Halloween and the ongoing debate about BBQ

Tonight I met up with Anais to go to a party outside of Paris. I couldn't stay in on Halloween night, which is also the night before a French holiday. This being the case, Paris stays up a bit later than normal. It wasn't a Halloween party per se, but a BBQ. I've had many discussions with some Parisian lately about the term BBQ/barbeque. I get confused when they talk about it. When the French talk about BBQing, they mean "grilling". I've tried to explain that BBQing is when you grill and add the sauce and make it all messy and greasy and GOOD. I was then told that the term "barbeque" is actually a French term, so they are actually able to define what the word actually means. However, Texans took it to a much bigger (and better) level.

I was hanging out by the GRILL (not the barbecue) and a girl from California walked up. Gaby (a Frenchie) asked her while pointing to the object which heated the hot dogs, "What do you call that?" She replied with "a BBQ." I gasped. An American called it a BBQ. There were laughs, then Gaby explained to her that I continually insist that it's a grill and not a BBQ. She asked "Where are you from?" I responded that I was from Texas. Then she retorts, "Oh, well she is from Texas, so she knows what she is talking about! They know how to do BBQ." Bing bang whoop whoop! V for Victory. I rest my case.

Here's something great that you Texans will love. So they have hot dogs and the French actually call them that. I found that interesting. I actually thought they would be called "la chien chaud". However, just because they use our language does not mean they do "hot dogs" the same. I let out a big laugh when I saw cut baguettes on the grill. No buns here, just french bread. I am not saying that it's not good, it's just French. I probably should have tried one just so I could report on it, but I didn't. Maybe next time.

I didn't stay long, but the time I was there was grand. I love conversation on a long metro ride. Reminds me of a little road trip, only you don't have to watch the road. However, you have the distraction of someone missing their stop or someone having a ticket that won't get them out of the metro because they never actually used it to get into the metro because they snuck through...uh hemmm Kara...breathe...long sentence....Only three of you will actually understand that. Apologies for the rest of you.

Anais and I being our normal selves waiting for the RER

Upon arriving home I had a lovely package from Mommy Dearest, only she really is dear and not like Joan Crawford. I didn't even have to get dressed up or knock on anyone's door for this!