roblin's "sans Benoit" (to use your phrase, Dad).  I was greeted at the door by Benoit's little sister Nélogwuen and she directed me into the kitchen where I saw Madame and Monsieur Roblin formally dressed in their aprons.

We started with the pumpkin pie.  Everyone was amazed by the number of "strange" spices were mixed in with the pumpkin.  Again, we had to make the pie from scratch, yes with a REAL pumpkin, because canned goods are rather limited here in France.  We ended up making enough filling for two pies and it was a good thing because everyone thought it was "DELICIEUSE!"

celery root/bulb

celery branches

Moving on to the subject of celery.  Whenever the French think of celery, they automatically think of the celery bulb itself and not the branches.  Luckily, Benoit had already explained to his mother beforehand that it was the branches that we need in order to make the stuffing and not the root itself.



Benoit's father was in charge of cutting up all of the vegetables for the stuffing and he himself was amazed by celery branches.  What surprised him even more were the sweet potatoes.  "They are so big and ORANGE!" he exclaimed while slicing and preparing them for the mashed sweet potato dish.  "Yes, I too am amazed by the color!" Madame Roblin commented.  "I was so lost in the supermarket the other day when I went to buy them.  I had no idea what a sweet potato even looked like!  I had to ask one of the workers to help me find it and when we did, I noticed the great big sign that said, "Comes from U.S.A.  I then knew I was buying the right thing."

Everything went rather smoothly except for the fact that we had to call Benoit and ask him to bring over his oven--yes, he had to detach his oven from the wall, put it in his car, and carry it to his parents' house--so that we could bake the pumpkin pies and the turkey at the same time in order to have them all ready for 1pm.  This is when I discovered that French ovens are not exactly fully equipped to cook a Thanksgiving turkey "american style."

Benoit's grandparents were invited to celebrate with us as well, and they were both very excited to have the opportunity to be a part of such a famous American holiday.  His grandmother admitted to me that she has been waiting weeks to taste the famous turkey and told all of her friends about such an occasion.

Although Americans usually do not host an "aperitif" before a meal, Benoit's father insisted on having one, accompanied by foie gras (duck liver made into a mousse and the luxury of all big occasions in France) with a sweet white wine.

Dad's coleslaw, Pittsburgh Perfect Stuffing, a 3.3 kg turkey (about 6.5 pounds), mashed sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce (made with REAL cranberries and orange liqueur thanks to a French recipe I found to make American cranberry sauce with a French twist; which, I must admit, was absolutely amazing) a cheese course (also at the request of Benoit's father), and pumpkin pie with whipped cream.  Everyone RAVED about how delicious it was.  And no matter where one celebrates Thanksgiving, the after-meal nap is universal and very much essential; however, not exactly on the living room floor lol.

Dirty Dancing, Wonderful Men, and a Happy Thanksgiving

Bonjour tout le monde ! (Hello everyone!)

So I find that every since my return in France, life consists of late nights, early morning, and long days of WORK WORK WORK.  I have come to the conclusion that no matter how much passion you have for a particular subject, the work and the stress still manage to find you somehow, someway.  Perhaps it's just a quality of school in general.

In other news, I'm convinced that it's official.  Sophie, my strange and special landlord, has committed to having an actual boyfriend.   Now longer does she "entertain" in her room approximately three nights a week, but now entertains her "man-friend"  EVERY NIGHT.  The events are as follows:  André arrives at the apartment at 7:15 sharp, let's himself in with his OWN pair of keys, Sophie makes them both dinner, SILENCE, he leaves at 6:30am in the morning and loudly closes the door, I get up around 7:30am only to find a bottle of wine in the garbage can and his name bowl marked "André" dirtied in the sink.  (A thing about Name Bowls in the region of Brittany.  It is tradition that every member of the family have a small white and blue bowl with their name written on the outside.  These bowls are usually set out the night before so that when everyone eats breakfast in the early morning, everyone is sure to have their own bowl in which they can drink their tea, coffee, or cereal.)  André now has his own bowl.  This is huge.

Last Thursday night, Benoit Jego (the other Benoit) and I decided to spend the evening in Pornic with Benoit.  We had at first planned on going to the casino; however instead, we cooked turkey filets in a mushroom cream sauce accompanied by a bottle of strong red bordeaux wine, chocolate mousse, and the movie Dirty Dancing.  French men, I am convinced, are much more open to the fact that sometimes, chick flicks CAN be great movies to watch for both sexes!  I was quite amused while listening to their analysis of Patrick Swazy and 80's dress.

