Some experiments are fun. Others go horribly wrong. I can still picture my test subjects’ crestfallen faces when I revealed that « kchtépas » was actually « que je ne t’ai pas ». So I try to vary the dosage.

When my subjects complain a little too loudly, I tell them not to worry if it feels too hard. First of all, this is how French people actually talk. You’re better off suffering in a group in class, or alone at home in front of your screen, than during your next conversation in France. And the more you train on difficult material, the easier the gentler stuff will feel. It’s like at the gym: you increase the load to make the workout more intense, and that way you’re better prepared to face everyday life.

But nobody starts lifting with 100 kilos, not even in a mad scientist’s basement. If you’re a beginner, stick to simpler resources and treat mine as challenges. On Friday, in the podcast, I will prescribe a few resources for your level.

After a year of experiments on my guinea pigs, I know exactly what makes them scream the loudest when it comes to listening comprehension.

Welcome to the cemetery

You learned « Je ne sais pas ». You ask for directions in Paris and get « chépa ». Four syllables went in, two came out.

The French write using every letter but speak by omitting everything else. No one is trying to confuse you: people speak quickly, and anything that isn’t essential to the meaning ends up being omitted. The problem is that it’s often those very elements that you need.

The « ne » of negation: missing in action

This is the famous one. In everyday conversation, the ne gets dropped the vast majority of the time. It survives in writing, in speeches, when someone reads a text aloud. At the café, much less.

The negation hasn’t gone anywhere, though: it’s carried entirely by pas, plus, jamais, rien, personne. So the second half is the one to listen for.

Three traps my guinea pigs know well:

Ne… que. « J’ai que dix euros » means I only have ten euros. Without the ne, there’s no negative word left for your ear to catch. The whole meaning rests on that little que.

Ne… plus. « J’en veux plus. » If you don’t hear the S in plus, it’s I don’t want any more. If you do hear it (« pluss »), it’s I want more.

On n’a / on a. Out loud, « on n’a pas » and « on a pas » sound exactly the same, because of the liaison. Even French people forget the n’ when they write.

The silent « e »: the ghost

Linguists call it the schwa, or e caduc. I call it the ghost: you can see it on the page, but most of the time it never makes a sound.

In short words (je, me, te, se, le, de, ce, que, ne), it drops most of the time:

• Je te dis → J’te dis (I’m telling you).

• Tu me le donnes ? → Tu m’le donnes ? (Will you give it to me?)

• Je regarde le match → J’regarde le match (I’m watching the game)

• Pas de souci → Pas d’souci (No problem)

• Je me demande ce que tu fais → J’me d’mande c’que tu fais (I wonder what you’re doing)

Inside longer words too. That’s where it gets nasty, because the word changes shape:

Same thing in the future and conditional: je mangerai becomes « j’mang’rai », j’aimerais becomes « j’aim’rais ».

So why do some e’s hold out? Roughly speaking, French doesn’t like stacking three consonants in a row. That’s why samedi loses its e (« sam’di ») but vendredi keeps it: without the e, you’d get D, R and D back to back, and nobody says « vendr’di ». It’s more of a habit than a rule, but it explains why the ghost haunts some words and not others.

Quick geographical detour: in the South of France, that final e hangs on much better. Someone from Marseille will happily say « comme-eu ça » in three syllables. A Parisian will use about one and a half.

When « je » turns into « ch »

Once the e in je is gone, the J ends up stuck right against the next consonant. If that consonant is one you say without your vocal cords vibrating (S, P, T, F, K), the J loses its buzz too and turns into CH. Put your hand on your throat and say « ssss », then « zzzz »: only the second one vibrates.

Before a buzzing consonant (V, D, R, M…), the J keeps its buzz and stays a J: « j’vais », « j’regarde », « j’me lève ».

If you’ve ever looked up chuis in the dictionary, don’t worry: half my students have done the same.

The impersonal « il »: evaporated

When il doesn’t refer to anyone (the il in il y a, il faut, il pleut), it simply vanishes. The sentence starts straight with the verb, which makes some people think they’re hearing an imperative.

« Il n’y a pas de pain » turning into « Y a pas d’pain » is three disappearances at once: the il, the n’, and the de losing its e.

« Tu » loses its U

Before a vowel, tu shrinks down to a T.

• Tu es où ? → T’es où ? (Where are you?)

• Tu as vu ? → T’as vu ? (Did you see?)

• Tu avais raison. → T’avais raison. (You were right.)

• Tu aimes ça ? → T’aimes ça ? (Do you like that?)

It even happens before a consonant in a few set phrases: tu sais (you know) becomes « t’sais ».

Watch out for « t’as », which sounds exactly like ta (the possessive). « T’as vu ta tête ? » (Have you seen your face?) is a perfectly correct spoken sentence. And a mildly insulting one.

Word endings that crumble

When a word ends in a consonant followed by R or L (quatre, autre, possible), the R or L often drops, especially when the next word starts with a consonant.

• quatre personnes → quat’ personnes (four people)

• autre chose → aut’ chose (something else)

• notre voiture, votre maison → not’ voiture, vot’ maison (our car, your house)

• Je vais le mettre là → J’vais l’mett’ là (I’ll put it there)

You’ll notice that last sentence already stacks up three disappearances. We’ll come back to that.

Words that melt in the sun

Some very common words have been used so much that they’ve worn down, like an old stair step.

• parce que → pasque (because)

• puis → pis, as in « et pis après… » (and then)

• quelque chose → quèque chose (something)

• peut-être → p’t-être, or even p’têt (maybe)

• monsieur → m’sieur (sir)

• bien → ben, as in « eh ben »

Night of the living dead: when it all comes together

None of these things happens on its own. In a real sentence, they pile up. Let’s take a very innocent one:

« Je ne sais pas ce que tu veux. » (I don’t know what you want.)

1. Drop the ne: Je sais pas ce que tu veux. Variante possible : Je n’sais pas ce que tu veux.

2. Drop the e‘s: J’sais pas c’que tu veux.

3. J before S becomes CH: Chais pas c’que tu veux.

What actually reaches your ear: « chépaskeutuveu ». One mushy blob, delivered in a second. This is everyday French, by the way, the kind your bank advisor speaks outside office hours.

A few more for practice:

My mad-scientist tip

Don’t try to memorize these forms so you can use them yourself. The goal is to recognize them. Your written French should stay clean (your emails, your messages to your Airbnb host). Your ear, on the other hand, needs to know that « chépa » and « je ne sais pas » are the same animal.

The method that works for my students: Take a short clip (thirty seconds, one minute), listen to it several times without subtitles, and then try to reconstruct the entire written sentence. At first, you’ll only catch bits and pieces. That’s normal. After a few weeks, the “y a,” “chuis,” and “faut” will start jumping out at you on their own.

So what do we practice with?

That’s for Friday. In this week’s podcast, I’ll give you my recommendations level by level, from beginners who need French people who actually articulate, all the way to advanced learners ready to take on « kchtépas » at full speed. The podcast is for paid subscribers.

Paid subscribers can also download the full cheat sheet: all ten families of vanishing sounds, on two printable pages.

Download the cheat sheet:

Until your next conversation in France, keep training your ears. And may your « ne » rest in peace.

Adieu,

Timo

Chez le père Lathuille, Édouard Manet, 1879

My original plan was to go through the scene together, line by line, and pick out the interesting bits. But it turned out to be pretty hard to pull off, and a bit borderline copyright-wise. So here’s what I suggest instead: first, watch the scene again, but this time with proper subtitles I made myself. Yes, I’m a nice guy. YouTube is being nice too, since it’s letting me post the video with no restrictions. Let’s hope it lasts.

Then listen to the podcast, where I go back over some expressions you can reuse in your own conversations. There will inevitably be things I don’t cover, so feel free to ask me questions in the comments. I’ll be happy to answer.

And if you enjoyed the scene, go watch the whole film. It’s available on France Channel, on Prime in the US (double-check before you subscribe), and to rent on the usual video-on-demand platforms. In French it’s called Mon inconnue, and in English Love at Second Sight.

English Transcription Available at the end of the Post

Salut à tous, bienvenue dans cet épisode ! Aujourd’hui, une seule question : qu’est-ce qui fait qu’une conversation entre deux Français sonne vraiment… française ?

La scène

Petit rappel. Mon inconnue, c’est une comédie romantique d’Hugo Gélin, sortie en 2019, avec François Civil et Joséphine Japy, notamment.

Dans l’extrait, Raphaël et Olivia ont passé la soirée ensemble et ils ont un peu bu. Beaucoup, même ! L’un parle de deux ou trois verres, l’autre corrige, deux ou trois bouteilles. Et à un moment, la conversation prend un tour inattendu.

Je ne vous en dis pas plus. Si vous avez fait vos devoirs, vous savez déjà. Sinon, regardez l’extrait avant d’aller plus loin, ce serait dommage de vous gâcher la surprise.

Pourquoi ça sonne si naturel

D’abord, personne ne finit ses phrases. On commence, on s’arrête, on repart. On répète aussi beaucoup : « Ouais, ouais », « Non, non, non ». Dans un manuel, ce serait une faute. Dans la vraie vie, c’est comme ça qu’on parle.

Read more

Taken on their own, they mean almost nothing, which is why no one bothers to teach them. But they’re very useful. They buy you time, soften a “no,” change the subject, and roll their eyes for you. Here are ten you’ll hear every day in France. Put them in your sentences and you will start to sound like a native.

