May Day in Metz
(France): Eastern France Celebrates the Day with Traditional Lilies by Savvy
Mom Ruth Paget
My
husband Laurent and I arrived in lush, green Metz in Eastern France earlier
than planned. It rains a lot in this
region, which makes life disagreeable during winter, but beautiful in summer.
Flowers
abound and lilac trees pop up everywhere with their sweet fragrance. The child in me wanted to pick a few lilac
stems just for me.
We
enjoyed driving along the limpid Moselle and Seille Rivers. The charm of Metz is that this city is built
on several islands in these rivers.
We
spent our time touring town. We knew
that we could not arrive before the appointed time in France for a meal, so we
had fun exploring town.
We
went to the area around the heavy, stone Germanic train station where we could
find parking. We unloaded Florence and
went to a shoe store where Laurent could purchase shoes at a lower price than
in Paris; retail store rent in Metz was lower than it was in Paris, which the
store owner passed on to the customer here by lowering the price of shoes.
The
city was building a parking lot for the train station, which had become an
archaeological dig. There were many
Roman ruins in the area. Some people
even believed the bones of “garoully” were being dug up. I did, too, until I looked the word up in the
dictionary and asked people if that was really the word for “dragon.”
We
drove along the fashionable Avenue Foch and looked at the heavy, stone
Germanic-style houses whose decorative garlands looked ready to fall from their
weight. The feather-light French
apartment buildings had decorative garlands that seemed to float.
We
drove to St. Symphorien Island where Laurent’s cousin lived. We were still a little early, but we found a
park where Florence could play some more.
A respectable hour to show up finally arrived. We brushed sand off of Florence and went to
the apartment.
We
exchanged two-cheeked air kisses once we arrived. Laurent’s cousin asked Florence, “Treasure,
how are you doing?”
I
liked Laurent’s cousin, because she called Florence and her grandchildren
“Treasure.”
Next,
we set out for our hotel. Laurent’s
cousin told the manager of the hotel that the rooms were correct, but, “Surely
you must have something better.” (I
think she was in a loyalty program and had points to use for hotel room
upgrades.)
Laurent’s
cousin worked for the French administration and made sure her little cousins
were going to be taken care of well.
We
came back to the apartment to eat a delicious lunch that Laurent’s cousin’s
husband prepared. We began our meal with
hard-boiled eggs served with sour capers and chopped raw vegetables. The shiny egg yolks looked like custard.
Our
raw vegetables would have pleased any vegetarian. We started with one of my favorite entrées –
a grated carrot salad with oil and vinegar dressing seasoned only with salt and
pepper.
Sometimes
the simplest things are some of the best.
(I also like the Moroccan version of grated carrot salad with a sweet
and lemony dressing, raisins soaked in tea, and fresh mint leaves.)
Next
among our tasty openers was grated celeriac, wild celery in remoulade
sauce. Remoulade sauce is made with
homemade mayonnaise and Dijon mustard.
We also ate sliced cucumbers in fresh cream.
Laurent’s
cousin’s main dish of veal knuckle in a white wine sauce with onions,
mushrooms, and tomatoes made me ask for seconds and forget my perpetual dieting
to be a runway model.
The
tender veal meat fell off the bone and tasted delicious with Pinot Noir from
Alsace (Jérome Lorentz fils 1992). I
felt like I was eating a classic French meal, but it could be equally a German
meal I thought.
For
the cheese course, I thought I ate a ripe, runny Camembert. Laurent’s cousin served strawberries from the
Marne region in red wine for dessert. I
liked this just as well as dunking them in sugar.
We
drank strong espressos with an eau-de-vie made of yellow plums called
mirabelles, a specialty of the Lorraine region.
This
great lunch necessitated a walk around town “to digest” as the French say.
By
Ruth Paget, author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France
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