Benoit (my Benoit) continues to surprise me everyday by the manner in which he treats me.  With all of the stress of school, final exams, speaking French, and other things (yes, Mom I have to admit that I think about you everyday but that doesn't prohibit me from working hard in my school work, so don't worry!) I have the tendency, more often than not, to close myself off and be rather moody.  Okay, VERY moody.  And what is Benoit's reaction?  First he takes me strong in his arms, hugs me, makes up excuses to why I am acting this way (usually that I am under so much stress right now that my behavior is completely normal), asks if he can help in any way possible, and then comforts me in saying that everything is going to be ok.  Ummm....do we all have to cross the ocean to find a love like this? :)

Last Saturday evening, we celebrated the infamous American holiday of Thanksgiving!  Benoit and I spent all afternoon cooking and cleaning and exactly at 8:30pm sharp, our four other guests arrived.  We had champagne and Budweiser beer (a sort of oxymoron I know--but we wanted it to be Thanksgiving a little bit "à la français") with a veggie tray, homemade dipping sauce, pistachios, and pretzels for the aperatif and then around 9:30pm we sat down to dinner.  We served a savory pumpkin  mousse in a light cream sauce as an appetizer, a stuffed chicken (turkey season in France isn't until Decembre and ironically, their Christmas meat is a whole turkey) with Namestka stuffing and mashed sweet potatoes, and finally my Mom's famous apple and pecan pie for dessert!  Everyone said that it was absolutely delicious, however, they had never had such a big/consistant meal in their lives!

Here are some pictures of our Thanksgiving in France:

We had to keep the Namestka tradition alive.

Left to Right: Benoit, Anne-Laure, Romain, Priscille, Benoit, and me 

This time, we all did our best impression of a "stuffed turkey"

American cuisine, French wine, German hard alcohol, and great times were had by all!  Everyone cannot wait for next year! :)

Luckily, Benoit and I don't have to wait until next year to celebrate.  This Saturday, we are having Thanksgiving lunch at Benoit's parents house.  I swear the French are just FASCINATED by the fact and how we celebrate such a tradition.  I am going over to Benoit's parents house early in the morning Saturday to help his mom cook, this time, à l'américaine!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!  I LOVE AND MISS YOU ALL.  HAVE SOME TURKEY, 7-LAYER SALAD, CARAMELIZED SWEET POTATOES, COLESLAW, MASHED POTATOES, PUMPKIN PIE, NUT ROLL, STUFFED CABBAGE, and DEVILED EGGS for me! :)

Sometimes (more often than not) I wish the Atlantic Ocean was a little bit smaller...

"So what did you do over fall break?" was the question of the day.  How do you explain using a simple sentence that you went back home to the United States (a country that 80% of French people will never see in their lifetime) and to do the best you could to take care of your sick mommy while suffering from incredible jet lag?  You explain it to some; however, to other you just nod, smiling, and simply say, "Je n'ai pas fais grandes choses." (Oh you know, I didn't really do much).

Benoit had told me Friday night that almost all of the candle space in front of the statue of Mary in Saint Donation's Church was completely filled.  I am not surprised.  Most of my friends and their families attended this church and are also aware that my little mommy is not exactly up to par.  So just so you know again, Mom, there are many candles and prays dedicated to you here in France.

I pose another question, one a bit more lighter than the first.  "Why do French people sometimes seem to feel so entitled?"  It's not such a bad trait to have, even though it often has a negative connotation.  For example, on the plane ride back to France, there was a French man who asked for 3 complimentary beverages with his dinner, an extra dessert, two apple streudels in the morning, and succeeded at stuffing one blanket in his bag with another one around his neck, acting as a scarf!  Now, to me at first I was a bit offended; however, if you think about it, you are paying over $1,000 for the flight so why not milk it for all you can?  I don't know.  I am still up in the air about the concept of having the right to "free things" on an airplane.

Bonjour Maman! I am going back to France because both you and I know that is where I belong; however, I could have used a couple more days (or better yet weeks) with you!  I miss you and love you!

Good news.  I have my first ever business lunch with my future boss on Friday, November 18th.  And it was HIM that asked me to have lunch!  Any thoughts on what I should wear??

Bad news.  First day back in Angers and I was greeted by smelly, barking dogs, my landlord in her lovely pajamas, and NO electricity (i.e. no heat, no internet, no light, no nothing).  Luckily, by the time I came back from class around 7pm, everything was back to normal, including the smelly, barking dogs. 

Hello, smelly,  annoying, oh my goodness sometimes I wish I had a very large heavy object, YOU!  I missed you!

Last night, it was "almost" like Christmas at the Namestka's

So one big plus about being a student is the enormous flexibilty of hours.  For example, by the time it struck 10am yesterday (Thursday) morning, I was ready to start my weekend.