David Bailey wondering whether he’ll ever be able to speak French like Catherine Deneuve.

Les petits mots

1. Du coup

Links one idea to the next, or simply starts a sentence.

Du coup, on fait quoi ce soir ? (So, what are we doing tonight?)

It’s fine among friends, but it’s a bit much in a cover letter. Some French people are fed up with it, though that hasn’t stopped anyone.

2. En fait

Used to clarify, correct, or just get a sentence going.

En fait, c’est plus simple que ça. (Actually, it’s simpler than that.)

Keep it away from en effet, which means “indeed” and agrees with what was just said. En fait usually corrects it.

3. Genre

Approximates or softens what you say.

Il y avait genre cinquante personnes. (There were like fifty people.)

On its own with an eye-roll, Genre ! means “yeah, right”.

4. Bref

Long story short. Sums things up or moves the conversation on.

Bref, ça s’est bien passé. (Anyway, it went well.)

5. Bah

Often used when the answer feels obvious.

Bah oui. (Well, yes. Obviously.)

Careful with a long, sighed bah…, though. It sounds like you couldn’t care less.

6. Ben

Used to hesitate or start an answer.

Ben, je sais pas. (Well, I don’t know.)

Learn Eh ben ! too, the French “Well, well!”

7. Quoi

At the end of a sentence, it wraps up the idea. It isn’t a question, so the voice goes down.

C’était bien, quoi. (It was good, you know.)

The voice goes down. If it goes up, you’re asking “what?”

8. Voilà

Concludes an explanation or agrees with someone.

Voilà, c’est tout. (There you go, that’s all.)

You’ll hear it constantly once you start listening for it.

9. Enfin

Corrects or nuances what you just said.

Il est grand… enfin, plus grand que moi. (He’s tall… I mean, taller than me.)

Said sharply, Enfin ! means “Oh, come on!”

10. Carrément

As an answer, it’s an enthusiastic “totally”.

« Un apéro samedi ? »

— « Carrément ! »

In a sentence, it adds an element of surprise, often an indignant one.

Il m’a carrément raccroché au nez. (He actually hung up on me.)

Your homework this week

A four-minute clip from the film Mon inconnue (Hugo Gélin, 2019). Raphaël wakes up in a parallel world where Olivia, the love of his life, has never met him. In this clip, he decides to tell her the truth. If you’d like to watch the entire film, it appears to be available on France Channel.

Seven of the ten words above appear in the scene. Your task is to spot them.

1. Watch the scene once, focusing simply on the story. Pay attention to the expressions, the tone, and who is leading the conversation.

2. Watch it again and go on the hunt. Write down every single word you spot and the exact moment it appears. Bonus: there’s one little word I didn’t mention that keeps popping up in the conversation. Which one? The answer is in this week’s podcast.

3. Go back to the parts that went by too fast and replay them several times. It’ll become clearer than you think.

4. Pick a line you like and say it out loud along with the actors, at the same pace and with the same intonation, until you feel a little silly. That’s when it starts to sink in.

Bonus: Tell me in the comments which three words are missing.

Coming up

In the next podcast, Mon inconnue : les petits mots qui font la scène, we’re doing a special exercise. We watch the clip together, each on our own screen: you press play, I tell you when to pause. At each pause, I explain what they’re really saying, why it sounds so natural, and which words and expressions you can steal for your own conversations. There’s a quiz at the end. This podcast is for paid subscribers only.

Not a paid subscriber yet? You can upgrade your subscription here:

Subscribe now

Bref, go do your homework.

Bonne semaine !

Timo

Bring your answers to L’Atelier on Wednesday 28 October: it’s a live debate. Link in the subscriber chat.

Subscribe now

Hubert Robert, Imaginary View of the Grande Galerie in the Louvre in Ruins. 1796.

The English Translation is available at the end of the post

Salut chers abonné(e)s,

Comme beaucoup d’entre vous, j’ai été choqué devant mon écran. La mairie de Limoges en flammes. Des magasins pillés sous les yeux de commerçants impuissants. Des affrontements entre policiers et manifestants. Ces images, les vraies comme celles générées par l’IA, ont fait le tour du monde.

Sur le coup, j’étais en colère. J’ai eu des mots très durs contre les pilleurs et les casseurs. Puis, une fois la colère et la tristesse retombées, j’ai commencé à réfléchir…

C’est l’avantage du podcast : il faut l’écrire, et l’écriture oblige à prendre du recul et à se documenter.

Alors bienvenue dans cet épisode un peu particulier. Et plutôt que de consacrer tout l’épisode à mon avis personnel, j’ai choisi à la place de soulever plusieurs questions. L’idée, c’est de vous donner du grain à moudre pour le débat de mercredi.

Ce qui s’est passé

Le 17 octobre, environ 550 000 personnes ont manifesté contre la vie chère, rejointes par les lycéens, les gilets jaunes et les agriculteurs. Puis la journée a dérapé : au moins 3 000 commerces touchés dans toute la France, des mairies attaquées, plus de 2 300 gardes à vue sur le week-end. À Paris, un manifestant est mort, probablement d’un malaise cardiaque.

Read more

I had something very different planned for this week, but after what happened over the weekend, and with my students asking me about it, I’ve decided to move the week’s theme (a short clip from a romantic movie) to next week. Impossible de faire l’autruche ! (Literally “to do the ostrich”: to bury your head in the sand.) So here’s the new plan:

Today, we’ll go through the most important vocabulary and the sentence structures you need to give your opinion. On Friday, I’ll share the podcast where I give my opinion on what’s going on in France right now, and on Wednesday 28 October, the workshop will be a debate where you can talk about it and ask your questions.

Friday’s podcast and the workshop on 28 October are reserved for paid subscribers. If you’d like to join us, you can upgrade here:

Subscribe now

Que s’est-il passé ?

On Saturday, October 17, approximately 550,000 people marched across France, according to the Ministry of the Interior (organizers always report higher numbers, it’s a tradition). The call to protest was intended to denounce the high cost of living, particularly fuel prices, and ultimately brought together a wide variety of discontented groups in the same streets: high school students who have been occupying their schools for a month to protest their educational conditions, the return of the “yellow vests,” as well as farmers, firefighters, healthcare workers, and climate activists.

In the evening, and again on Sunday, the situation escalated in several cities. Stores were looted in Marseille and Paris, the Lyon tourist office was set on fire, the Limoges city hall caught fire, and clashes lasted several hours near Place de la République in Paris. A protester died Saturday in Paris after collapsing near the march, likely as a result of a heart attack, and an investigation has been launched. More than 2,300 people were arrested over the weekend; Emmanuel Macron addressed the nation Sunday evening; and on Monday, several cities announced the imposition of a curfew.

In this article, I’m remaining neutral. On Friday, I won’t be.

France, 2023. Photo de vegonaise sur Unsplash

Le vocabulaire essentiel

Le mouvement

• la vie chère (f) : the high cost of living. Literally “the expensive life”. It’s the slogan of the whole movement: on manifeste contre la vie chère.

• le pouvoir d’achat (m) : purchasing power. Turn on French TV for ten minutes and someone will say it. Le pouvoir d’achat des Français baisse.

• la hausse (des prix, des carburants) : the rise (in prices, in fuel). The opposite is la baisse. Le carburant is the general word for fuel; at the pump you choose between l’essence (sans-plomb) and le gazole (diesel).

• faire le plein : to fill up the tank. Faire le plein coûte une fortune.

• manifester / une manifestation / une manif : to protest / a demonstration. In this context manifester has nothing to do with “to manifest”. In conversation everybody says la manif: Tu vas à la manif samedi ?

• un manifestant, une manifestante : a protester.

• se mobiliser / une mobilisation : to mobilise / a mobilisation. French media call a protest day une journée de mobilisation. It sounds a bit military, but it’s completely normal.

• les revendications (f) : the demands of a movement. Quelles sont leurs revendications ?

• la grève / faire grève : a strike / to go on strike. A manif and a grève are two different things: you can march on a Saturday without being on strike. The unions have called a strike day for 5 November.

• les lycéens : high-school students (15 to 18). Classic mistake: les étudiants are at university, les lycéens are at the lycée.

• un blocus : a school blockade. Students pile up bins in front of the gate so nobody can get in. Mon lycée est bloqué depuis lundi.

• les gilets jaunes : the yellow vests, the 2018 movement that started on roundabouts, already over fuel prices. Some of them are back.

• la convergence des luttes : when different movements join forces. A very French idea, and the ultimate dream of every activist.

• battre le pavé : to take to the streets. Literally “to beat the cobblestones”. More colourful than manifester, and journalists love it.

Quand ça dégénère

• dégénérer / déraper : to get out of hand. La manif a dégénéré en fin de journée. You’ll also hear tourner au chaos.

• les débordements (m) : incidents, things spilling over. Literally “overflows”. It’s the polite word the media use for everything from a broken window to a burning car.

Read more

L’Atelier is on Wednesday 28 October at 7 pm French time. It’s included in your premium subscription, and you’ll find the link in the subscriber chat. Not a paid subscriber yet? The link to upgrade is just below.

Subscribe now

Carte de l’Amérique, ou du Nouveau Monde, par Theodor de Bry, 1596. Les quatre personnages représentés sont, dans le sens des aiguilles d’une montre en partant d’en haut à gauche, Christophe Colomb, Amerigo Vespucci, Francisco Pizarro et Fernand de Magellan.

