Emily in France 🇫🇷 I'm On a Boat!

On cultivating souplesse

I have not historically been known as a particularly flexible person.

(I’ll give my siblings a bit of time to control their laughter before I continue.)

It’s not that I don't appreciate flexibility or understand the merits of it. It's just that since I was very small, I’ve had a hard time grasping grey areas. Mind-changing. Flip-flopping. Basically so very much of what makes humans… uh… human. And while this rigidity, for lack of a better word, has made me a very effective worker bee, it’s also had its downsides, including being very hard not only on other people but on myself.

But I’m nothing if not self-aware. Of late, I’ve been trying to cultivate a bit more flexibility, or what the French would call souplesse: softness. And while I don't think anyone would term me as particularly soft (and frankly, I'm not sure that will ever change), I like to think that I’ve gotten a bit more forgiving: Of fermetures exceptionnelles, of late arrivals, and, yes, of changing plans.

That said, changes are still pretty uncomfortable for me, and in what seems to be a serious case of the universe throwing me straight into the deep end of the pool, this week, I’ve lost track of the number of last-minute changes – and even emergencies – have cropped up. (And yeah, it’s only Tuesday.)

For someone as rigid as I am, nothing could be more uncomfortable. To lazily continue with that pool metaphor, I felt like I was drowning. And my knee-jerk reaction, as it often is, was to say “No.” No to to moving an appointment, no to taking a last-minute job, no to spontaneous plans, and no, even, to helping out a friend.

Friends, that was not a proud moment.

Luckily, I was able to find the mental distance to humble myself, take a step back, and reassess the urgency, importance, and significance of these changes. And it led, among other things, to me spending yesterday in Normandy on a lobster boat.

My presence on said boat was the result of a chance meeting with a third-generation lobster fisherman at Ed Delling-Williams’ Le Presbytère. But it was also the result of a lot of waiting and a lot of flexibility. Fishing, after all, is a relatively weather-dependent venture, and my being several hours away from the coat by train-bus-another-bus-and-car meant that planning this trip required a lot of flexibility – and thus a lot of anxiety. Every time I accepted a commitment, I worried I was casting away (sorry) my chance at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Every time I sidelined another opportunity in favor of the hope that the fishing expedition would come to fruition and was left fishless, I had to resist the urge to grow bitter.

But last week, the stars aligned: I heard from Cédric, who let me know that this week would be ideal for our outing. I miraculously found a train ticket, in spite of nationwide strikes today and the Cherbourg train station being closed (yes, closed) this past Sunday. I even found a lovely room in a beautiful village of Gréville-Hague, birthplace of Jean-François Millet.

But that’s not all.

The stars aligned, too, because the people I had heretofore made plans with were understanding in my need to reschedule. These people afforded me grace… something I’m embarrassed to admit I've been avaricious with in the past. But because these people, rather than be annoyed by my need to reschedule instead were excited on my behalf, I was able to say yes, take the plunge (OK, OK, last one) and venture out on the sea for this incredible adventure. (Which, fear not, you’ll be hearing about in much greater detail in a forthcoming story for the BBC).

Thanks to this grace, I was able to break my morning fast with a handful of sweet lobster roe. Thanks to this grace, I will be able to share this fisherman’s story.

Thanks to this grace, I got home last night windswept, reeking of fish, and oh-so happy.

It was humbling… and it was unforgettable in more ways than one.

Cheese(s) of the Week

On Friday morning, I seized yet another opportunity when I saw on Instagram that one of my favorite cheesemongers, Fromagerie Quatrehomme, was offering two limited-edition cheeses last weekend only. I promptly grabbed my umbrella and headed out into the sunshowers to snag them both.

The Excelsior “Kintsugi” Miso, began with a base of rich, buttery Brillat-Savarin, a bloomy-rinded cheese that was rebranded from its former name, Excelsior, by master cheesemonger Henri Androuët in the ‘30s. Cheesemonger-in-training Romain reimagined the creamy cheese in layer cake form, sandwiching it around thin layers of slightly sweet white miso paste, which also served to create the kintsugi-inspired design on top. The resulting cheese took advantage of the interplay of the umami richness of miso and the sweet cream notes of Brillat. The mildness of both components was key to its success, with slightly sweet flavor boasting just the barest of funks. The closest comparison I've got is a barely-sweetened cream cheese frosting with the texture of triple cream Brie.

The second offering, in keeping with that pervasive French love of puns, was dubbed the Mocheese, and it proved to be my favorite of the two, maybe because it was a bit punchier. It began with Fourme d’Ambert, an admittedly mild blue hailing from Auvergne. The fourme was tempered even more with a touch of that still-same Brillat before being rolled into spheres around a sweet anko bean paste center and tossed in toasted rice. The piquant nature of the blue married so wonderfully with the sweet bean paste for a cheese that would be the perfect dessert stand-in.

