I believe three.
Nikki. I never noticed.

"Take only photographs, leave only footprints."

No footprints on the cheese, please :-)))

I'm laughing so hard. Heck, I paid for the cheese and it was served on my darn dinner table in the USA. Ergo, my turf, American rules (aka "gorpful"). Tant pis!

I tipped myself 20%, too :)

As to the cheeses, I left fingerprints, footprints, and in the case of the last morsel (a very good Auvergne), I think an elbow print. My/our behavior was disgusting--and the cheese was SO wonderful.

In the words of that great philosopher, Edith Piaf...
"Je ne regrette rien". [Sound cue.]

[BTW--www.fromages.com be my life. I order from them all the time, even though I am also an American artisanal cheese--and beer--fanatic. Ordered one of their seasonal nine-cheese boards for this specific do. Local grocery store--a local chain--carries really wonderful whole-grain baguettes and organic walnuts, berries, I could use to go with this. Yes, we were in heaven.]

Yeah, in French restaurants, I choose three cheeses. If I am even offered three or more cheeses.***.

At home? After forking over $$$ (converted from $$ Euros)for this nearly perfect overnighted order of nine, I'll be darned if I was going to eat a tiny morsel of just three. Nine be me. Heck, everyone but the nasty size 0 (not to be confused with our nice size 0)did all of them.

Just so you know, the nasty size 0 was certainly NOT sipping her wine, and I know for sure that is not "comme il faut" at breakfast, noon or at dinner in Paris.

More specifically, I presented bottles (large French group) of a lovely Sancerre, a quite good Burgundy, and a decent California sparkling. I think Madame Nasty may have downed one whole bottle of the Sancerre in under an hour, and she then started to chip away at the rest.

I did not call her on it. Besides, while she was drinking, she wasn't eating that much cheese. More for us.

Again, I think she has problems that have nothing to do with nationality.

The NICE size 0 sort of cried when I brought out the cheese board. Darling, darling woman. She has really missed home, even though she has taken advantage of all travel opportunities within the US, God Bless her. She has made the most of everything here, including friendships, and we're going to hate to see her go back.

***Speaking of cheese after dinner...My husband and I see fewer and fewer offerings anymore. One very lovely restaurant at our Thanksgiving stay offered NO cheese.

When we started going to Paris at the end of the 90s, a cheese selection was regularly brought out on a cart. Same restaurants now, no cart. Selection of three if we're lucky. Selection of two was our Thanksgiving stay norm.

We found one "old school" place--and we're not going to tell!

That was a funny story AlessandraZoe! Pretty hard to let good cheese go to waste.

DH and I have eaten twice at a great old school place in Paris with a fabulous cheeseboard.
The first time we had quite a funny waiter and we wondered why he was kind of lurking around watching DH with his cheeseboard. I don't remember how many cheeses, but more than three for sure and the last three were increasingly strong and smelly. (but absolutely delicious)

I think the waiter was convinced we wouldn't eat the smelly ones because as DH gobbled up the last morsels of the strongest and smelliest he came over and shook his hand.

Another footnote to discussions about conversational behaviour and greeting people. This one applies to differences between Americans and British, but could equally well (or even more so) apply to Franco-American differences:
http://separatedbyacommonlanguage.bl...-yourself.html

That settles it, I'm moving to a culture where my embarrassing inability to remember people's names will be much less of a disability.

The condom story reminds me of me explaining football to my French girlfriend. I was trying to say third down and ten yards (verges) to go. But I said "vierges".

Third down and ten virgins to go.

lol, Patrick, how true.

the bit about people saying "how are you?" or how y'doin'" as they run past reminded me of how I felt when we moved to Cornwall. It took me ages to realise that the standard greeting "allright?" [said with a slight upwards inflection] was not an enquiry after my health, but the cornish equivalent of Hello, to which the correct response is not "ok thanks, how are you?" but "allright" said with a falling inflection.

in fact you could have a whole conversation using this one word, were you so minded.

Nikki - whilst not wishing to perpetuate any racial stereotypes, my impression from mixing with americans is that they are generally much better than the british as remembering people's names. they are also much better at introducing people than we are [this may be related to the previous statement, as introducing someone whose name you don't know is pretty impossible without a high degree of embarrassment on both sides]. in fact my american GF is so good at this, she has introduced me to people i originally introduced to her!

there is what i take to be a peculiarly british dilemma when you met someone you know well, and can't remember their name, but know them too well to ask.

what do you do then?

"what do you do then?"

You pretend you are French.