The ‘P’s’ of Summer: ‘Pétanque’ and ‘Pastèque’

I’m on our Village Committee and Saturday was the day our village sponsored the annual pétangue competition for our area.  People come from miles around to compete on the large flat playing field at the top of the village.  As a committee member, I’m pressed into service as one of the ‘barmaids’, serving beer and Orangina, wine and waffles and french fries, at the buvette, between rounds. 

You’ve probably seen pétanque, or boules, being played in some dusty village square in France.  Basically, you throw balls down a lane and try to hit the target jack, and bump other balls out of your way.  Of course everyone has their own beloved set of metal pétanque balls, packed into a little valises.  It’s not an athletic game, there’s very little action and minimal equipment, and the game itself can be nap-inducing to watch 

Look closer, though, at the subtleties, and you might learn something about the French.  The really lovely thing about this game is that anyone can play, and win.  Young and old, male and female, athletic or not, it’s a level playing field.  I watched a family of three generations play, a teen-age granddaughter evenly matched against her 80-something grand-père.  Photo:  lined up for a throw, in perfect form.

At our village competition, groups of two play each other for an hour, then everyone drinks and chats for an hour around the buvette.  It’s a grand French tradition that the losers buy the drinks.  This cycle is repeated three times, and for each round, you are paired with a different team.  So you get to play against friends old and new, bavarder a bit, drink a bit.  On the field, there is high drama when a dispute erupts over ball placement; arguing, grand gesturing, and much carrying-on ensues.  This, I think, is the real point of the game.    Photo:  But is it sport? Note the magnet on a string, which you use so you won't have to bend over to pick up balls.

I won’t take on the French at their game, but my Dutch friend Jacqueline and her husband stepped right up to the plate last year.  “We won a prize!” Jacqueline exclaimed proudly.  “We got the prize for the worst score!”  Her husband was shamed into quitting, but Jacqueline is back this year, expecting to ‘win’ a second time. 

Meanwhile, back at the buvette, I’m struggling with the vast terminology of drinking.  A beer is une biere, un pression, un demi, or une mousse, or even une panaché, which is beer and lemonade. Pastis can also be pastaga. On a hot day they may order a wine that is watered down, called l'eau coloré. Then, there is this bizarre drink:  red or white wine mixed with a splash of limondade.  (even my French friends don't agree on the name/spelling for this one–something like un limé, anyone know?).  How come they don’t teach you all this useful vocabulary in French 101?

Now onto that other ‘P’ word, pastèque.  The French love watermelon, and we can get really beautiful varieties here.  They’ve even warmed up to the seedless ones (though seedless French grapes are still not available, as they’re considered unnatural).  Time for a frozen drink for these last days of summer, so I’ve whipped up an icy watermelon concoction that’s just the thing after a rousing game of pétanque.  Leave out the rum, and it makes a great frozen smoothie for breakfast.  

RECIPE:  Pink Pastéque Julep

Makes 2 drinks. Merci to the folks at Happy Healthy Life for the inspiration for this recipe.

Freeze about 3 cups of watermelon, cut up small, in a plastic bag for a couple of hours.  Put  it in a blender with the juice of a lime and a half of a banana (for texture, mostly), and a few leaves of fresh mint.  Add 2 oz. of rum or vodka (add water or orange juice instead for the virgin version).  Pulse and then stir a few times, adding water as needed, repeating until you have the consistency you want.  I like to eat it with a spoon, but you can water it down until it’s drinkable.  Then blend in a little sugar syrup, to taste.

If your watermelon is frozen rock hard, you will need to defrost it a tadin your microwave, unless you’ve got a better blender than mine, which you probably do.     

*sugar syrup:  every southerner will keep a little pitcher of this in the fridge during the summer, to sweeten their ice tea.  Just add boiling water to sugar, in about equal parts, and stir until dissolved.

Francophile Alert!  Sandra Vann, one of our readers, has a super opportunity for you.  She's leading a Woman's Tour of the South of France in September.  Fun, advenerous women wanted. Sound fabulous?  Get the details here: http://www.americansinfrance.net/TravelPlanner/Discover-Southern-France.cfm 

FAVORITE READS & DVD's, summer vacation edition:  French Kiss is a fun little fluff of a film if you haven't seen it.  And for the funniest take on the French ever, you'll want to check out Stephen Clarke's A Year in the Merde.

In the Comments:  Dear Readers, boy did y'all have your own ideas on French 'cultural hiccups'!  Don't miss the list, under last week's post.

And here's a new site for ex-pats I've discovered:  http://www.blogexpat.com/

Unless otherwise attributed, all POSTS, PHOTOS and RECIPES on this blog copyright ©2011 Lynn McBride.  All Rights Reserved.