Many are
the ways French people will attempt to humiliate you. Their tactics are mainly
linguistic, so I have compiled a list of traps I have either been cruelly
degraded by or have narrowly avoided, keeping a hold of my world-famous
dignity. I hope they help you dodge any pitfalls if, god forbid, you ever
decide to come here.
Javel: things
are getting dutty so you buy multi-surface cleaner. There’s the option of
‘javel’ spray or ‘sans javel’ spray, so OBVIOUSLY you think wow Javel sounds
pretty desirable, maybe upon usage some early-noughties RnB diva will materialise
from the nozzle and start singing B With Me, or at least my kitchen will be as
scintillating as Mary J Blige. NO. Javel is their unnecessarily appealing word for
BLEACH, and whilst bleach is a much more ominous word, the French will try to
get this shit all over your hands so they resemble a nappy-rashed Ken
Clarke.
Confit de
canard: Just sounds to me like ‘duck jam’. Confit probably isn’t the same as confiture
but I bet ducks still get minced, squished and pasted into a jar. As is the norm with French food.
Thon: How was
I supposed to know that this means tuna? It sounds like some Norse God. I was intimidated
for weeks.
Carottes
rapées: On my shopping list each week as ‘raped carrots’.
Crudités: I
always read this as ‘cruddities’ and imagine a pile of turd hidden amongst some
salad leaves.
Persil: Both
the detergent brand and the word for ‘parsley’, but you’d have to be pretty
fucking dim to get them confused.
Pain: I
have studied French for what, 9 years? And I still read this word with an
English accent. Obviously meaning ‘bread’, one of my preferred passe-temps is
imagining French people queuing up for daily torture at ‘Le pain quotidien’ or chuckling
immaturely at the agonisingly tasty consequences of ‘pain au chocolat’.
