A Memory of French Life

After one of our long stays in Paris, I wrote down many of my memories of what we had experienced. The following is my memory of a French institution: the Sunday Lunch. We were invited to accompany French friends to their relatives' homes or to homes of other friends, as well as being invited to their house or apartments for this traditional meal. Our two stays took place around 30 and 45 years ago, and I don't know if things have changed. I thought it would be good to share it with this year's blog event Paris in July. 

Sunday Lunch 

Dining room in our friend Michelle's counry
house near Cotignac, France, 1994.

Imagine that you are visiting in France, and that a French family has invited you for Sunday lunch. This is still a family institution in France. You will probably come at around 1:00, as invited, perhaps with a friend whose family this is. You will find that there are already several women in the kitchen (if it's not too tiny) peering into covered dishes or pots on the stove, discussing the finishing touches on a lamb roast or a sauce, or making the dressing for the lettuce salad that often appears between the main course and the cheese course. Men and guests who aren’t in the inner family circle — such as you — will be talking to each other and possibly drinking an aperitif such as Pastis and water, port wine, or Scotch. You will be introduced to everyone, shake hands, and probably chat for a few minutes until you find out who you have the most in common with, or who is really interested in asking you something about the US and your impressions of France.

The grandmother will be there. She may be so old that her oldest daughter, sitting with her, looks just as old as she does. Or she may be a very young grandmother whose grandchild is a gurgling baby. Friends or relations of various generations will be invited, depending on the occasion, and will be arriving at various times. There will certainly be some teenagers or college-age children or grandchildren around, talking to each other, not talking much to the adults — but somehow always politely to their grandmother. One teenager will certainly have to dash to another event or join some friends somewhere shortly after lunch. Another will go off to do homework.

Lunch at a French country house in 1989.
Our host Jean is at left, next to Len.

The favorite place to have Sunday lunch is at a country house. It may be close or far away from the owners’ normal home. It may be shared by several siblings, or owned by a grandmother and effectively shared by her descendants, especially if it was originally the home of some of the older generation. The furniture will be somewhat old-fashioned, and if the house is really old and hasn’t been improved, the rooms may seem quite dark, and the plumbing may be rather primitive. The kitchen will always clearly be the emotional center of the house -- and usually much larger than the kitchens people have in the city.

Monet’s house at Giverny embodies the French dream of what a country house should look like. His kitchen and dining room must have been the scene of many country lunches on quiet Sunday afternoons. There were certainly meals outdoors — you can see them in paintings at the Musee d’Orsay. I suspect that the French families who line up at Giverny on Sunday afternoon, presumably after such a lunch, are fantasizing about how their family would use this beautiful and tasteful house, as well as looking over the garden where Monet painted the famous water lilies.

In the country, a few families cook on an open fire — for example, several kinds of steaks and chops or skewers with cubes of meat, a few onions, and smoked sausages. A student-aged members of the younger generation may be the one to build the fire, as barbecue is not the patriarchal institution in France that it is in the US. Sometimes various members of the family will bring an appetizer, potato or rice salad, or a dessert to supplement the hostess’s food. More distant guests, such as you, may have brought a bottle of wine.

Monet: The Luncheon (1873)

Even outdoors, there are often china plates with silver or stainless utensils and often cloth napkins, even for a large number of guests. If lunch is in the city or in case of rain or bad weather, there is usually a big dining room or space in the kitchen to serve the entire crowd. Outdoors, folding tables will be set up and covered with tablecloths. Picture everyone seated around the huge table in the beautifully decorated dining room at Giverny, with its yellow-painted chairs, yellow walls covered with Japanese prints, and yellow-rimmed plates and Chinese blue and white porcelain. Sunday lunches, both indoors and outdoors, are also often depicted in French films, so you may want to visualize your favorite actors and actresses around you delicately tasting the dishes and sipping their wine.

Our friend Michelle served this dessert at a Sunday lunch
at her apartment in Paris a few years ago.

When the call “à table” is finally heard, the women will bring out the food, and the host will open a bottle of wine or two, depending on the number of guests. Picture the first course, probably some delicious home-made terrine or special smoked meat or pate; in winter you may have soup, and in summer you may see some perfectly ripe, sliced tomatoes. Someone will cut up the long loaves of bread to be eaten with every course, and men are expected to fill empty wine glasses when they see them. Leg of lamb is very popular for the main dish on Sunday, often served with green beans or potatoes, but there may be a roast beef or the meat that was cooked on the open fire, and another vegetable dish such as ratatouille. Green salad follows, then a platter of cheeses from which you can sample any number. Home-made chocolate mousse or tartes, or a fruit salad, or a selection of such wonders are probably served for dessert. Coffee is served last, separately, with sugar lumps. In some families, the division of the meal into formal courses is somewhat relaxed on Sundays, especially if there are other activities or if a sporting event will soon be starting and the TV is beckoning some of the diners.

During the meal, you will probably discuss the food, the wine, the preparation of food, and other meals comparable to this one eaten in other places. Other topics of conversation vary of course depending on the interests of the guests. The teen-agers and students may tell about what they are doing. 

Very young children learn politeness and table manners at such meals; they are often expected to sit patiently throughout a great deal of the meal and to try each course. Children in France seem to lack the resistance to vegetables and to mixed dishes that American children get by with. However, for impatient or uncooperative children there may be an indulgent aunt or grandmother who will let them go directly to the dessert or will let them go away and play. 

At the end of the meal, there are a lot of plates, wine glasses, and utensils to be washed, dried, and put away. Electric dishwashers are now quite common in French country houses, probably because there are so many meals of this sort; otherwise several of the women and possibly men will go off to the kitchen to take care of the clean-up. Monet’s kitchen had a huge sink where I imagine the servants washed up, but I have never seen any sort of servant in a modern French home.

Blog post © 1991, 2021 mae sander.