Latest news with #Frenchness
New European
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New European
Dilettante: Have I become British?
Well, it probably is for some. I wouldn't know how they feel. Last week, I, a foreigner, recorded an episode of The News Quiz on Thursday evening then, on Sunday, went to the shop to pick up a paper, in which I had a column about county cricket. Oh, and on Saturday I had a boozy picnic on the grounds of Windsor Castle, while watching some more cricket. How do you know you've successfully integrated into the country you decided to move to, years or decades earlier? Some may say it's a feeling that's hard to describe, and never quite comes to you as an epiphany. It's such a deep, complex topic – how to decide, for certain, that the place you emigrated to has changed you for good? It's just easier said than done. As far as I'm concerned, I should be allowed to send the paragraph above to the Home Office and gain access to this famous blue passport I've heard so much about, no questions asked. Still, my especially British week made me think. In what ways have my 15 years here reshaped both my innate and learned Frenchness? In what ways am I still, in essence, fresh off the Eurostar? It turned into quite a fun game, and I made a little list for each side. Here are my results: Too British to ever return home In the first column, I started by adding… well, what I've just told you about. I watched cricket twice in a single fortnight, of my own volition. It wasn't even glamorous, glitzy T20: I really did sit there and watch players do not much at all for hours on end. I told my mother about it and her reaction made it sound like I'd just mentioned a quick, casual trip to Mars and back. Another important change is that I'm now unbearably, comically polite. I apologise to lampposts not only if I walk into them, but even if I happen to merely brush past them. I had an interaction with a woman in the gym the other day which essentially consisted of us apologising to each other for a full minute. If interrupting a stranger in a public place, I will make sure to say 'sorry' at least seven times, in a wide variety of ways, before getting to my point. A third, perhaps critical shift is that – God, it hurts to even type – I now prefer British drinking hours. I moved here and was baffled by this habit of getting to the pub exceedingly early, having a full night out, then being in bed by 11pm. It went against everything my Mediterranean roots craved. Still, over time, I got used to it. I even… started preferring it. Who wants to go out at 9pm then get home in the middle of the night? I want to get sloshed and I want to wake up some time before noon, thank you very much. I'm sorry, je ne parle pas anglais Listen, I'm not judging. We're just different. That's fine. All I will say is that what I think of as a 'going out' outfit is not what women here think of as a 'going out' outfit. My dresses will never be short enough. I will never show enough cleavage. I will never wear heels high enough. No amount of make-up on my face will ever be enough. I have made my peace with that. Similarly: a fact that has often amused my friends is that I have never, in my life, bought a supermarket meal deal. I consider lunch to be a proper meal, on par with dinner. I refuse to eat at my desk, and I want to eat something substantial, and preferably warm. I believe you're cheating yourselves when it comes to lunch. Give it the respect it deserves. Oh, and speaking of which: I will never have dinner before 7.30pm. I take dinner time so seriously that pals will message me when eating at 6pm, purely because they know it will enrage me. It always works. I hate the idea of early dinner so much that merely imagining it, as a concept, makes me angry. No amount of time spent here will change that. Tea, on the other hand, is something I'm mellower on. People are allowed to enjoy it. It's a free country. I just don't think it'll ever be for me, though: I've tried it black and milky, with and without sugar, and I just don't really get the point. You can yank my single espresso out of my cold, dead, shaking hands. This is where my list ended, though I knew it could have gone on – and on, and on. I really enjoyed writing it, because it made me realise that some parts of my personality are thoroughly malleable, when others will clearly never change, no matter what happens to me. I don't know that, 15 years ago, I could have predicted any of those shifts, or lack thereof, and that's a good thing. Maybe I'll do another one of those lists in another decade and a half, see who I am then. I look forward to it.