I arrived back in Nantes around 4pm with an extra spring in my step.  As of yesterday, I am officially excepted as an intern for a translation company starting April 1st 2012.  Where?  Nantes, France.  The company is called "Cabinet Martinez" and it is about a 15 minute bus ride from where Benoit lives.  The pressure of passing an interview in a professional translation company for an internship that I need to have in order to get my diploma IN FRENCH has finally passed and I am relieved to know that I will finally be returning and staying in Nantes (at least until September and until my visa is up--but we will cross that bridge when it gets here).  

I was all ready to celebrate with Benoit and cook a big, fabulous dinner with him; however, as time and weather would have it, Benoit is sick with a soar throat, a cold, and the chills.  He humored me and we bought all the stuff we needed to try out a new recipe, "Saucisses en ragoût."  Little did I know, this is the French version of good ol' polish kolbasa.  The French call it "saucisses fumés" (literally translated as smoked sausage), but has almost exactly the same texture, juiciness, and taste as polish kolbasa.  The recipe was very simple and I HIGHLY recommend it.  The great thing about it is, since kolbsa is a heavy meat in general, it is accomanied either with carrots or chestnuts!  Here is France, it is not quite yet the season for chestnuts (november to january), so we opted for carrots.

Saucisses en ragoût


Ingredients for 4 people:

1 1/2 lbs. carrots
3 onions
4 nice size pieces of kolbasa
3 tbsp. olive oil
1 tbsp. balsamic vinegar

1. Peel, wash, and cut carrots into thick strips and cook in a pot with boiling water for 20 minutes.  Strain.  Peel and chop onions.

2.  In another pot, bring water to a boil.  Boil kolbasa for 5 minutes.

3.  In a frying pan, lightly brown the chopped onions with the olive oil.

4.  Add carrots and kolbasa to the pan of onions and cook 5 minutes (You can puncture the kolbasa with a fork in order to let some of the grease out and to avoid  kolbasa explosion lol)

5.  Place the kolbasa on a bed of onions and carrots on each plate (aethetically pleasing to the eye lol).  KEEP THE SAUCE IN THE PAN

6.  In a small bowl, mix the leftover sauce from the pan with the balsamic vinegar.  Dress the sauce over the kolbasa, onions, and carrots.  Serve hot.

Bon Appétit !! :)

I spy with my NEW FULLY EQUIPPED ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE OF A BIRTHDAY PRESENT OF A CANON CAMERA

Yes everyone, it's the return of the wonderful technology we all know called the "camera."  For my 23rd birthday, my loving parents bought me a brand new camera in order to replace the one that I dropped on 15th century year old cobblestone and did not live to tell the tale.

So a "petite" apology before I start for the fact that it's been at least 2 weeks since I've blogged.  I am not by any means complaining or making excuses that I am "just too busy" to post a new blog, but I have to admit, being a grad student, a girl, a girlfriend, and an AMERICAN in France is a full time job.

Let me start with some pictures.  Below you will find various pictures of my "temporary home" in Angers.  WARNING: What you see below may cause effortless laughter and astonishment.

So this is my room in Angers.  Kinda cool, right?  Different and rather appealing at a first glance.

Now we get into the details...I am convinced that his head was torn off by the two yappy Yorkshire dogs that also live with me...who give off a wonderful odor that resembles that of  Petsmart.

Obviously extremely practical object.  I don't know what I did these last 23 years without a large wooden strawberry, an Indian glass elephant, and a broken carousel.

My friends.

And even larger class elephant.

Either the person who rented this room before me accidentally left his exercising material or Mme Sophie is implying something.

Hello doggy bedspread and Barbie pink pillows!!

Maybe she thought it was funny to put this in my room because I am American?  I'm not sure...

In case I want to brush up on my 4th century math calculations in my spare time.

So this is my living space for the time being.  It has its advantages (i.e. being in the center of town and only a 10 minute walk from my university) and its disadvantages (i.e. the smell of dog, the fact that Mme Sophie repaints the entry way practically every week, the sounds of yapping yorkshires, the fact that we MUST open the window before we leave in the morning in order to "air-out" the room--even when its 40 degrees outside) as any living situation.  As a whole, I'm content where I am.

The day I received my camera in the mail, I made it my mission to walk around town in order to take some pictures and "show" you a little bit of Angers! :)

Charming, n'est pas? However, not as charming as this guy,

Yes, that is a huge block of cheese.  This past Sunday we hate a wonderful little restaurant called Chez les Gaulois.  It specializes in charcuterie (fine delicate pieces of ham--for example procuitto) and raclette (a large plate of this charcuterie covered in melted "raclette" cheese.)

