Tomorrow, I’ll be going to Damariscotta to a gathering of Franco-American artists. There will be at least 40 of us, a reflection of the large population of Franco-Americans that came from Canada to settle in New England and beyond.

I will be reading several posts from A Good Eater, two that touch on some aspect of being Franco-American and one that is a tribute to my mother, who didn’t speak English until she was 5. I’ll be making a double batch of my mother’s legendary ginger snaps to share, and I will also be bringing copies of her recipe.

The title of this blog comes from my mother and her appreciation of someone who was “a good eater.” My mother loved to feed people, and one of the most insulting things you could do was not be a good eater at her table. To her, it felt like a slap in the face if you halfheartedly picked at the food she cooked. Conversely, nothing made her happier than to cook for someone who ate with gusto.  If you asked for seconds, well, then you had won her heart. We associate this obsession with feeding people to certain ethnic groups, and Franco-Americans mothers can take their place beside Jewish, Italian, and Chinese mothers who like nothing better than having good eaters at their tables.

I would not call A Good Eater a Franco-American blog. Instead, it is a blog written by a Franco-American. In other words, being Franco-American is the place where I start rather than my destination. Yet, part of what I want to do with this blog is to show how a life lived close to home, a life that revolves around food, family, and friends, is a rich and rewarding life. “Livin’ the good life,” as Ida LeClair (aka Susan Poulin) might say. And if that isn’t Franco-American, then I don’t know what is.