My sister also studied French and German at university and part of her year abroad was spent in the beautiful South of France in Avignon. She lived at a lovely new residence that had just been built and went to France with 6 other English university friends.

During her stay, they became friends with a group of French male students also living in their building. They used to go to the pub and play darts each week with the boys.

One Christmas, before my sister and her friends went back to the UK for Christmas, they decided to have a traditional Christmas dinner. Each person used their own kitchen to make part of the dinner. Veg in one kitchen, meat in another, potatoes in another, stuffing in another and so on! They set the table in one of their apartments and brought all the food together, All seven of them sat down, eager to commence their hearty, festive meal. This involved a good few hours of solid eating, something they all excelled in! By the end of it, every single one of them was completely stuffed and, as you can probably imagine, feeling slightly unwell and in need of a lie down.

As they finally finished their Christmas lunch (a bit later than planned), they had a knock on the door. Their French friend excitedly announced that the “bouffe” was ready (now, just to clarify, my sister’s friends had all understood that “bouffe” meant a buffet, you know, lots of nibbles that they could help themselves to, in other words, nothing too grand or filling).

Unfortunately for them, it had slipped their mind that they had arranged to go for a bouffe later that same day. So, feeling a tad embarrassed, not to mention, very tired and nauseous from all the food they had consumed, they hurried upstairs.

Upon entering the French man’s room, they were greeted with a long row of tables, all neatly laid with plates, knives and forks and glasses. It looked formal. Very formal. Then out came the “bouffe”. A look of horror appeared on their faces. Another full-blown meal. As they sat down to a scene out of the Vicar of Dibley, it dawned on them all that being invited to a “bouffe” was not a buffet. 

Moral of the story – never assume anything! And, get a good dictionary!

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, “bouffe” is just an informal word for “food!”.