I am a bilingual person. I speak English, Southern and Pig Latin exceptionally well. I always wanted to speak another language like Spanish, French or something exotic, but I only mastered these three.
My husband’s brother was a career Army man, and he married a girl from a little port close to Paris and brought her home with him. She’s coming into a small town in Mississippi where her people only speak Ethel, Mississippi, Southern, and she’s only fluent in French. I was only 16 the first time I met her, and I was bowled over by her French beauty and her different facial features. She, I’m sure told me, “Nice to meet you” or “Hello” or something like that, but all I heard was “vous en te searl memio” or something like that??? I had no idea what she was saying, and her husband had to translate for her. Now you need to remember he’s a country boy from Ethel, Mississippi, and only learned her language by being with the French people, so he’s not fluent but he could translate as to where we could get the gist of her talking. I believe he spoke Mississippi Southern French.
My husband and I were dating at the time but knowing several months in advance that he was bringing her home, I went to the library and checked out a book to help me learn some French expressions. I learned “parlez-vous francais?” which translates into, “Do you speak French?” When I said that to her, she of course, thought I was fluent and begins jabbering. I decided to keep my idioms to myself.
She wanted to become a U.S. citizen, so she began learning English to my delight so I could talk to her, and we became great friends. Her husband was so romantic, I thought as he called her “Cheri” and was always saying “jet t’aime,” which means “I love you.” Roy just called me “Peggy.”
She brought one of her cousins, Simone, with her to see us once as she was visiting from France. She spoke and understood no English. Roy would try to talk to her, and she would always say “excuse-moi,” and then he would just talk louder so she could hear and understand. We had to tell him she was not deaf just not able to understand English.
We were at their house one summer, and she cooked a real French meal for us. It was leg of lamb and most delicious. When she served dessert, I was delighted to see it was some type of fruit in a thick dark sauce, and I loved cooked fruit. She only served us five of the prune fruit, and I thought she could have given us more. It was delectable, and I felt a little tipsy after I ate the dessert. She called it a most sophisticated name, Pruneaux ivres. After we were back home, I looked up this dish and found out that it actually meant “drunk prunes.” She had canned the prunes in Cognac. Well, they were still most appetizing, and they made you happy!
Drunk Prunes
Steep two heaping teaspoons of black tea leaves in 2 cups of boiling water and strain. Add ½ cup of brown sugar and bring to a boil. Pour over 1 pound of pitted prunes and set aside to cool for about 1 hour. Drain prunes reserving liquid. Whisk in 1 cup of Cognac into liquid. Put a split vanilla bean into each of two-pint jars along with half of the prunes and pour ½ cup of the Cognac mixture in each jar. Refrigerate prunes in jars in the refrigerator for up 2 months.