English translation available at the end of the podcast

Bienvenue dans cet épisode où on part à la chasse aux mots français venus des langues amérindiennes. Des mots du quotidien, que vous utilisez sans y penser. Et surtout, on va apprendre à bien les prononcer.

Un peu de contexte. À la fin du XVe siècle, les Européens arrivent en Amérique. Ils découvrent des choses qu’ils n’ont jamais vues, et pour les nommer, ils font simple : ils empruntent les mots des peuples qui vivent là. Souvent, ces mots passent par l’espagnol ou le portugais avant d’arriver en français. D’autres viennent directement du Canada, avec les colons de la Nouvelle-France.

Dans la liste, il y a bien sûr énormément de plantes et d’animaux (la tomate, le maïs, l’avocat, le cacao, la cacahuète, le jaguar, le puma, le coyote, le caribou, le toucan…). Mais aujourd’hui, on laisse le marché et le zoo de côté. On s’intéresse aux objets.

Le hamac

On commence tranquillement, avec le hamac. Le mot vient du taïno, la langue des habitants des Caraïbes que Christophe Colomb rencontre en 1492.

Pour la prononciation, il y a deux pièges. Le « h » ne se prononce pas, mais c’est ce qu’on appelle un h aspiré. Donc pas d’élision : on dit le hamac, pas « l’hamac ». Et pas de liaison : un hamac. Ensuite, le c final, on l’entend bien. Répétez avec moi : un hamac. Le hamac.

Read more

I’m also sharing a PDF with all the vocabulary you need to talk about wine: the basics, the words to describe a glass, useful phrases and idioms, all translated into English.

Photo de Natalie sur Unsplash

English Translation is available at the end of the post. If you don’t drink wine, check my podcast Le sobrelier – Un nouveau métier en France (B1).

Salut à tous, bienvenue dans cet épisode !

Dans mon dernier article, je vous ai expliqué comment commander du vin en France comme un local. Aujourd’hui, on passe à la pratique : la prononciation. Et pour que ce soit le plus réaliste possible, j’ai pris une vraie carte des vins. Celle de La Scène Thélème, un restaurant franco-japonais à Paris, une étoile au guide Michelin. Je connais bien le chef sommelier qui y travaille et ils ont une très belle carte.

Ouvrez-la (click here) et suivez avec moi. Je la lis comme si j’étais à table, et je m’arrête sur les noms qui posent problème. Allez, on y va.

On commence par les bulles

Champagne, première page. Moussé et Fils. Attention au mot « fils » : on prononce le S, mais pas le L. « Fisse ». Vous le verrez sur beaucoup d’étiquettes : « et Fils », c’est une affaire de famille.

Read more

I have to be honest with you: I’m no wine expert. I couldn’t tell you if a wine has notes of wet stone or blackcurrant leaves. Describing wine isn’t my thing. Drinking it, on the other hand… If you really want to understand what’s in your glass, read Meg Maker. She’s an award-winning wine columnist, and her articles will make you want to open a bottle.

So today, no tasting notes. Just the phrases and unspoken rules you need to know to order wine in France the way the locals do, so the server can relax and you don’t end up with de la piquette in your glass.

« Du vin » means nothing

You’ve found a terrace, the sun is out, and the server is coming. In a French bar, nobody asks for “du vin”. The first thing you give is the colour. And most of the time, you drop the word vin completely.

✓ The basic order « Un verre de rouge, s’il vous plaît. » “A glass of red, please.”

✓ The apéro classic « Un petit blanc, s’il vous plaît. » “A glass of white, please.” Don’t worry about the petit: same glass, same price. French people put it in front of everything they’re fond of. Un petit café, un petit verre, un petit blanc… And when they say it, petit usually shrinks to p’tit.

✓ The summer terrace « Un rosé, s’il vous plaît. » Between June and September, half the terraces in the South are drinking this.

Apéro first: wine in disguise

Before dinner comes the apéro. And like with beer, we French couldn’t help ourselves. We mixed things.

• Le kir: white wine with crème de cassis (blackcurrant liqueur). Named after Félix Kir, a priest who was mayor of Dijon. Une idée pour un prochain podcast ?

• Le kir royal: the same, with champagne instead of white wine. The festive version.

• Le rosé pamplemousse: rosé with grapefruit syrup. Wine purists roll their eyes at it, which has never stopped anyone on a terrace in July.

• Le rosé piscine: rosé served over ice in a big glass. It was a bit of a joke at first, and now some producers sell bottles with piscine on the label.

But be careful which wine you use when mixing it:

Personally, j’ai un petit faible (I have a soft spot) for Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise as an aperitif, especially when it’s over 20 years old.

At the table: glass, jug or bottle?

Now you sit down for dinner, and the real question begins.

Un verre. Between 12 and 15 cl. If you stand at the counter of an old Parisian café, you might hear someone order un ballon de rouge. Le ballon is the round glass with a stem. It’s a bit old school, and I love it. « Qu’est-ce que vous avez au verre ? » “What do you have by the glass?”

Un pichet. The jug. This is usually the house wine, served in a small carafe. You order the size: un quart (25 cl) or un pichet de 50 (50 cl). Don’t ask for un demi here. You’ll get a beer. « On va prendre un pichet de rouge. » “We’ll take a jug of red.”

The waiter might ask: « En quart ou en 50 ? » "A quarter or a fifty?"

Un pot. Only in Lyon. Le pot lyonnais is a heavy little bottle of 46 cl, often filled with Beaujolais or Côtes-du-Rhône. Order one in a bouchon (a traditional Lyon restaurant) and you instantly gain ten points.

Une bouteille. For those looking for something serious. You’ll need to ask for the wine list. « Je peux voir la carte des vins ? » “Can I see the wine list?”

Ask for a place, not a grape

You open the wine list, and this is where a lot of English speakers get lost. In France, a wine label mostly tells you where the wine comes from, not which grape it’s made with. If you ask a waiter for “a merlot”, he’ll understand. But in most bistros, he’ll answer with the name of a region anyway.

A small cheat sheet to get you started:

• You like Pinot Noir? Ask for un bourgogne rouge.

• You like Chardonnay? Ask for un chablis or un bourgogne blanc.

• You like Sauvignon Blanc? Ask for un sancerre.

• You like light, fruity reds? Ask for un beaujolais.

• You want a reliable red that goes with everything? Un côtes-du-rhône.

It’s a simplification (wine people, please don’t insult me), but it works at any bistro counter in France.

Still lost? Ask.

✓ Asking for advice « Je cherche un rouge plutôt léger. Vous me conseillez quoi ? » “I’m looking for a fairly light red. What would you recommend?”

✓ With food « Qu’est-ce qui irait bien avec le magret ? » “What would go well with the duck breast?” Waiters love this question. You’re asking for their opinion, and in France that’s the fastest way to make a friend.

The bottle arrives

If you order a bottle in a restaurant, there’s a ritual. The waiter shows you the label, opens the bottle, and pours a small amount into the glass of whoever ordered.

You smell it, take a small sip, and nod.

« C’est parfait, merci. »

That’s it. The point of this little test is to check that the wine isn’t faulty. If it smells like wet cardboard or an old cellar, it’s probably corked:

« Je crois qu’il est bouchonné. » “I think it’s corked.”

In that case, they’ll bring you another bottle. If you just don’t like it, well. You chose it. C’est la vie.

And if the waiter lingers, waiting for a comment, here are four words that always work:

• rond: smooth and soft, with no sharp edges. « Il est rond, très agréable en bouche. » “It’s smooth, very pleasant in the mouth.”

• gourmand: fruity, soft and easy. The wine you want a second glass of. « Il est gourmand, on en reprendrait bien un verre. » “It’s delicious, I’d happily have another glass.”

• équilibré: balanced. Nothing sticks out. « Il est bien équilibré. » “It’s well balanced.”

• long en bouche: the taste stays after you swallow. Professionals even measure it in caudalies: one caudalie is one second. « Il est très long en bouche. » “It has a really long finish.”

And if you want to sound like someone who’s lived here for years, there’s one more word: gouleyant. It describes a wine that’s easy to drink, that slides down a bit too easily. « Il est gouleyant, ce petit rouge. » Say it at the table and watch the reaction.

In natural wine bars (very trendy in Paris right now), you’ll also hear people say a wine is glouglou. Same idea, but younger. It’s the sound of the wine going down.

A iconic scene from the movie L’aile ou la cuisse: « Le vin, c’est la terre. »

How to clink glasses without causing a scandal

Before the first sip, the French trinquent: they clink glasses. A few rules:

• Wait until everyone has a glass.

• Clink with each person, one by one. Unless the champagne is served in crystal flutes: clink those too hard and you’ll lose points with the hostess.

• Look them in the eyes. Every time. According to an old French superstition, if you don’t, you get seven years of bad sex. I’m not saying I believe it, but I’d rather not take any chances.

• Don’t cross arms with someone else who’s clinking. Also bad luck.

What do you say?

« Santé ! » Works everywhere, with everyone. « Allez, tchin tchin ! » is another classic. « À la vôtre ! » Literally “to yours” (your health). Polite, or for a group. « À la tienne ! » Same thing, with a friend.

