Foodie Faux Pas

La Viande Txoigitxu - an expensive dinner. This plate cost 62 euros

Most people who have eaten restaurant or cafe food in a foreign country will have probably experienced the occasional 'surprise' dish. Perhaps the surprise was in the excellence of the food, perhaps disappointment in the standard or, worst of all, it's an 'oh good grief what the **** is this I've ordered?' And do I really want to know? We've experienced all three over the past couple of months including some truly dire pizzas but then a bad pizza is never really that unexpected; I'm of the opinion now that if it takes more than 10 minutes to make and serve it counts as above average on the pizza edibility scale.
Nowadays, many people unfamiliar with the language on a menu will use their smart phone and Google translate which is sensible. For us, maybe we don't have a phone with us, or there's no internet connection, or we (I) assume we know what the word means. Sometimes we might guess or we just say who knows? - let's be adventurous. Actually the latter is usually me and it has been an effective way of searing some vocabulary into my brain.  I know to steer clear of 'andouillettes de Troyes' for example that 'ris' is not rice (that's 'riz') and that salade de gesiers is best not ordered again.
Of course taste is entirely a personal matter. French cooking doesn't waste any animal parts - it turns them into 'delicacies'. If you don't know what they are perhaps you'll find them delicious too. Incidentally being vegetarian or vegan in regional France might limit your choices but there is generally a variety of salads on offer (or pizza).

 A couple of food words I learned recently:
Bulot. I ordered the set menu as it included the main course I actually wanted and cost only 4 euros more. For that I would got an entree and dessert as well. The entree was Salade de Bulots et crevettes.  I knew crevettes were prawns but what were bulots? A quick check of the a la carte had them as usually costing 13 euro so I thought they can't be bad (so where's the reasoning in that?) When the glass bowl was placed in front of me I had one of those aforementioned  good grief moments. The prawns hung delicately around the lip of the bowl but perched atop the lettuce were what looked like 4 giant snails. It should have been called a gardener's nightmare. I knew already that snails are escargots and I do actually quite like them - hot and in garlic and parsley butter. But these were huge and straight out of a cold fridge. Well, you don't know until you try do you? So I did and you don't need to. They were disgusting (in my opinion). They weren't in fact snails. Bulots are whelks.

Morue. This was on the specials board at a little restaurant beside the canal in the lovely village of Le Someil. This time I asked what it was. The waitress was keen to speak in English and replied that it was cod. I buy cod quite often and know that it is 'cabillaud' so I queried her, repeating both the words and asking if they are the same. Yes, it is cod she insisted. So, I repeated 'morue' again and asked her if I was pronouncing it correctly. She gave me the proper pronunciation and started laughing when I said it again loudly and clearly in my best French accent. 'You must be very careful with this word,' she said. ' It is used for a sad lady.' Fortunately, I have not since gone around describing myself or anyone else as feeling or looking a bit 'morue'. As well as being cod it means a prostitute. The filet de morue was very good I'm happy to report.

Menu at Vinauberge, Poilhes. Photo above.