French Easter Traditions--The Tombola de Pâques

My local bakery is featuring quite often on this blog, isn't it? This time it isn't about me or what I've eaten, been told, or bought. This time it's about the Tombola de Pâques.

Every Easter the owner/pâtissier/boulanger extraordinaire designs and makes a towering creation of chocolate. It is quite impressive atop the glass patissierie case.

{The Big Prize}

No child can enter without gasping, in awe of what must look to them like the happiest, most indulgent treat ever. Perhaps it's exactly what children would wish for if they could win the lottery, if they even knew what a lottery was.

And thanks to the Tombola, they do. Because the Easter Tombola is just that; a lottery. You buy a square, put your name in it and hope, hope, wish, wish that you'll win the giant chocolate chicken and egg masterpiece. It's all edible, even the boxes.

{little nests}

Of course we bought a square, number 89 to be exact. But what in the world will I do if we win it? It is a lot of chocolate people, 500 kilograms to be exact. I'd  have to have you all over.

I gathered up my courage this year and asked permission to take some photos for you. I was rewarded not only with photos but also with a trip upstairs to the work areas.

 

 

{funny bunnies}

I saw where they make the baguettes, croissants and pain au chocolat every day. I watched as the owner and one of his employees made sheets of France's answer to tiramisu, the Opera.

{upstairs making cakes}

It was so exciting! I felt like I'd already won the tombola. Msr Boulanger told me to bring the children in after the Easter rush and he will show them around upstairs too. He also said I can come in next year and watch as he makes the chocolate bunnies, bells, elephants and roosters as well as the coming year's tombola tower.

{Msr et Mme Boulanger}

He was so nice, forgiving my horrible French and explaining how the bakery works, showing me everything, even giving me a small cuilliere of chocolate ganache that went into making the Opera.

I am always pleasantly surprised and delighted by how kind people can be. I was shy and afraid of making mistakes, sure I would look like an idiot for asking, but I'm so glad I did. You learn something every day. So what if I look like an idiot, now there's a story behind my baguettes, lemon tarts and croissant aux amandes.

Happy Easter everyone. I'll let you know if we win the chocolate.

Ma Fille's French Poesie

Learning and reciting poetry is a big part of the French primary school curriculum at our school. I'm sure it's the same all over.

It teaches children how to plan and study, to memorize and retain information, to read poetry and appreciate the different story-telling that can be done through poems, and it bolsters confidence in public speaking. All that plus, I just like hearing my children recite French poems.

Some of the poems are political, some are enchanting, most deal with death or other heavy subjects made lighter, shown in a simple way.

Last week Ma Fille learned this poem about waiting. When she recited it to us at dinner it made me cry. I couldn't stop myself and when I think of it still, it makes me feel weepy. You all know I am weird like that and strange things like riding a bike along the Canal du Midi can bring a tear to my eye.

{mother and child, both waiting}

The last lines are what got me:
'I'm waiting for a child, says the mother.
I'm waiting for everything, says the child.'

Here she is reciting the original.

J'attends

J'attends la pluie 

Dit le désert,  

J'attends la paix 

Dit le soldat 

J'attends demain  

Dit aujourd'hui 

J'attends la nuit 

Dit la luciole 

Moi aussi dit l'astronome  

Moi aussi dit l'étoile  

J'attends le vent  

Dit la fleur de pissenlit 

Moi aussi dit l'oiseau 

J'attends mon heure 

Dit le prisonnier 

Moi dit la liberté  

J'attends la paix  

Dit le soldat  

Tu l'as déjà dit 

Je sais dit le soldat 

J'attends un enfant 

Dit la mère 

J'attends tout  

Dit l'enfant

Hubert Mingarell

Next, the children had to write their own version of the poem.

This is Ma Fille's:

J'attends

J’attends la justice

Dit la guerre

J’attends le soir

Dit le matin

J’attends la réponse

Dit la question

J’attends cent

Dit quatre vingt dix neuf

Moi aussi dit quatre vingt dix huit

Moi aussi dit quatre vingt dix sept  

J’attends le vent

Dit l’arbre

Moi aussi dit la feuille

J’attends mon prince

Dit la princesse

Moi aussi dit la reine

J’attends la justice

Dit la guerre

Tu l’as déjà dit

Je sais dit la guerre

J’attends une cavalière

Dit le cheval

J’attends tout

Dit la cavalière 

Ma Fille 

April Fool's Day Lunch in Provence

Yesterday, the lovely and clever Kirsty made what seemed like a scheduling impossibility, possible.
She invited my little brood plus ma belle Sara and The Husband over for Sunday lunch at hers with her delightful Mister and adorable, dimpled quartet.

Turns out it was April Fool's Day, or as it's known here in France, Poisson d'Avril.
We Anglophones like to play various tricks and jokes on this day and I started the day off by making the kids believe that for one day birds fly backwards, fish swim upside down and flower blooms swap colors. They believed it for about a minute until Ma Fille, bright bulb that she is, twigged it.

The French have a different tradition. The children make fish and then stick them on the backs of unsuspecting (ahem) friends and adults. I told you all about it last year, you can read that here.

This year we went to Kirsty's and my kids got busy making fish in the car, ready to tape to backs once we arrived. They wrote funny sayings like, 'I am bizarre', 'I like nail polish', 'I am a weirdo' and 'I like to run with scissors'.

We went to the boulangerie to find something delicious to take with us and there were fish everywhere. Strawberry tart fish, apple tart fish, hollow chocolate fish in two sizes and puff pastry fish filled with the renowned frangipane of the famous croissant aux amandes. We bought one of those and were on our way. Kirsty wrote about it too.

{kirsty's photo of the frangipane poisson}

We spent a perfect, but fast-flying, six hours together, eating, laughing, joking and enjoying the warm day on Kirsty's beautiful terrace while the kids ran and jumped and played until the Littlest was literally falling down tired. It looked like he'd had as much pink wine as his P-Daddy.

Thank you Kirsty, Mister and La Quartet for the perfect Sunday.
And you too Sara and G-Ton for being so much like family that people think we've known each other for years. 

I don't know what I'd do without all the love that's bloomed from this little blog. No foolin'.