French Things

1. Gifting someone a bottle of wine is offensive

In the worst-case scenario, presenting the host of a French dinner party with a bottle
of wine is the equivalent of saying, ‘I know you’re too stupid and classless to serve
decent wine of your own accord so I thought I’d save your ass (and my taste buds) by
picking up some of my own.’ Even with a less sensitive host, or one who’s forgiving
of ignorant foreigners, your gift will most likely be put to the side for another time.
Instead, a wine that pairs nicely with the meal (and that was chosen without your
interference) will be served.

2. Marriage is celebrated with screeching car horns

Sit by a town hall anywhere in France on a Saturday afternoon and you’re liable to see
a procession of newlyweds, fresh from their mandatory civil ceremony with the
mayor. As they pull away in their wedding car together, flushed with pride and eager
to get on with their new life together, they are serenaded by the almighty racket of a
hundred honking car horns. The wedding party usually gets it going but the whole
town soon gets involved. It’s thought the tradition is rooted in charivari, a musical
form of social coercion by which unwed couples were humiliated into marriage.
3. Being on time is considered rude
If you grew up outside of France, you were probably raised to believe that punctuality
was paramount and, certainly if you’re British, that showing up 15 minutes early was
pretty much optimal. This kind of promptness just doesn’t fly in France, especially
not for a social occasion. That quarter of an hour buffer is considered crucial for
putting finishing touches to hair, make-up, the table decorations, and the dinner. So,
showing up ahead of time and expecting to be entertained will just make you seem
like a demanding ogre who shouldn’t have been invited into polite company in the
first place.
4. Eating the tip of a baguette on the way home from the
bakery is semi-mandatory
This point brings us to one of the great contradictions of French life: food must never,
unless you intend on being considered a dreadful plebian, be eaten on the street
EXCEPT if that which you eat is the broken off end of a baguette. (It should be noted
that the food truck boom is currently blowing apart centuries of French culture.)
Whether it’s the sweet, wafting smell or the pleasing warmth when the bread’s fresh
out the oven that makes it the exception to the rule, you must stop yourself at the rim
of the long paper bag or else face ostracism.

5. There is no such thing as a children’s menu

Unlike in English-speaking countries where children have traditionally been reared on
a diet of chicken nuggets, French fries (oh, the irony), ketchup, and the occasional
stump of broccoli, the kids in France pretty much go from the boob to the bistro.
Whether it’s cow tongue or pigs’ feet, there’s nothing French parents would eat that
they wouldn’t feed to their kids. This early exposure to a wide variety of flavors is
perhaps why France produces more Michelin-quality chefs than anywhere else. If the
video below is anything to go by, American children don’t seem overly impressed by
the local gastronomy.

6. Being slapped in the face with a herring is a good thing

Throughout the year, towns and cities across France hold carnivals, each a spectacular
show of color, music, and civic pride, distinguishable by their bizarre array of local
traditions. In Dunkirk, whose festival dates to the early 17th century, the party lasts
two-and-a-half months between January and March, signifying the time once spent at
sea by the town’s fishermen. One of the key moments takes place at the town hall and
attracts thousands, if not tens of thousands, of people. Just as the crowd’s chanting
reaches its crescendo, 450 kilos of wrapped, smoked herring is chucked onto their
heads.

7. Beaujolais Nouveau is the only wine that deserves a

holiday
It’s no secret that the French love and are deeply proud of their wine but Beaujolais
nouveau is treated to fanfare like no other. Its designated holiday, marked every year
on the third Thursday in November when its production ends and selling begins, is
kind of like a French version of Thanksgiving. There’s often a mad rush in
supermarkets to ensure a healthy supply at home and friends meet in bars to raise a
glass and toast a new season. In the wine-growing town of Beaujeu, the first barrels,
strapped with flaming vine shoots, are rolled through the streets before being drilled
into and quickly consumed.