After the grandiose Christmas festivities, my New Year's Eve in France turned out to be pretty calm.

There was no pompous omisoka rhapsody like in Japan -- much less a year-end clean-up, last-minute shopping rush (stores stay open), the sound of 108 gongs at midnight, or thankfully the Kohaku Uta-gassen singing contest. I slipped into a new year without even realizing it.

After celebrating Christmas at home, many French people get together with friends on New Year's Eve. New Year's countdown parties in France have one peculiar ritual: The moment the clock hits midnight, the kissing begins with anyone and everyone within reach (I'm not sure if you can choose not to accept a kiss).

We were invited to a party, but I had to take a rain check -- not so much because I was afraid of the kissing assault as I was concerned that I might face a new stomach crisis due to all the recent surfeits.

What did I eat over Christmas? On Christmas Eve, my companion's family came from Paris and six of us attacked two goose egg-size foie-gras for entree. Then we had cailles farcies aux marrons (stuffed quails with chestnuts), puree de pomme (apple puree), and finished with a generous slice of buche de noel (log-shape roll cake). I enjoyed the authentic supper a lot, tipsy on champagne.

On Christmas Day, we swallowed innumerable oysters -- French oysters are lean and excellent when eaten fresh -- followed by pintade aux choux (guinea fowl enveloped in cabbage) and another piece of heavy chocolate cake.

While cramming down leftover foie-gras on Boxing Day (Dec. 26), however, my stomach experienced a minor French revolution and I was forced to retire to my bed for the remainder of the festivities. As I tossed and turned in the throes of indigestion, I secretly added one more resolution to my New Year's list: Never attempt to compete with the French at the table.

Although the new year has arrived, the festive mood that started in early December hasn't died out. Christmas decorations are everywhere (the French are charmingly unpunctual people) and there was Epiphany -- another Christian tradition Jan. 6 -- to mark. In a country of gourmands, of course, it's another excuse to sit around the table!

This month's culinary star is galette de rois (king's cake). Made of slightly different ingredients depending on the region -- puff pastry in the north and brioche in the south -- you can find it in all French bakeries at this time of year. Inside the cake can be plain or filled with frangipane, an almond-flavored paste.

It is called king's cake because it is a celebration of the three Magi visiting baby Jesus. When kings weren't popular around the time of the French Revolution, it was called gateau de l'egalite (equality cake).

Whatever its historical background, sharing a galette at the beginning of January remains a very popular tradition in France. The most exciting moment is cutting the cake because inside there is a tiny feve (a bean, as a symbol of fertility) hiding.

Whoever finds the feve becomes a king or queen, and will be crowned with a golden paper crown. Or, they have to buy a round of drinks for all.

True or not, it often resulted in the king or queen secretly swallowing the bean to avoid buying drinks -- therefore, today's beans are made of china.

These cute lucky charms, glazed or hand-painted, often represent a religious figure such as the baby Jesus. But what I found in my slice was a donkey.

Whatever this means, I hope that it will bring me a lot of luck this year.

I'd welcome any comments or opinions, in Japanese or English, about my column. You can write or fax me at The Weekly, or e-mail me at jtweekly@japantimes.co.jp

The Japan Times Weekly: Jan. 22, 2005
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