It was Bastille Day and Nora thought she’d invite the next door neighbours over for dinner. They were French.
Nora started with a mix of snails and frogs’ legs. “It’s very French,” said Nora to her guests. “I got the snails out of a tin. They’re the real thing.” Quite frankly they would never have guessed.
Next came French Onion Soup – “It’s out of a packet,” said Nora, “so it must be the genuine stuff.” The soup was served with French fries, and garlic bread made out of a baguette.
Last served was fruit salad and ice cream. “It’s nice to have something local in this cultural exchange,” declared Nora.
The neighbours went home afterwards, delighted with Nora’s commemoration of Bastille Day. They put on their berets, and rode home on bicycles with strings of onions hanging down the front.
Weave a Web 
Loved this!💕🤣
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Thank you!
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Nora is such an angel to treat the Onion Johnnies with tinned Frenchness. I was dying to see a bottle of Champagne on the table but no, not Nora!
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I wonder if Nora’s last name was Carrot – Gnaw a Carrot (get it 😦 ) The champagne was an excellent idea. Perhaps we could have it ourselves!
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No andouillettes?
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I didn’t realize until now that the French ate Chinese armadillo eggs.
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Neither did I, Bruce – never heard of the things.
Anduoillettes, though, are the reason (I believe) that so many French people always look as though they have a bad smell under their noses. I made the mistake once of ordering one in a restaurant on the autoroute. I did NOT make the mistake of eating it!
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My international mistake was eating Japanese and I thought the green paste was guacamole! Well, it looked like it, didn’t it. It just about blew my head off! I thought I was going to die!
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Avocado, jalapeño – easy to confuse, especially if said in an unfamiliar accent.
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Not to mention tomatoes, potatoes, and sunflower seeds.
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And who expected black cumin to be called Nigella?
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An excellent name for a chef.
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She could have done îsles flottantes – the worst dessert ever invented. Great ending to the story
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Thanks, Derrick. Simon and Garfunkel should have sung: I am a rock, I am an îsles flottantes.
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Quel délicieux repas. Tout comme la mère faisait après qu’elle était au supermarché!
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Thank you, Simon. As the Beatles sang: Money can’t buy you decent foreign grub.
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They were surely very unusual French people, not what you would expect at all.
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I forgot to mention the bottle of bubbly they drank!
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