Armistice Day in France: autumn soups and village apéros

I know that the British Royal family turns out on November 11 to lay a wreath for Armistice Day, but it is not a Bank Holiday. Not like here in France where it is taken so seriously that everyone gets the day off in order to enjoy free apéros in the village hall after the maire has led a ceremony at the war memorial. 

Obviously it is serious. War is serious. And remembering the fallen reminds us of the sacrifices made by previous generations and the values we should still strive to protect. 

But France being France there is also the question of what to serve with the apéros, and what to do with the rest of the Bank Holiday. 

Somehow, it always revolves around food and I do love the autumn treats I have discovered living here. 

One is pumpkin soup with chestnuts and bacon lurking at the bottom of each serving. I mentioned this to the postman, however, and he seemed less enamoured. Too boring, he said. His wife has a recipe involving coconut milk and curry powder. 

Very modern. The boulangère swears by fresh coriander however, and I personally like to sneak a great dollop of Greek yoghurt into my soupe à la courge.

Not that soup is served at the mairie. They usually stick to sandwiches, which is strange because for the rest of the year we only get nuts and crisps. 

But the talk inevitably turns to food. Those in the know are still collecting mushrooms. Making them into an omelette is popular, but at this time of the year I'm fixated on soup and even if you only have half a cèpe it will easily make soup for four. Autumn is definitely soup-time for me.

I am not alone. I see soup flying off the shelves of the local InterMarché, which is kind of weird. Why would anyone pay €3 for a carton of soup when it is so easy to make at home? 

I mean you don't have to peel anything or even chop it very much. You can use anything you like, including those frozen tomatoes left over from the glut in August. 

Then, once it is all boiled, you get going with a hand-blender and woo-hoo.

Sometimes I get asked about British soup. My neighbour is very keen on trying new recipes and often asks about le poo-ding and le crum-bleu, and I do try to come up with ideas for her to try out on her family. 

But with soup I was initially stumped. I used to think there was no difference but then I started thinking about it and came up with two soups for my neighbour to try. 

The first is cock-a-leekie, which she loved because of the name, and the second is mulligatawny.

She loved the idea of chicken curry soup and tells me she now makes it all the time. Meanwhile I am still addicted to soupe à la courge. Cultural exchange at its best.