And when you serve wine, serve the others before yourself. Filling your own glass first is the one wine mistake a French table will actually remember. And if you’re not the host, you shouldn’t even touch the bottle. Well, in theory, anyway.

If you mix colours

During a long French dinner, you’ll sometimes switch from one colour to the other. If you do, remember this old saying:

« Blanc sur rouge, rien ne bouge. Rouge sur blanc, tout fout le camp. » “White after red, nothing moves. Red after white, everything falls apart.”

Sur (on top of) here means “after”. The idea is that white wine after red is fine: your head stays steady. Red after white, and the evening (and you) goes downhill. Foutre le camp is very familiar French for “to clear off”, so tout fout le camp means everything goes to pieces.

Later, among friends: wine slang

Dinner is over, but the evening isn’t. At a friend’s place, wine rarely gets called vin.

Le pinard. The most famous slang word for wine. Any wine, usually nothing fancy. It became a legend in the trenches of the First World War, where French soldiers received their daily ration of pinard. « Il reste du pinard ? » “Is there any wine left?”

Une quille. Slang for a bottle. Opening one is ouvrir une quille. « Allez, on ouvre une quille ! » “Come on, let’s open a bottle!”

La piquette. Cheap, sour, bad wine. The word originally meant a drink made by adding water to what was left of the grapes after pressing, so you can imagine the quality. « C’est de la piquette. » “This is cheap plonk.”

Un canon. A glass of wine, in old-fashioned bistro slang. « On va boire un p’tit canon ? » “Shall we go have a glass?” Very friendly, a bit retro. That’s what Cowboy, un vieux de la vieille (an old-timer) and the star of the Beaujolais harvest, used to say.

On va boire un verre ou… prendre un pot au bar ? P’tit godet ou… ? (OSS 117)

Un pot and un godet are two more casual ways to say 'a drink'.

One last thing

On the third Thursday of November, bistros all over France display the same sign: « Le Beaujolais nouveau est arrivé ! » It’s the first wine of the year, made from grapes harvested just a few months earlier, in September. Wine experts never sing its praises, and I’ll readily admit that it’s far from being a great wine. But I still have a soft spot for it. Every glass takes me back to the days when I worked in the vineyards around Saint-Laurent-d’Oingt, in the hills of Beaujolais.

If you’re in France that week, go to the bistro, order un verre de beaujolais nouveau and look everyone in the eyes when you clink.

And now I’m curious: what’s the best (or worst) glass of wine you’ve had in France? Have you ever ordered something with total confidence and received something completely different? Tell me in the comments.

Leave a comment

À la vôtre.

Timo

Hey, I’m Timothée.

I write about the French language the way it’s actually lived: through cafés, music, awkward conversations, old expressions, cultural rituals, and all the small things textbooks usually forget.

If you enjoy learning French through stories, culture, music, and the hidden meaning behind words, you’ll probably enjoy the premium version of this newsletter.

Become a premium member and get access to full podcasts, translations, vocabulary notes, interactive exercises, and live workshops — all for about the price of a coffee each month.

Subscribe now

If you enjoyed this content but don’t feel like subscribing just yet, you can always buy me a coffee. It’ll motivate me to create more content like this!

Keep me caffeinated

Then I pressed play just to see what it was like, and I didn’t move until the end.

La fresque de Jeanne d’Arc peinte par Joseph Pinchon, le célèbre dessinateur de Bécassine, dans l’église de mon village.

English Translation is available at the end.

There’s a lot of vocabulary this week, and it’s a little more advanced. Feel free to read through the vocabulary list below the podcast before listening.

I decided to start this episode a little more slowly and gradually pick up the pace. Feel free to let me know what pace you prefer!

Leave a comment

Salut à tous, bienvenue sur mon podcast.

Petit aveu pour commencer. En ce moment, je prépare un podcast qui s’appellera « Les 10 meilleurs films français, selon la communauté cinéphile ». Sauf que sur les dix films de la liste, je me suis rendu compte que j’en avais vu… cinq. Donc j’ai plus de boulot que prévu.

Et finalement, c’est tant mieux, parce que le premier film que j’ai regardé mérite un podcast à lui tout seul. Le top 10, ce sera pour le mois prochain, promis.

Ce mois-ci, on parle d’un film très particulier : La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc.

Ça faisait des années qu’il était sur ma liste et que je le repoussais toujours à plus tard. Un film muet, en noir et blanc, sur un procès… pas vraiment le film qu’on lance un vendredi soir avec une pizza. Et puis, presque cent ans après sa sortie (oui oui, cent ans), je me suis décidé. Je pensais juste regarder le début, mais je me suis fait attraper, je l’ai vu d’une traite. Tant pis pour mes heures de sommeil.

Read more

Thank you for coming to the workshop yesterday, it was great to hear you all! And well done to everyone who dared to read the text for feedback. I know it’s not easy in front of a group.

If you missed it, no worries, the replay is here, and I deleted the feedback part, as promised. If you’re interested in watching the part with your feedback, just let me know.

Read more

And if you want to practise for real: L’Atelier on Wednesday, September 30th is all about the sounds of French, with exercises to preactice and, if you’d like, a bit of personal feedback on your pronunciation. Link in the subscribers chat.

Jean Marais et Jean Cocteau à Venise, 1947. Deux voix qui ont fait rêver la France… et vous n'avez pas besoin de sonner comme eux pour qu'on vous comprenne.

Salut à tous, bienvenue dans ce nouvel épisode !

Aujourd’hui, on parle de prononciation. C’est une des questions que mes élèves me posent le plus souvent : est-ce qu’on peut vraiment améliorer sa prononciation en français quand on a commencé à apprendre la langue adulte ? Ou est-ce que c’est trop tard ?

Et avant de commencer, je tiens à dire une chose. Nous, les Français, on est très mal placés pour vous juger. Quand un Français parle anglais, on l’entend à trois kilomètres. « Zis is ze problem. » Voilà. Donc pas de complexe.

D’abord, les mauvaises nouvelles

Quand on est bébé, on est capable d’entendre les sons de toutes les langues du monde. La chercheuse américaine Patricia Kuhl l’a montré : les tout-petits font la différence entre des sons qui n’existent même pas dans la langue de leurs parents. Et puis, avant leur premier anniversaire, le cerveau se spécialise. Il garde les sons dont il a besoin et il arrête de faire attention aux autres.

Pour apprendre sa langue maternelle, c’est parfait. Pour apprendre le français trente ans plus tard, c’est moins pratique.

Et le français a pas mal de sons que l’anglais n’a pas. Le « u » de « rue ». Les voyelles nasales : « an », « on », « in ». Le fameux R, qui se prononce au fond de la gorge. Pour une oreille anglophone, beaucoup de ces sons se ressemblent, alors le cerveau les range dans le même tiroir. Et quand on n’entend pas une différence, c’est très difficile de la prononcer.

Ajoutez à ça l’orthographe. En français, on écrit plein de lettres qu’on ne prononce pas. Prenez le mot « eaux » (waters en anglais), au pluriel. E-A-U-X. Quatre lettres, et un seul son : « o ». C’est dingue, je sais.

Et puis il y a le rythme. En anglais, certaines syllabes sont fortes, d’autres presque avalées. En français, les syllabes ont à peu près toutes le même poids, avec une petite accentuation à la fin du groupe de mots. Et on colle les mots les uns aux autres. « Il est arrivé » ne se dit pas en trois morceaux, ça fait « i-lé-ta-ri-vé ». Beaucoup d’apprenants ont un très bon niveau, et pourtant on entend tout de suite qu’ils sont anglophones. Souvent, c’est le rythme qui les trahit, plus que les sons.

Maintenant, le positif

À la fin des années 90, une équipe de chercheurs américains, avec Ann Bradlow, a travaillé avec des étudiants japonais qui avaient du mal avec le R et le L en anglais. Pendant quelques semaines, ces étudiants ont fait un entraînement d’écoute. Uniquement d’écoute. Ils entendaient des mots et devaient dire si c’était un R ou un L.

Ils ont fait des progrès à l’écoute, ça, c’était attendu. La surprise, c’est que leur prononciation s’est améliorée aussi, alors qu’ils ne l’avaient jamais travaillée ! Et quelques mois plus tard, les progrès étaient toujours là.

Moi qui suis guitariste, ça me parle beaucoup. Avant de jouer juste, il faut entendre juste. Si votre oreille ne sent pas qu’une corde est un peu fausse, vous pouvez jouer pendant des heures sans jamais corriger le problème.

Autre bonne nouvelle. Deux chercheurs canadiens, Murray Munro et Tracey Derwing, étudient l’accent depuis les années 90. Ils ont montré qu’on peut avoir un accent assez marqué et être parfaitement compris. Donc l’objectif réaliste, c’est un français qu’on comprend sans effort. Et si un jour on vous prend pour un Parisien, c’est super, mais c’est du bonus, c’est pas nécessaire.

Moi, je dis souvent à mes élèves que notre accent fait parti de notre personnalité, c’est pas dérangeant, tant qu’on arrive à être compris. Et d’ailleurs, même si je suis bilingue en espagnol et que je peux très bien imiter l’accent mexicain, je préfère garder mon accent et ma voix française car sinon j’ai l’impression d’avoir une double personnalité.

Concrètement, qu’est-ce qu’on peut faire ?