Time Out
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Photograph: Supplied/Yellow
✍️ Time Out Sydney never writes starred restaurant and bar reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills, and anonymously reviews, so that readers can trust our critique. Find out more, here. Update: Potts Point 's butter-yellow plant-based restaurant – and one of Sydney's best – is under new ownership. The fine diner, which the Bentley Boys (Eleven Barrack, King Clarence, Monopole) opened in 2014, is now being run by long-time head chef Sander Nooij and his business partner Mark Hanover. But fans of the Macleay Street restaurant can rest assured that the creative, elevated, seasonal and truly beautiful dishes will remain, with the team committed to 'botanical gastronomy'. Nooij said: 'Botanical gastronomy is a culinary approach that celebrates the vibrant world of plants, herbs, and flowers. Free from animal products yet rich in flavour, we emphasise seasonality, sustainability and the extraordinary. Our goal is to create a dining experience that is not just for vegans, but for anyone who values creativity, refinement, and the beauty of nature on their plates. Free from the controversy and politics that can be part of the vegan narrative, botanical gastronomy merges elements of contemporary cuisine with a strong emphasis on botanical ingredients, showcasing their flavours, textures, and nutritional advantages,' he added. Yellow is renowned for its six-course seasonal menu celebrating heirloom vegetables from local suppliers. While what you have on the night will vary, you might enjoy things like a crisp polenta chip with a caper sauce and avocado salsa; smoked tomatoes paired with silky cashew cream and plums; an eggplant parcel with hemp ricotta and chilli crisp; and a riff on banoffee pie made with bananas from Boon Luck Farm. Whether you follow a plant-based diet or not, this feel-good restaurant is for everyone who appreciates a cracking, thoughtful meal – one that just happens to be vegan. Hell: bring your meat-lovin' mates and don't tell them. – Avril Treasure ***** It takes a kind of vision bordering on the mad to see a burnt onion as a dessert, but that is the creative genius we're dealing with from the team at Yellow. Not just a staunchly savoury veg, but a burned one at that, is ground down into a charcoal-black powder to contrast brutishly with the pretty-in-pink Frenchness of a tartine made from more leaves of sticky apple than your average Penguin Classic. This is so much more than meat-free cooking, it's abstract expressionism with fruit and veg. Brent Savage and Nick Hildebrandt's restaurant empire (Bentley, Monopole, Cirrus) had always catered to vegetarians without making a fuss, but when they devoted their Potts Point dining room to the best of the plant world, people really started to take notice. And importantly, they kept coming back for more. More of the stracciatella, a fresh cheese that's so creamy and relaxed it's basically a liquid, sprinkled with a magic banana powder made from extreme slow cooked bananas (two and a half months at 60 degrees in the skins). Add the bright tang of cumquat and it's almost a sweet, except for the fierce pull towards savoury by the gently charred, sprouting broccoli and cauliflower. The vegetables win this one, but only just. Baby corn in a can is a monstrosity; baby corn served in its charred husk, under a blanket of funky miso milk crumbs, is bringing smoky maturity to next-gen veg. A round of applause goes to the tight harmonies in a dish of nori sheets camouflaging a core of soft leek wearing the reflected richness of shaved duck yolk and parmesan's gravitas. Horseradish brings the treble, shimeji mushrooms the earthy bass, and a sweet-tart ponzu dressing makes a surprising guest appearance. We are not being facetious when we say that the baked celeriac, with all the earthy grunt and spiced char of a prime cut, trumps meat. And fried chicken is matched and in many ways bested by the juiciness, savouriness and feather-light crunch of Jerusalem artichokes in a tapioca batter, served on a rich and powerful, condensed Swiss brown and button mushroom purée. We expect vegetables to be part of a great tasting menu in Sydney, but it's rare to see them demand the spotlight like a diva hitting the high notes and refuse to relinquish their starring role. This is what makes Yellow such an extraordinary restaurant. They've seismically shifted how we frame fine dining in Sydney, and we love them for it. – Reviewed in 2018.
Local France
13-02-2025
- Business
- Local France
PODCAST: What does it mean to be French and how will France's budget impact you?
Host Ben McPartland is joined by The Local's Emma Pearson, Genevieve Mansfield and John Lichfield to discuss all the latest news. We start by testing out Le Chat, France's new AI tool, and examine why president Emmanuel Macron is so enamoured of AI technology. The 2025 Budget is finally approved, with tax hikes for the wealthy and an increase in the eco tax on plane tickets - but perhaps the most controversial element is planned changes to the VAT threshold for micro-entrepreneurs, aka France's 200,000 freelancers, contractors and sole traders. France has new nominations for UNESCO World Heritage status - including eight castles in south-west France which have a fascinating history and are a little off the usual tourist trail. A French train passenger has been making headlines after he was fined €150 for using his phone on speaker, so we're taking a look at what the rules are on phone use on French trains, and what else you can be fined for (especially important for the owners of pet snails). And finally, what does it mean to be French? The prime minister wants a public debate on it, so we're attempting to sum up the concept of Frenchness, with the help of a few famous writers and an emperor.
