Lost in Translation

I have always maintained that food sounds much better in French than in English. I‘d much rather eat a Croque Monsieur than a grilled cheese or pain doré instead of French toast. Pomme de terre sounds much more substantial than potato whereas graisse de rôtis becomes a healthier spread than lard drippings. But my favorite hands-down, is that little amuse-bouche made from left over pastry dough and preserves. Who could turn down a pet de sœur, fresh and hot from the oven, the sugary fruit filling still bubbly? But show me the cretin who would eat a nun’s fart.