D’abord, entraînez votre oreille avec des paires de mots. « Tu » et « tout ». « Vin », « vent » et « vont ». « Le » et « les ». Demandez à un francophone (ou à l’IA) de dire un des mots au hasard, fermez les yeux et devinez. Au début, vous allez vous tromper souvent. C’est normal, c’est même le but.

Ensuite, travaillez le rythme. Prenez une phrase courte, « je voudrais un café », et tapez sur la table à chaque syllabe. Toutes au même tempo, et un tout petit peu plus long sur la dernière : « je-vou-drais-un-ca-FÉ ». Ça paraît bête mais ça marche très bien.

Troisième chose : le shadowing. J’en ai déjà parlé dans d’autre podcasts mais c’est vraiment quelque chose qui change la donne ! Vous prenez un extrait audio ou vidéo en français, un podcast, une série, et vous répétez en même temps que la personne, comme son ombre. Vous ne réfléchissez pas trop, vous copiez la musique de la phrase. C’est fatigant, mais c’est super efficace pour le rythme.

Et enfin, enregistrez-vous. Je sais, personne n’aime entendre sa propre voix. Mais votre téléphone est un excellent prof. Écoutez une phrase, répétez-la, enregistrez-vous et comparez. Vous allez entendre des choses que vous ne remarquez pas du tout quand vous parlez.

Et enfin (encore), le plus important : persévérez, et n’ayez pas peur du ridicule. Cette semaine, un de mes élèves, Patrick, m’a écrit. Pendant son voyage en France, dans les magasins, personne ne le comprenait. Et la fin de son message, c’était : « Je vais persévérer. » Bravo Patrick, c’est exactement ça. Tout le monde passe par là. Alors si on ne vous comprend pas, répétez, reformulez, riez-en. Comme on dit en français : le ridicule ne tue pas.

Alors ? Est-ce qu’on peut améliorer sa prononciation à l’âge adulte ? Oui, hein, clairement. Mais il faut commencer par les oreilles, et accepter que ça prenne un peu de temps.

L’Atelier du mercredi 30 septembre

Si vous voulez travailler tout ça avec moi, l’Atelier de ce mois-ci est consacré aux sons du français. C’est le mercredi 30 septembre, à 19h, heure française. On va faire des exercices pratiques ensemble, sur les sons qui posent le plus de problèmes aux anglophones. Et si vous le souhaitez, je vous ferai un petit retour personnalisé sur votre prononciation. Le lien est dans le chat des abonnés et je publierais le replay pour ceux qui ne peuvent pas se connecter.

La liste de vocabulaire et la traduction en anglais du podcast sont juste en dessous.

Bonne semaine, et rendez-vous le 30 septembre pour L’Atelier !

The registration link for the workshop is available in the Subscribers chat :

https://substack.com/chat/group/40c1b5f0-c557-46a8-89ad-779418a3b79d

Sources

Sarah Andrews Roehrich, Kuhl Constructs: How Babies Form Foundations for Language.

Bradlow, Pisoni, Akahane-Yamada & Tohkura (1997), Training Japanese listeners to identify English /r/ and /l/: IV. Some effects of perceptual learning on speech production.

Bradlow et al. (1999), Long-term retention of learning in perception and production.

Munro & Derwing (1995), Foreign Accent, Comprehensibility, and Intelligibility in the Speech of Second Language Learners.

Vocabulaire

• avoir des sueurs froides : to break into a cold sweat

• un gargarisme : a gargle

• être mal placé pour : to be in no position to

• on l’entend à trois kilomètres : you can hear it a mile off

• pas de complexe : no need to feel self-conscious

• un tout-petit : a toddler, a very young child

• le fond de la gorge : the back of the throat

• une oreille : an ear

• ranger dans le même tiroir : to put in the same drawer (to lump together)

• l’orthographe : spelling

• c’est dingue : it’s crazy

• avaler (une syllabe) : to swallow (a syllable)

• coller (les mots) : to glue (words) together

• trahir quelqu’un : to give someone away

• avoir du mal avec : to struggle with

• ça me parle : that resonates with me

• jouer juste / entendre juste : to play in tune / to have a good ear

• un accent marqué : a strong accent

• on vous prend pour : someone takes you for, mistakes you for

• se tromper : to get it wrong

• ça paraît bête : it sounds silly

• changer la donne : to be a game changer

• une ombre : a shadow

• persévérer : to keep at it, to persevere

• avoir peur du ridicule : to be afraid of looking silly

• passer par là : to go through the same thing

• reformuler : to rephrase

• le ridicule ne tue pas : looking silly never killed anyone

Bonus

And to finish, if you really want to sound like Jean Marais, here’s the perfect video to practise shadowing in formal French. If the video automatically switches to English, like it does for me, just select French in the video settings. Bon courage !

Vous avez d’autres astuces pour améliorer la prononciation ? N’hésitez pas à les partager en commentaire.

Leave a comment

À bientôt,

Timothée

English translation

Hi everyone, welcome to this new episode!

Today, we’re talking about pronunciation. It’s one of the questions my students ask me most often: can you really improve your pronunciation in French if you started learning the language as an adult? Or is it too late?

And before we start, I want to say one thing. We French are in no position to judge you. When a French person speaks English, you can hear it a mile off. “Zis is ze problem.” There you go. So no need to feel self-conscious.

First, the bad news

When we’re babies, we can hear the sounds of every language in the world. The American researcher Patricia Kuhl showed it: very young children can tell apart sounds that don’t even exist in their parents’ language. And then, before their first birthday, the brain specialises. It keeps the sounds it needs and stops paying attention to the others.

For learning your native language, that’s perfect. For learning French thirty years later, it’s less convenient.

And French has quite a few sounds that English doesn’t have. The “u” in “rue”. The nasal vowels: “an”, “on”, “in”. The famous R, pronounced at the back of the throat. To an English-speaking ear, many of these sounds are very similar, so the brain puts them in the same drawer. And when you can’t hear a difference, it’s very hard to pronounce it.

Add spelling to that. In French, we write loads of letters we don’t pronounce. Take the word “eaux” (waters), in the plural. E-A-U-X. Four letters, and just one sound: “o”. It’s crazy, I know.

And then there’s rhythm. In English, some syllables are strong and others are almost swallowed. In French, syllables all carry roughly the same weight, with a small stress at the end of each group of words. And we glue words together. “Il est arrivé” isn’t said in three pieces, it sounds like “i-lé-ta-ri-vé”. Many learners have a very good level, and yet you can tell right away that they’re English speakers. Often, it’s the rhythm that gives them away, more than the sounds.

Now, the positive side

In the late 90s, a team of American researchers including Ann Bradlow worked with Japanese students who struggled with R and L in English. For a few weeks, these students did listening training. Only listening. They heard words and had to say whether it was an R or an L.

They improved at listening, which was expected. The surprise was that their pronunciation improved too, even though they’d never worked on it! And a few months later, the progress was still there.

As a guitarist, this really resonates with me. Before you can play in tune, you have to hear in tune. If your ear can’t tell that a string is slightly off, you can play for hours without ever fixing the problem.

More good news. Two Canadian researchers, Murray Munro and Tracey Derwing, have been studying accent since the 90s. They showed that you can have a fairly strong accent and still be perfectly understood. So the realistic goal is French that people understand effortlessly. If one day someone takes you for a Parisian, that’s great, but it’s a bonus, it’s not necessary.

In practice, what can you do?

First, train your ear with pairs of words. “Tu” and “tout”. “Vin”, “vent” and “vont”. “Le” and “les”. Ask a French speaker (or AI) to say one of the words at random, close your eyes and guess. At first, you’ll get it wrong a lot. That’s normal, it’s actually the point.

Next, work on rhythm. Take a short sentence, “je voudrais un café”, and tap the table on each syllable. All at the same tempo, and a tiny bit longer on the last one: “je-vou-drais-un-ca-FÉ”. It sounds silly. It works very well.

Third thing: shadowing. I’ve already talked about it in other podcasts, but it really is a game changer! Take an audio clip in French, a podcast, a series, and repeat at the same time as the speaker, like their shadow. Don’t think too much, just copy the music of the sentence. It’s tiring, but it’s very effective for rhythm.

And then, record yourself. I know, nobody likes hearing their own voice. But your phone is an excellent teacher. Listen to a sentence, repeat it, record yourself and compare. You’ll hear things you don’t notice at all when you’re speaking.

And finally, the most important one: keep at it, and don’t be afraid of looking silly. This week, one of my students, Patrick, wrote to me. During his trip to France, nobody in the shops could understand him. And the end of his message was: “I’m going to keep at it.” Well done, Patrick, that’s exactly it. Everyone goes through this. So if people don’t understand you, repeat, rephrase, laugh about it. As we say in French: “le ridicule ne tue pas”, looking silly never killed anyone.

So? Can you improve your pronunciation as an adult? Yes, clearly. But you have to start with your ears, and accept that it takes a bit of time.

L’Atelier, Wednesday, September 30th

If you’d like to work on all this with me, this month’s Atelier is dedicated to the sounds of French. It’s on Wednesday, September 30th, at 7pm French time. We’ll do practical exercises together on the sounds that give English speakers the most trouble. And if you’d like, I’ll give you some personal feedback on your pronunciation. The link is in the subscriber chat, and I’ll send the replay to anyone who can’t make it live.

The vocabulary list and the English translation are right after the podcast.

Have a great weekend, everyone, and see you on September 30th for L’Atelier!

