Friday, 28 November 2008
My friends in the States are a bright bunch, but I was surprised to discover how few of them had considered the difficulty of Thanksgiving overseas. Though most realize that Thanksgiving is uniquely American, what with the history of pilgrims, etc., I find that there's a surprising lack of understanding regarding the food -- that is, nearly everything Americans eat for Thanksgiving feasts is indigenous to North America and not sold elsewhere in the world with any regularity. About the only thing Thanksgiving meals lack in terms of indigenous goodies is peanut butter and barbecue sauce.
And so began the quest for ingredients. There are a handful of "American grocery stores" in Paris, which usually manifest themselves as tiny boutiques that sell Orville Redenbacher microwave popcorn, jars of peanut butter, bottles of Tobasco sauce, Jell-O, and a few other random items. There's a shop like this on the way to my art history class on Avenue Bosquet. Also in the city is "The Thanksgiving Store," which, if I understand correctly, is a year-round market that sells American decorations and various holiday goods, as well as food. The map on their website cracks me up.
So which items are difficult to track down, and how much do they cost? Good question. Here are a few.
While at Monoprix shopping for ingredients, I could tell who was American just by how intensely they were searching for things in specific aisles. I overheard some English and approached a young couple. "Excuse me. Are you shopping for Thanksgiving ingredients?" I asked. They seemed somewhat relieved and delighted to find someone on the same quest. I asked if they had found sweet potatoes anywhere in the city, which they hadn't. Holding a crumpled list in one hand, one of them asked, "Have you found pumpkin? Brown sugar? Cranberry sauce?" I gave them the address of the shop on Bosquet, and wished them luck. "Happy Thanksgiving!" they said as I walked toward the check-out.
I think I can safely say this Thanksgiving is the only time I will carry a casserole through the metro and down the streets of the Latin Quarter. Happy Belated Thanksgiving to all, or as the French like to call it, jeudi.
