Happy New Year

Bonne Année!

The main characters in my book, Princess Izzy and the E Street Shuffle, have some issues with Paris. They are constantly rolling their eyes and complaining about all things French.

But you must understand, these are not Americans making some sort of geopolitical comment while eating their freedom fries. No, no, these are the citizens and residents of a tiny European country that sits in the shadow of France, one that is united by its hatred of Paris, a hatred that only the truly envious can understand. What’s wrong with Bisbanian fries after all? Why couldn’t the world be wild about those?

My own trip to Paris in 1998 was an absolute delight and I was happy to find that the people were very gracious to my husband and I, though our halting, phrase-book French was inadequate, laughable and in one case, fortuitous.

We were eating breakfast at a lovely café, when I timidly attempted to order a caffe latte. The waitress smiled and in a pleasing mix of French/English and the international symbol of chilly – the shiver – asked if I wanted it served hot or cold.

Relieved that she was not angry at me for my inability to speak French, I said “hot’ and gave her a big smile. Moments later, she served me a steaming cup of ... milk. I realized then, I had left out one of the most important words (and most important ingredients) in the caffe latte – the caffe.

I quickly surmised that there was no polite way to ask for her to correct my own mistake and vowed to make do.

I was pleased to discover that steamed milk is actually quite good. And it turns out it is actually available in places much closer to home – exotic, French places and, you know, places like Starbucks.

My new year’s resolution is to drink more steamed milk – often called a steamer. According to Starbucks’ website, a tall steamed non-fat milk with a sugar free syrup has 130 calories, no fat, 13 grams of protein and 40 percent of your daily requirement of calcium. And it’s warm in your hand and smooth on your throat just like coffee.

But watch out for the tempting offer of whipped cream on top. That messes with the good nutritional vibe.

But then again, French women don’t get fat. (Or so I’ve heard.)