This week, I’m giving you a clip from La Flamme, a French series that parodies dating reality shows. You know the kind: one single person has to find the ideal man or woman in a group of candidates. If you’re American, the concept may ring a bell: La Flamme is adapted from the American show Burning Love, produced by Ben Stiller.

If you are on the Substack App and you click on 'Listen', you will get this crappy robotic voice since this is not a podcast.

The scene I picked is the one where the bachelor, Marc, introduces himself. You already know the actor: Jonathan Cohen. We saw him in another Spoken French episode, Bloqués – Les aventures de Serge le Mytho et Steve Jobs.

This time, no lies. Well, one small one, probably a subtle nod to Serge le Mytho. Marc introduces himself, talks about his job (he’s an airline pilot) and, most of all, shares his vision of love. For French learners, this is du pain bénit: a gift. It’s full of expressions and natural verbal tics you can reuse.

🎬 Watch it here:

How to work with this clip

1. Watch the whole video once, without pausing and without subtitles (the subtitles are bad anyway). Just try to understand the general idea.

2. Watch it again and try to decode exactly what he says. Use a pen and paper. On a computer, it’s easy: the arrow keys take you back a few seconds, and the space bar pauses the video. On a phone, it’s a bit more galère.

3. Use the vocabulary and expressions below to help you.

4. Paid subscribers: I’m sharing the full transcript in the subscriber chat, with notes on all the sounds that disappear when Marc speaks fast. Compare it with your own version.

Vocabulary and expressions

Un cœur à prendre
Literally, “a heart to take.” It describes someone single and available. This is how Marc presents himself to the audience. You’ll hear it in dating shows, in magazines, and from family members who want to know why you’re still single: Ton cousin, il est toujours un cœur à prendre ?

Read more

Same ten mistakes, whether you’re intermediate or advanced. The same ten that make people switch to English on you.

Salut à tous, bienvenue dans ce nouvel épisode !

Si vous avez déjà pris des cours avec moi, vous savez que je note tout. Que ce soit dans mes groupes de conversation ou en cours particulier, je remplis une fiche à chaque séance, pour chaque élève. Toutes les erreurs, toutes les corrections. Des centaines de phrases, toutes les semaines. Et ça, autant pour vous que pour moi, c’est une véritable mine d’or.

Alors je me suis dit que ce serait sympa d’analyser *l’ensemble d’un coup, pour voir ce qui en ressortait. Évidemment, j’ai utilisé l’IA, histoire d’avoir un résultat fiable au niveau des statistiques, et pas seulement basé sur mon ressenti. Et puis, je vous aime bien mais j’ai une vie aussi, donc je vais pas passer mes week-ends à analyser vos erreurs.

Et ça a confirmé ce que je pensais : ce sont presque toujours les dix mêmes erreurs qui reviennent. Et c’est ce type d’erreur-là qui casse votre confiance à l’oral, que vous soyez de niveau intermédiaire ou avancé. C’est le petit détail qui fait que votre interlocuteur francophone passera peut-être à l’anglais dans une conversation.

Ah. Et vous allez peut-être vous reconnaître. C’est le but !

1. Jouer à, jouer de

Première erreur, on commence doucement, avec le verbe jouer.

Sport ou jeu, c’est « jouer à ». Jouer au tennis, jouer aux cartes, jouer au foot. Musique, c’est « jouer de ». Jouer du piano, jouer de la guitare.

Read more

During the concerts, though, I noticed something. After more than 20 years of listening to the same songs, I couldn’t sing along. I didn’t know the lyrics. The reason is simple: as a guitarist, I always paid more attention to the instruments and the melody than to the words. And that’s a shame, because my English would be much better today if I had taken the time to read and learn them.

The same goes for French. A lot of learners look down on French music and don’t see it as a learning tool. That’s a mistake. When you learn French, you get access to a huge musical repertoire, and there’s so much variety that you will find artists you like. Guaranteed.

So, where do you start? I wrote a post about this a few months ago (A Beginner’s Guide to French Music), feel free to read it.

And today, I’m giving you 10 songs in different styles, with lyrics, to help you take the first step. But my real advice is this: explore, be curious, and build your own sing-along playlist. YouTube works well if you like the visual side. If you have a Spotify account, you can also create a playlist and see the lyrics directly in the app, on your computer, tablet or phone.

And if you’re interested in studying the lyrics more closely, check out a site like Genius. You’ll find explanations of the lyrics, and you can even add your own.

How to create your playlist

On YouTube

1. Search for the song with the word paroles (for example: La grenade Clara Luciani paroles). You’ll find lyric videos with the words on screen.

2. Under the video, click Save (on your phone, it can be hidden behind the three dots ⋮).

3. Choose New playlist, give it a name (Ma playlist sing-along, for example) and pick who can see it: public, unlisted or private.

4. Next time, click Save and tick your playlist.

A small warning: YouTube’s automatic subtitles are often wrong with songs. A lyric video is more reliable.

On Spotify

1. On your computer: click the + next to Your Library, then Playlist. On your phone: go to Your Library, tap +, then Playlist.

2. Give it a name.

3. To add a song: click or tap the three dots … next to the song, then Add to playlist.

4. To see the lyrics: open the song you’re playing. On your computer, click the microphone icon at the bottom of the screen. On your phone, scroll down under the player.

The lyrics scroll in real time with the music, like karaoke. Not every song has lyrics available, but most well-known songs do.

10 French songs to sing along to

I picked songs from different decades and different styles. I left out the usual suspects (you already know La Vie en rose). All of them have a chorus you can learn quickly.

1. Georges Brassens – Les Copains d’abord (1964) Style: chanson. Brassens wrote this song for the film Les Copains. It’s about friendship, told through the image of a small boat. His voice is calm, his pronunciation is very clear and the rhythm never rushes. The vocabulary is a bit old-fashioned in places, which is perfect for a first trip to Genius.

2. Jacques Dutronc – Et moi, et moi, et moi (1966) Style: 60s rock. Great for practicing big numbers. Dutronc lists millions of people around the world, and after each line comes the same question: et moi ? It’s ironic, it’s catchy, and the chorus is three words long. Hard to fail.

3. Téléphone – Un autre monde (1984) Style: French rock. My guitarist pick. Téléphone was one of the biggest rock bands in France, and this song is probably their most famous. If you’re going to a French wedding, this is the song you need to know.

4. Clara Luciani – La grenade (2018) Style: pop. Clara Luciani has a low voice and sings slowly, which makes every word easy to hear. The song talks about women’s strength, with a chorus built around one strong image. It’s short and repetitive: one of the easiest songs on this list.

5. MC Solaar – Caroline (1991) Style: rap. If French rap scares you, start here. MC Solaar raps slowly, with a very clear flow, and he loves wordplay. It’s a sad story about a lost love, with a lot of vocabulary about feelings. The perfect song to study line by line.

6. Louise Attaque – J’t’emmène au vent (1997) Style: folk rock. Look at the title: J’t’emmène instead of Je t’emmène. This is spoken French, the way people really talk. The tempo is fast, so start with the chorus, then add the verses one by one. A violin, an acoustic guitar, and a whole generation singing along.

7. Tryo – L’hymne de nos campagnes (1998) Style: acoustic reggae. Nature, ecology, the countryside. Tryo sings with acoustic guitars and a relaxed rhythm, so you have time to follow the lyrics. You’ll learn words about nature and a few political ideas along the way. A classic of French campfire songs.

8. Les Wampas – Manu Chao (2003) Style : punk My Warped Tour tribute. Les Wampas are a French punk band, and in this song the singer dreams of having the success (and the bank account) of the singer Manu Chao. It’s funny, a bit silly, and the chorus is easy to remember. You’ll also practice the conditional without noticing: si j’avais…

9. Bénabar – Le dîner (2005) Style: pop / chanson. A man really, really doesn’t want to go to a dinner party, and he tries every excuse possible. It’s a small everyday scene, full of spoken French and useful phrases for when you want to cancel plans. Very useful.

10. Juliette Armanet – Le dernier jour du disco (2021) Style: disco pop. To finish on the dance floor. Piano, disco rhythm and a big chorus made for singing (badly) in the kitchen. The lyrics are a bit more poetic, so this one is good once you feel more comfortable.

One last tip

Don’t try to learn a whole song in one day. Start with the chorus. Look up the words you don’t know, then sing along with the lyrics on screen. After a few days, try without them.

And if a song on this list doesn’t speak to you, skip it. The goal is to find the songs you’ll want to listen to again and again, because those are the ones you’ll end up knowing by heart.

That’s the whole point of a playlist: all the songs you liked, in one place, easy to come back to. Without it, you’ll watch a video once and it will disappear into the depths of the internet. And the key is repetition. Twenty minutes of singing along to the same songs every now and then will help you memorize vocabulary, expressions and typical phrases. You’ll be surprised how naturally they come out in a conversation.

C’est promis, la prochaine fois j’apprendrais les paroles avant un concert ! Je commence dès aujourd’hui avec Ocean Avenue.

À bientôt,

Timo

In the previous part, I spent three days doing ten metres to the toilet and back, on a bowl of white rice a day. Then came a Marseillais with foie gras, and a book that changed everything. This week : a zebu, a knife I didn’t want to hold, and a diagnosis.

La Bohémienne endormie, Henri Rousseau, 1897.

