Monday 21 July 2014

My French Life is a lighthearted look at, you guessed it, living in France.



BREAD HEAD

The bakers' (100 short yards from my door), is intent on staying open, in the face of enormous supermarket competition.  Yesterday, a man-sized blackboard, perched intrusively on the cobbled step just outside the entrance, announced the latest cunning offer:


3 cormillonnes achetées 1 offerte!




I slipped past, greeting my warmly dressed fellow customers, noting their various reactions to my shorts and tee-shirt, taking their scepticism of my suspect pronunciation on the chin, and prepared to ask for two of these crusty, grainy, wholesome baguettes.  How was it that I ended up coming out with four?  Outside the shop, having wished everyone a pleasant day, I wondered whether I had finally lost my marbles, and, more usefully, whether I had any butter in the house.

On the way back home, I re-enacted the conversation, deciding that the baker's wife, with her Alan Sugar eyes, was to blame for the bready bulge under my arm.  Never mind, I would freeze two and  bake them (inevitably to a crisp) when required, in the blast furnace that passes for my oven. Smoke rose alluringly in my worn-out imagination.

The baker is laughing - ha!  Sales are up - early retirement beckons.  

But what of his gullible, stodged-up customer?

Easy.  Next day, I send my husband, who is immune to special offers.  He comes back with the requisite number of baguettes, plus a selection of cakes and pastries.

Doh, and doughnuts! 







'Four baguettes!'

1 comment:

  1. Haha, the wily ways of the French boulanger :) Love it!

    ReplyDelete