Bon appétit !! :)

A few reflections from a 23 year old...

It is hard to believe that it was exactly two years ago that I reached the milestone of 21 and had the interesting experience of celebrating such a "high-lived" occasion in France.  I must admit that I have grown and learned so much as an individual, as a developing woman rather, over the past two years that the 21 year old girl who decided to live abroad for a year, more or less for the right or wrong reasons, seems like a stranger to me.  The night of my 21st birthday, I found myself in a strange home, having dinner with a family that I could barely comprehend language and culture-wise, going out to the bar with a mix between American and French acquaintances, taking shots of tequila, kissing a random French boy who ended up breaking my heart (but at the same time lead me to who is now the love of my life), and waking up to a collection of random French CDs, a coat that didn't belong to me, and text messages leading to fact that I was in a relationship with the boy I kissed that night.  I am not saying that I didn't have a great time (from what I seem to remember); however in comparison to the second (and surely not the last) that I spend in France this past weekend, "il y rien à voir" (it doesn't even compare).

For my 23rd birthday, Benoit offered me the biggest dictionary I have ever seen.  It consists of ever single word in the history of the French language, including the word's origin and evolution.  It weighs approximating 25 pounds.

I told Benoit that now I am in love with two men, Benoit and "Robert" (which is the name of this brand of dictionary ironically).  But yes, it is also true that there are two men in my life that I love and hold most dearly, Benoit and Robert (Hi Daddy!).  :)  Miss you.

Luckily, I didn't have class this past Friday, so I was able to return to Nantes Thursday evening.  My friend Pauline invited me to have dinner with her family Thursday night and they too offered me a book for my birthday; however, more practical, in that it is a recipe book of how to host a dinner between friends!  What luck, because that is exactly how I celebrated my birthday Saturday night!  

Ironically as well, Benoit had the day off too on Friday.   Friday morning we slept in, walked around Nantes for a bit, enjoying the much needed and rare sunshine of the early fall afternoon whiling ate smoked salmon sandwiches and fresh caramel candies.  Shortly after, Benoit decided to take me a short day trip to Guerande, a small fortified medieval town dating back to the 15th century.  Today, Geurande is known for their fresh sea salt, still harvested by hand by French salt farmers. 

Friday night, Benoit took me out to a restaurant (big deal in France) on the port of Pornic.  I started with a warm goat cheese and walnut salad and Benoit opted for the oyster and shrimp platter.  As a main dish, I had grilled ray in a warm cream and butter sauce with white rice, and Benoit had a rare piece of a beef with fries.  As a dessert, of course I chose the chocolate mousse and Benoit had the trio of sorbet.  

Saturday at Benoit's grandparent's house in Pornic, we hosted a themed birthday party.  What was the theme you may be wondering?  I chose the theme, "What makes you think of America?"  Response?  Witness pictures below:

For Benoit, it was Steeler pride and Jägar...I won't tell you how he was feeling the next day...

For others, it was GIs and Uncle Sam...

And for the rest, baseball players, cowgirls, Brittany Spears, and Mickey Mouse.

My dinner was a great success, with the huge help of Benoit of course.  The dinner was as follows:

Aperitif: hot dogs bites with Heinz ketchup and mustard (Yes! You can find Heinz ketchup in France and it is considered one of the best brands), Pringles, peanuts, Ritz crackers and Philadelphia cream cheese (which also exists here!), and chips and salsa.

                -Things that don't exist: Marzetti coleslaw sauce, okra, and pumpkin in a can (which made  

                 the rest of my menu a bit of a challenge)

Entrée: Dad's coleslaw--Marzetti substitute?  Dijon mustard, mayo, and lemon juice.

Main dish:  Mom's jumbalaya--There is no substitute for okra so I just left it out.

(Sorry, no cheese course.  And even though that has become a tradition in the Namestka household, it still remains a "French thing")

Dessert: Pumpkin pie--Pumpkin in a can substitute?  A REAL pumpkin!

Everyone raved about the coleslaw and the jumbalaya; however, the pumpkin pie was less than a hit than I thought it would be.  The pie itself turned out wonderful; however, it was more the texture that didn't pass well by the French.

Haha by that point, the Jäger had already got to him...the next morning, Benoit blamed the polish.

The next day, we spent the whole day at the beach!  It was actually hot that day!  :)

Thank you everyone back home for all of the wonderful birthday wishes.  You too made my birthday a day that I will always remember.  I feel so loved and appreciated.  Thank you and I love you so much!  

Thinking of you always.

Laura