Bertrand, mon coordinateur, passa me prendre en 4x4.

Fidel avait mis deux heures en moto pour faire ce trajet. Moi, cinq heures à pied par les rizières, la première fois. Nous arrivâmes avant midi, assis confortablement à l’ombre. C’était comme découvrir un code de triche dans un jeu vidéo.

La climatisation tournait à fond. Dehors il faisait trente-cinq degrés et je pouvais poser la joue contre le verre froid. Trois mois que je n’avais pas eu froid.

La buée montait par le bas. De temps en temps, une goutte se détachait. Elle descendait de quelques centimètres, s’arrêtait, hésitait, restait accrochée à rien pendant un moment. Puis une autre arrivait par-dessus, plus lourde, et les emportait toutes les deux d’un coup jusqu’en bas, en ouvrant dans la buée une trace nette par laquelle on revoyait le paysage pendant deux secondes, avant que ça se referme.

Je regardai ça pendant une heure.

Read more

Let’s start with the 10 verbs.

If you are on the Substack App and you click on 'Listen', you will get this crappy robotic voice since this is not a podcast. I did record some sentences in French below.

I picked a photo of people playing cards with a glass of wine. Turns out my posts perform better when alcohol is involved.

10 essential verbs

1. jouer — to play

The obvious one, but worth a note: jouer à for games and sports (jouer aux cartes, jouer au foot), jouer de for instruments (jouer du piano). Mix them up and French people will still understand you, but you may get a funny look.

On joue à quoi ce soir ? → “What are we playing tonight?”

2. gagner — to win

This verb also means “to earn.” In French, winning and earning share the same word.

Gagner une partie (to win a game) / gagner sa vie (to earn a living).

3. perdre — to lose

Irregular in the present tense (je perds, tu perds, il perd), but you will survive. Beyond the game board: perdre du temps (to waste time), perdre patience (to lose patience).

J’ai perdu deux fois de suite, je suis nul(le) ! → “I lost twice in a row, I’m terrible at this!”

Tip: add “à chier” if you want to sound like the street — Je suis nul(le) à chier (a bit vulgar, but you will hear it a lot).

4. tricher — to cheat

If someone hides a card up their sleeve, il/elle triche and becomes un tricheur/une tricheuse. Also used for exams, taxes, and relationships. Let’s not judge; we’ve all cheated at one time or another.

5. piocher — to draw (a card, a tile, a domino)

Comes from une pioche, the draw pile. Literally, it’s a pickaxe. In everyday French, piocher dans means to dig into something, often money: piocher dans ses économies (to dip into your savings).

Tu dois piocher une carte si tu (ne) peux pas jouer. → “You have to draw a card if you can’t play.”

6. miser — to bet, to stake (money, chips...)

Beyond the table, miser sur quelqu’un/quelque chose means to bet on someone or something in the sense of believing in them.

Le gouvernement mise sur cette réforme. → “The government is banking on this reform.”

7. parier — to bet, to wager

Very close to miser, but parier is the one you will hear more often in everyday conversation, way beyond games:

Je parie qu’il va encore être en retard. → “I bet he’s going to be late again.”

8. bluffer — to bluff

Yes, it’s basically an English word with a French accent, coming from poker. Now it’s used for anyone pretending to be more confident, more competent, or richer than they actually are.

Il bluffe, il (n’)a jamais mis les pieds au Japon. → “He’s bluffing, he’s never set foot in Japan.”

9. lancer (le dé) — to roll (the die)

Lancer on its own just means “to throw” or “to launch” a ball, a rumor, a product, a business. The dice are just one very small example.

À toi de lancer le dé ! → “Your turn to roll the die!”

10. mélanger (les cartes) — to shuffle (the cards)

Literally “to mix.” And outside games, you will hear it all the time: mélanger les torchons et les serviettes (to mix things that shouldn’t be mixed, literally “dish towels and napkins”), or just tu mélanges tout (you’re mixing everything up / getting confused).

On mélange pas les torchons et les serviettes ! → We don’t mix dishcloths and napkins!

What it really means: don’t put different things (or people) in the same basket. Especially when one is seen as lower quality or lower class than the other. It’s often used about social class (”we don’t mix with ‘them’”), but also just about not mixing things that don’t belong together in general. My advice: use it only ironically if you don’t want to sound too snobbish.

S'abonner maintenant

Expressions that came from the game table

French has borrowed a lot of everyday expressions from cards and board games. Here are some of the best ones:

• Jouer cartes sur table — to lay your cards on the table, to be completely honest about your intentions.

• Jouer le jeu — to play along, to go along with something (even a rule or a situation you don’t love).

• Jouer franc jeu — to play fair, to be straightforward with someone.

• C’est de bonne guerre — “that’s a fair move”. It’s used when someone plays a smart, slightly ruthless, move.

• À qui le tour ? — “Whose turn is it?”. Used at the table, but also in a queue, a meeting, anywhere people are waiting for their turn.

• Passer son tour — to pass, to sit one out. Also used generally: Je passe mon tour can mean “I’ll skip this one,” about anything from a round of drinks to a conversation topic.

• Jouer un tour à quelqu’un — to play a trick on someone.

• Avoir plus d’un tour dans son sac — to have more than one trick up your sleeve.

• Jouer gros — to play for high stakes, to take a big risk.

• Tenter sa chance — to try your luck.

• Un coup de bluff — a bluff (the noun version, if you need it: c’était juste un coup de bluff).

Bonus: I always thought this next one was a real expression, but after digging around, I couldn't find it anywhere, so I guess it’s just a family thing. When someone asks whose turn it is, and it turns out to be theirs, we say: Toujours à l'âne qui braie, literally, "always to the donkey that brays." In other words: the one making all the noise (asking whose turn it is) turns out to be the one who should have known it was their own turn all along. Useful? I don’t know but you learned a new verb.

— C’est à qui de jouer ?

— Toujours à l’âne qui braie.

That’s it for the board games series. Next game night, you will have more to say than just “c’est à qui ?”

If you like the topic, check my premium Podcast #57 : Jeux de société et tour de Paris, version Monopoly and the Spoken French Episode on the short film Jeu de Société.

À plus !

Timo

Hey, I’m Timothée.

I write about the French language the way it’s actually lived: through cafés, music, awkward conversations, old expressions, cultural rituals, and all the small things textbooks usually forget.

If you enjoy learning French through stories, culture, music, and the hidden meaning behind words, you’ll probably enjoy the premium version of this newsletter.

Become a premium member and get access to full podcasts, translations, vocabulary notes, interactive exercises, and live workshops. All for about the price of a coffee each month.

S'abonner maintenant

Quelques jeux de ma ludothèque.

Et maintenant, place au podcast — English translation is available at the end of the article.

Salut à tous, bienvenue dans ce nouvel épisode !

Cette semaine, on va parler de quelque chose que j’adore : les jeux de société. Vous savez, les jeux qu’on sort le soir, en famille ou entre amis, autour d’une table.
Et il y a une bonne raison à ça. Si vous avez lu l’article Spoken French de cette semaine, vous avez regardé un court-métrage qui s’appelle Jeu de société. Et le jeu dans ce film, vous l’aurez reconnu : c’est le Monopoly.
Alors aujourd’hui, on va faire trois choses. D’abord, je vous parle un peu des jeux de société en France : les jeux qu’on aime, et les jeux qu’on a inventés ici. Et enfin, on va parler du Monopoly lui-même, avec une balade dans Paris à partir des rues du jeu.

C’est parti (mon kiki).

Les jeux de société en France

En France, les jeux de société, c’est une vraie tradition. Beaucoup de familles françaises ont un placard plein de boîtes de jeux à la maison.

Les jeux les plus joués ? Les grands classiques que vous connaissez déjà : le Monopoly, le UNO, le Trivial Pursuit, le Scrabble. Et puis les jeux de cartes traditionnels. Le plus joué, c’est sans doute la belote, un jeu à quatre joueurs en équipes de deux. C’est presque un sport national : on y joue en famille, entre collègues, même dans les cafés !

Plus récemment, la mode est aux jeux d’ambiance à rôles secrets. Le plus connu, c’est Les Loups-Garous de Thiercelieux : chacun reçoit un rôle secret et doit jouer son personnage, tandis que les loups-garous cherchent à éliminer les autres sans être découverts. Moi, ma première partie, c’était la nuit, dans les bois, autour d’un feu : une expérience inoubliable.

La France exporte énormément de jeux dans le monde entier. Les créateurs de jeux sont appelés des auteurs de jeux, et certains jeux français sont devenus célèbres à l’international, comme Dixit, 7 Wonders, Citadelles ou encore Mille Bornes.

Bref, ici, les jeux de société, ce n’est pas juste un passe-temps : c’est presque un art.

La vraie histoire du Monopoly

À l’origine, ce jeu n’a pas du tout été inventé pour célébrer le capitalisme. Au contraire !

En 1904, une Américaine du nom de Lizzie Magie invente un jeu qui s’appelle The Landlord’s Game — « le jeu du propriétaire ». Le but : expliquer, simplement, les dangers des monopoles et des propriétaires trop puissants. Un outil pédagogique donc contre le capitalisme.

Read more

Note : This is not a podcast. If you click on “Listen” in the Substack App, you will hear a robotic voice automatically generated by Substack.

