I have a love affair with currants—the tiny fruits that look more like semi-precious stones than something you would eat.
It all began during a few weeks I spent in France in the summer of 1993. I was there to learn French, even though my English was still very questionable at that point.
One weekend, my French host mother, Catherine, announced our plans.
“Nous allons cueillir des groseilles aujourd’hui et en faire de la gelée. Allons-y!”
I barely understood what she had said. I knew enough to gather that we were going somewhere to do...something. So I climbed into her little car, and we ended up in the French countryside, in her friend’s backyard lined with currant bushes, heavy with clusters of edible jewels.
“Ahhh... les groseilles!” I exclaimed after consulting both of my dictionaries—French to English and English to Thai.
