Thanksgiving in Paris: A French act of kindness and Expatsgiving

Thanksgiving may fall on a Thursday in America, but in the expat world, Thanksgiving is on a Saturday.

Yet knowing you’re going to celebrate on Saturday doesn’t lessen the heartache that comes from waking up on Thanksgiving alone, in a country that sees it as just another workday.

So I’ll admit it. I was a mess on Thursday.

Despite this being my fourth Thanksgiving away from home, something in me snapped this year. In previous cities I’d always had a large group of friends to keep me company during the holidays. In Paris, I couldn’t get everyone together. And I didn’t have Mike by my side.

I went to work in a sad Charlie Brown-like state. Then late in the afternoon, I received a call from my boss.

“It’s Thanksgiving, so we were wondering if you would like to have dinner with us? Sorry it’s late notice — “

“No, it’s okay!” I blurted, immediately accepting their invitation.

I was touched. My bosses are French.

I nearly started crying right there and then in front of a group of clueless Parisians.

Of course, being French, dinner was a bit more formal than an American Thanksgiving — we had a starter course of pumpkin soup made from scratch, elegantly presented with garnish in an ornate china pot; followed by a plate of French turkey, stuffing (also homemade!), roasted chestnuts, and baked apples. I don’t think I need to say the dinner was spectacular. (I’ve yet to meet a Frenchman who can’t cook.)

I had stopped into my favorite boulangerie on the way over and picked up a box of desserts, so instead of pumpkin pie we had flaky millefeuilles and rich éclairs.

It was just a simple act of kindness, inviting me over for dinner. But my bosses have no idea how much that little gesture meant to me on the fourth Thursday of November.

***

On Saturday came Expatsgiving chez Emily. Emily was the one of the very first friends I made here and also one of the biggest foodies I know (long-time readers might remember she introduced me to my favorite croque madame, and also penned the inaugural ILMN post), so I was more than happy to be spending Thanksgiving with one of my oldest Paris pals.

Given Emily’s blog is basically nothing but recipe after mouth-watering recipes, I knew she would be having a feast of amazing home-cooked food.

And a feast it was. So instead of writing about it I’m just going to show you:

Every inch of kitchen counter space was covered with dishes to be served — Emily had started cooking at noon.

THIS. This is what heaven tastes like.

Once more for emphasis: baked cheese with CIDER JAM. So good.

My contribution to dinner, because I can’t cook.

Food just kept coming out in a never-ending parade of gluttony, so I couldn’t get a shot of the table resplendent with our entire feast. Not that everything would have fit on one table anyway.

There was enough food to feed twenty people, so the seven of us did the best we could before succumbing to food comas. Without the Macy’s Day Parade, the American girls decided to put on 10 Things I Hate About You; the French guys lasted all of five minutes before leaving us with Heath Ledger to hang out in the kitchen.

And thus, with Can’t Take My Eyes Off You still stuck in our heads and leftover-filled Tupperware in our hands, another expat Thanksgiving came to a successful close.

Update: There’s a third! My friend Ashley and I cooked an entire Thanksgiving dinner for a French family. Read about it here. 

Fellow expats: How did you celebrate Thanksgiving? Who hosted? And who went to the most Thanksgiving dinners this weekend?