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there, he had sympathized with it and participated as an adviser.  The ever-curious Francophile Jefferson had also acquired numerous food items, sometimes sneaked out of France and into America inside diplomatic pouches.  In 1786, after a side trip to Milan, he returned with a small sack of Arborio rice, which he later attempted to grow on his Monticello plantation.  He is also credited with serving French fries and ice cream at his dining table in Monticello, inspiring countless billions of servings since. 
    The equally curious and Francophile Ben Franklin also spent time as a diplomat in Paris, taking particular interest in Antoine Parmentier’s life-long effort to popularize potatoes. An economist, pharmacist and agronomist, Parmentier (1737-1817) had been taken prisoner in 1761 by the Hanoverian (Prussian) army during the Seven Years’ War. During his year in prison he subsisted solely on potatoes, a food that had been introduced from the new World in the early 16 th-century, but like corn, was considered fit only for livestock. Having discovered its nutritional value while imprisoned, Parmentier embarked upon a personal campaign to share the news. At a Versailles birthday reception for Louis XVI, on August 25, 1785, he presented a bouquet of purple potato flowers to the king.  The king slipped one flower into a button hole, held out another to Parmentier, and gave several to Marie-Antoinette to pin onto her corsage.  The next morning everyone at court sported a potato flower in their buttonholes. 
    Parmentier later hosted a dinner at his home, offering a menu composed solely of twenty different potato dishes.  Franklin was a guest at that dinner, and may well have been the man who suggested to Parmentier that he try growing potatoes himself.  Parmentier planted his first crop in the open country around his home town of Sablons, hiring four retired soldiers from the imperial guard to watch over the field during the day.  In the evening, the field was left unguarded, which piqued the curiosity of the local residents.  They then slipped in after nightfall and stole potatoes for their own consumption – which was exactly what Parmentier had wanted them to do.
    Meanwhile, back at home, the combined prestige of Jefferson and Franklin served to provoke early American culture with a craze for Francophile imports.  And from this early mystique, fueled by French cultural arrogance, we arrived two centuries later at a place where anyone speaking with a French accent and claiming to create French food would be embraced – no matter what their level of, or total lack of competence.
    Of course there’s more involved than a dim-witted mystique.  We have a long and rich history of interaction with the French people and their culture, much of it mutually supportive and reciprocal.  This interplay can be seen in our language, which borrows many words from the French – a body of terminology I call Franglais. Consider: bain marie, baguette, béarnaise, bistro, bouillabaisse, café, châteaubriande, chef, commis, cuisine, eau de vie, éclair, farce, filet mignon, ganache, gardemanger, Madeleine, madrilène,pâté, poivre, quenelle, quiche, ragoût, ramekin, restaurant, saucier, sauté, soufflé, sous chef, tagine, tart, tartelette, terrine, toque, and so on.  Many of these terms have been adopted into our American vernacular, and they add a… je ne sais quoi … to our cultural heritage.
    I have long struggled to find a balance between the lyrical beauty of French menu terminology and the proper usage of my native tongue.  There is an undeniable beauty and glamour about the French language that makes the very food I prepare all the more savory.  After Bouillabaisse , Fish Stew will never do; after Poulet Rôti , Roast Chicken is just too pedestrian; after Pâté de faisan Périgordine , Pheasant-loaf with Truffle Gravy will never suffice.  Digestive juices, after all, simply do not flow particularly well at the