Drunch, anyone? Slunch? Don’t know what I’m talking about? Me neither. But the newsletter for my Paris supermarket, Monoprix, thinks these are all the rage in the U.S.

The site gives recipes for mini hamburgers, carrot fries, cranberry-banana smoothies, and brownie/cookie parfaits. “No more depressing, gray Sunday afternoons,” I read on the site, looking out my window at the overcast skies that are as Parisian as poodles. If you want to “drunch” in Paris, a l’americaine, you can go to le Mini-Palais at the between-meals hour of 6 PM.

Want to immerse yourself in American culture? the site asks, leading us to a link of all things Yankee (from the French point of view): http://www.cuisineamericaine-cultureusa.com/

From there you can find out about: “The American Burger.” “Bagels: The Real Recipe for These New York Little Breads” (though how real can a bagel be that isn’t boiled?). “A Typical Day in an American School” (which explains, “although their subjects are somewhat similar to ours, their way of studying them is very different”). “How to Understand American Football and Play It in France.” And “The Ten Best Superbowl Commercials” (which I watched for the first time, thinking, that’s the culture we Americans are exporting? Advertisements of junk food?)

The (sometimes ambivalent, sometimes weird, sometimes earnest) love affair that the French have with America is funny to see from this side of the ocean. I feel like I’m watching my best friend dress for a date. She’s putting on a ridiculous get up, and I can’t stop her from making a fool of herself. But hey, I’m not the one she’s dating. Let’s hope at least they have enough of a sense of humor to make their rendez-vous a drunch.