While neither of these cheeses is a permanent offering (though I’m holding out hope!) Quatrehomme does sell quite a few other cheeses evoking the flavors of Japan, like sakura goat cheese and a Nikka whiskey-rubbed smoked Charolais chèvre I’m a particularly big fan of.

To discover more of my favorite cheeses, be sure to follow me on Instagram @emily_in_france, subscribe to my YouTube channel, and tune into the Terroir Podcast, where Caroline Conner and I delve into France's cheese, wine, and more one region at a time.

What I'm Eating

I love a short menu – and not just because it makes it easier for me to decide what to order. A short menu also seems like a clear indication that everything is made in-house and fresh. If I had any doubt of that at 21G Dumpling, a peek into the downstairs kitchen on my way to the bathroom proved that the ultra-savory fillings were made just steps from where I tucked in. More on the blog.

Discover more of my foodie finds via Instagram @emily_in_france and on the blog.

What I’m Doing

This year, I’m hosting not one but two retreats! But they couldn't be more different from one another.

The first is a collaboration with my friend, ceramicist and product designer Camille Drozdz of Ici l’Atelier in La Ciotat. This May, when Paris weather is still dubious at best, we’ll be welcoming a handful of lucky ladies for the second iteration of our TERRE/MER retreat. Tapping into our shared passions for art, terroir, and sisterhood, the retreat is centered on a ceramics intensive tailored to the experience level of our participants (beginners? Awesome. Advanced? Come hone your skills!)

When you’re not in the studio crafting the tableware of your dreams with experienced designer Camille, I’ll be leading cooking workshops, cheese tastings, and even a beer pairing event overlooking the gorgeous port. Throw in convivial apéros, outdoor yoga (weather permitting), and downtime to explore this beautiful seaside town, and it’s a dream come true for anyone looking for the space and time to unwind and get back in touch with a slower pace.

After our first successful week in November, we heard your feedback and are now launching a long weekend format from May 18 to 21. And we still have a few spots! Check out our website and Instagram for more info.

A little over a month later, I'll be off on yet another escapade! June 26 to 30, my friend and fellow writer Anna Polonyi and I will be launching the very first iteration of the Nantes Writers’ Workshop.

During the five-day workshop, you'll take full advantage of morning generative writing sessions with me and afternoon craft and feedback workshops with Anna, an Iowa Writers’ Workshop grad and teacher based in Nantes. In the evenings, convene with us for craft talks over an apéritif. Check out our website and Instagram for more information!

Where I’m Going

1. To Cavewoman wines, to support a woman-owned business and (OK… twist my arm…) taste some lovely wines with some lovely women in food.

2. To Dupin, where a friend and I will be sampling the luxe-looking lunchtime prix fixe.

3. To Wanted Café, a café solidaire, to indulge in a bit of writing time with a friend looking to sink into a new project.

What I'm Writing

1. I’ve got some major forthcoming coverage of Paris’ cheese scene on the way, but to tide you over, any Midwestern turophiles can take full advantage of my list of Chicago’s seven best cheese-centric dining experiences for InsideHook.

2. The best cheese flavors to pair with turkey burgers. For Mashed.

3. If you prefer your cheesy poultry sandwiches with chicken rather than turkey, meanwhile, Gott's Roadside shared their famous chicken parm recipe with me. For InsideHook.

What I'm Saying

One pervasive stereotype positions the French as having many lovers, but the truth is so much more enticing. To explore the complex relationship between French culture and sex, I’m joined on Navigating the French by Edith de Belleville, a lawyer turned tour guide who is delving deep into the 17th and 18th century and the origins of the term libertine.

What I'm Reading

1. The first time I ate lentils was at a Very Grown Up dinner at a restaurant before my Very Grown Up first opera with my parents. This, I remember. What I don't remember is when I started relying on them as the meal I turn to when I’m hungry, maybe a little skint, and have absolutely no impetus for culinary creativity. They’ve been prominent in my life for a while, so I guess it’s exciting they’re catching on? Or so says the Washington Post.

2. In uni, I took a fascinating class on definitions of Europe – all the more poignant seeing as it was in 2009. The spirit of that class pervades this deep exploration of the true meaning of “indigenous,” exploring, among other things, the repercussions of outside expectations of indigeneity on these communities’ upward mobility and ability for self-advocacy. In the New Yorker.

3. This story purporting to tell the tale of the “death of literature” actually proved far more interesting than the promise of its clickbaity title. Instead, what ensued was an exploration of, among other things, what writers put in their work without even noticing, the ways in which our powers of observation are changing due to everything from smartphones to identity politics, and how what matters enough to be written about may be impacted by these societal changes. In UnHerd.

A bientôt !