Step 1 — Watch without subtitles

Turn the subtitles off. Watch only the first three minutes. Stop right when the father says “Allons-y”. The goal is simple: understand as much as you can just by listening, using tone and context.

Now, try to answer these questions before you continue. The answers are in the comments section. Rewatch the scene if necessary. Slow down to 0.95x in the YouTube settings of the video if it’s too fast.

1. Pourquoi Nicolas semble-t-il nerveux, juste avant leur arrivée ?

2. Qu’est-ce que Victoire lui dit-elle de cacher ?

3. Que dit le père à propos de ce que signifie cette place à table ?

4. Qui sont les différents membres de la famille que Nicolas rencontre, l’un après l’autre ?

5. Que se passe-t-il quand la grand-mère essaie de participer au jeu ?

6. Avec tes propres mots : quelle est l’ambiance générale dans cette maison, même avant que le jeu ne commence ?

Step 2 — The real spoken French in this scene

Now let’s slow down and look closely at what they’re actually saying. These first three minutes are full of the kind of French that textbooks usually skip.

First: nan, instead of non. You learned non in class. In real conversations, French people often say nan instead. It’s a bit more casual and more emphatic. You’ll hear it constantly in spoken French, but you’ll rarely see it written, except in text messages or film dialogue. Victoire uses it right away: “Nan... Il faut absolument que cette partie se passe bien !”

Then there’s du coup, which comes up again and again: “Mais du coup vous jouez toujours au même jeu ?” It technically means “so” or “as a result.” But in real speech, it often doesn’t add much real meaning. People just use it to connect one sentence to the next, almost like a verbal habit.

Also notice what happens to the word ne in negative sentences. Nicolas asks “J’ai que cinq cents ?”, not the “correct” written form “Je n’ai que cinq cents ?” In spoken French, the ne often disappears completely: Je sais pas. C’est pas grave. Y a pas de souci.

Two family words worth learning: Mémé and Tonton, the everyday versions of grand-mère (”grandmother”) and oncle (”uncle”). These are the words families actually use at home. Depending on the tone of voice, they can sound affectionate or a little mocking, like in this scene.

There’s also some nice slang about money: “C’est toi qui a piqué tous mes sous.” The normal word for “to steal” is voler. But piquer is the casual version, closer to “to swipe” or “to take without asking.” And les sous is an everyday word for money, like saying “cash” instead of the more formal l’argent.

C’est malsain is another useful phrase. It literally means “unhealthy,” but in French it’s used much more broadly, for anything that feels wrong, toxic, or unpleasant in a situation. And c’est marrant means “that’s funny” but usually in the sense of “huh, that’s strange or amusing,” not necessarily something that makes you laugh out loud. It’s softer, and much more common in daily speech than drôle.

One more thing worth noticing, because it’s very typical of spoken French: the way some sentences put the subject at the very end. “Je suis désolée, elle est un peu folle, ma grand-mère.” In English you’d say “my grandmother is a bit crazy.” Here, she says “she’s a bit crazy” first, and only adds “my grandmother” at the end, almost as an afterthought. Once you start noticing this pattern, you’ll hear it all the time in real French conversations.

One bonus detail, easy to miss: notice that everyone uses vous (the formal “you”) with Nicolas when he first arrives — “Content de vous rencontrer,” “Tenez ! Voilà votre pion.” This is the polite distance you’d expect when meeting your future in-laws for the first time. Pay attention later in the film to whether this ever changes to the informal tu.

There is a lot more! Ask any questions you may have in the comments section or in the paid subscriber chat!

Step 3 — Now watch the full film

You can turn the subtitles back on if you want. The film is about 20 minutes long in total, and it becomes quite intense once the game really gets going.

Going deeper: what is this film really about?

By the end, you’ve probably understood that this film isn’t really about a board game. A lot of viewers online read it as an allegory. Each character standing for something bigger than themselves.

Answer in the comment : Selon toi, qui (ou quoi) représente chaque personnage ? Penses-tu que ce film parle de politique, de société, de famille, ou d’autre chose ? Est-ce que la fin te semble plutôt pessimiste, ou plutôt pleine d’espoir ?

I’ll read every theory and I’ll give you the full answer in this week’s podcast episode about board games in France: why they matter here, and how playing one in French can actually help your learning.

We’ll also be talking about it at the next session of Le Cercle, my group discussion in French, next week. Come join us!

Bonne semaine,

Timo

Hey, I’m Timothée.

I write about the French language the way it’s actually lived: through cafés, music, awkward conversations, old expressions, cultural rituals, and all the small things textbooks usually forget.

If you enjoy learning French through stories, culture, music, and the hidden meaning behind words, you’ll probably enjoy the premium version of this newsletter.

Become a premium member and get access to full podcasts, translations, vocabulary notes, interactive exercises, and live workshops — all for about the price of a coffee each month.

Subscribe now

If you enjoyed this content but don’t feel like subscribing just yet, you can always buy me a coffee. It’ll motivate me to create more content like this!

Keep me caffeinated

English translation available at the end of the post

Salut et bienvenue à tous dans ce nouvel épisode de mon podcast !

Alors, ça sonne peut-être un peu mégalo — mégalomane — mais pour faire écho au dernier podcast et au workshop, l’atelier de cette semaine, qui portaient sur l’usage de l’Intelligence Artificielle (l’IA), j’ai décidé de relever le défi et de faire un épisode sous forme d’entretien, sans préparation, en me faisant interviewer par Monsieur le Chat (GPT, pas j’ai pété). Et rassurez vous, ce sera aussi une façon de clore le thème de l’IA, alors je me suis fait plaisir.

I was planning to put an AI-generated image here. A parody of a famous Michelangelo fresco, playing up the megalomaniac side of things. It made me laugh a lot, but I decided to keep it private. Instead, I’m sharing a picture of my favorite robot. Photo de Lyman Hansel Geronasur Unsplash

Pas de script ici, juste de l’improvisation, même si j’ai quand même cadré Monsieur le Chat parce qu’on ne peut pas non plus parler de n’importe quoi.

Voici donc mon prompt, le message envoyé à Monsieur le Chat :

On y va ? Je lance la machine ! Bonjour, M. le Chat, on peut commencer avec ta première question.

Monsieur le Chat : Qu’est-ce qui, à l’origine, t’a poussé à créer French with Timo ?

Timo : OK, bonne question et tu as aussi un bon accent en anglais, c’est appréciable. Pourquoi j’ai créé French with Timo ?

Read more

French with Timo has been around for two years now, and more than 5,000 of you are already receiving this newsletter.

C’est ouf !

Two years of podcasts, articles, verbs we never quite remember on the first try, and messages from you telling me that something finally clicked… or that it still hasn’t!

And now, we’re moving on to something new.

Everything you already have stays exactly the same: Free subscribers will keep getting what they always have, and Premium members will still have access to everything: the blog, podcasts, monthly workshop, and app.

1:1 coaching and Le Cercle conversation groups are still available too.

But for Season 3, I’m adding something new: L’Apéro Club

If you understand French but still hesitate when you speak, translate in your head, or feel like your French sounds a little too much like a textbook, this is for you.

You probably already understand more French than you’re able to use. That’s exactly what L’Apéro Club is for: relaxed live sessions where you actually get to speak, instead of just following along in your head.

And yes, come with your favourite drink. It’s called L’Apéro Club for a reason.

Why l’Apéro Club?

Actually, the idea came from a conversation with my good friend — mon pote — Florent last year, when I was in Paris.

I was about to teach a class, and we were having a drink at a bar together.

Florent looked at me and said:

« Pourquoi tu ne ferais pas simplement un cours à l’apéro ? Tu restes ici, au bar, et tu fais ton cours comme si c’était un apéro. »

Of course, I didn’t do it.

But later, I thought… « Et pourquoi pas ? »

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.

Because learning French doesn’t always have to feel like learning French.

Sometimes, the best conversations happen around a table, over a drink, when you forget you’re in a class and simply start talking.

So that’s basically where L’Apéro Club came from.

There will be three types of Apéro:

🍷 Apéro Grammaire, for the grammar that makes total sense on paper and somehow vanishes the second you open your mouth.

🍸 Apéro Spoken French, real French from videos and other material I’ll send you ahead of time.

🍹 Apéro Choc Culturel, the cultural stuff that surprises you, confuses you, or makes you laugh once someone finally explains it.

There's no textbook, no syllabus we're racing through. Just good conversations, topics that are actually interesting, and enough talking time that you walk away a little more confident than when you sat down.

Ça te dit un Apéro ?

I’m currently in the pre-launch phase, and L’Apéro Club will be launching this autumn.

For the first edition, I want to keep things small with a little group where everyone gets plenty of opportunities to speak, and where we can shape the experience together, including finding a schedule that works for the group.

If the idea sounds like something you’d enjoy, just reply to this email with “Apéro” or leave a comment below, and I’ll get back to you personally with more details.

Thanks for being here since the beginning, or since yesterday.

Either way, it counts.

À bientôt,

Timo

Hey, I’m Timothée.

I write about the French language the way it’s actually lived: through cafés, music, awkward conversations, old expressions, cultural rituals, and all the small things textbooks usually forget.

If you enjoy learning French through stories, culture, music, and the hidden meaning behind words, you’ll probably enjoy the premium version of this newsletter.

Become a premium member and get access to full podcasts, translations, vocabulary notes, interactive exercises, and live workshops — all for about the price of a coffee each month.

Subscribe now