And it was Lisette's turn to say the Benedic Domine before the meal, which she said, as every good French girl knows and does in Latin three times a day. Therese the governess always thought Lisette's pronunciation particularly fine for a simple housekeeper and has always wondered if Lisette concealed some illegitimate nobility in her origin.
Frederic, Rachel's tutor, always had a nasty word for this ritual, as he would, that mad socialist who never missed an opportunity to remind everyone that he was part of the Commune in '71 who overthrew Napoleon III, but Therese could not help it and as she sometimes did, marveled out loud at how little trouble Frederic had responding 'Amen' as a communist who 'hates us.'
Frederic simply shrugged his shoulders; as a socialist it cost him nothing to worship idols.
Frederic had an answer for everything, and Therese could, as usual, couldn't help but respond in a 1% shouting tone "how can you believe we're idolators?"
"Look at all those statues you bow down to in your Cathedrals."
"They're not gods."
"Certainly they're gods. Saints, gods, it's all the same!"
"How can you believe that?"
"At least the Trinity is real gods, but the Saints are pagan statues! You pray to Joseph to replace your ceiling like he's Vesta then you pray to Matthew to pay for it like he's Juno. And I will tell you something else, back in '71..."
And Lisette as always came to the rescue:
"We know, you were there when they shot the Archbishop, unless you pulled the trigger this time we don't want to hear about it."
But since becoming the glory of Le Cordon Bleu, Louis has never missed an opportunity to bring his newfound political views into the conversation. You would think as one of Paris's most famous chefs, he would be more concerned with his art than ever, but as usual with celebrity chefs, the standard was a shell of what it was when he had something to prove, and his diners would still be amazed, knowing no difference. Rather than food, Louis inevitably focused on the weekly outrage in La Libre Parole. Sometimes he even got his opinions from l'Antijuif but he knew better than to tell anyone in Maison Bloch.
"I can have at least have a little appreciation for socialism, you care about the poor, even if your poor are everyone except the French."
Frederic seemed almost in a hurry to nibble on the hook this evening: "It's also French people!"
"Frenchmen can't get what they need if they have to share it with the whole world!"
"Why shouldn't we care about the world?"
"Because you are a French!"
"Am I a French? How many times has our anti-Semtic cook told us that Jews can never be French?"
"How are you a Jew Frederic? You are a socialist!"
"I have Jewish blood!"
"I thought you told me that only your grandfather was Jewish."
"Doesn't that mean that my Frenchness is impure?"
"Relax Frederic, there's not an anti-Semite in the world who'd consider you a Jew because you have a Jewish grandparent."
"You cry out all the time how much Jewish blood pollutes the purity of France!"
"Frederic, no one has pure French blood."
"They don't?"
"Frederic, you are Alsatian, I am Alsatian. Even if you are partly Jewish, you are partly German too, and German blood is better than French."
Louis must have been in a better humor than recently because he was usually not ready to concede that much, and it was especially on Friday nights that he was most belligerent. It was only the last Sabbath dinner that Louis explained how since Frederic's surname - Waldteufel, means 'forest devil' in German, Frederic on his Jewish side descends from devils. When Frederic kindly pointed out that it was the Germans who forced their Jews to take insulting surnames, Louis replied that surely the Germans forced their Jews to take such names after Jews did something evil. Louis felt more belligerent than ever, but his aim was on another target.
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