If Terence Conran could sell French country style to the English in the 20th century, why shouldn't I sell English patisserie to the French in the 21st century?
If only it were that easy. I hadn't reckoned on French bureaucracy, weather and good old xenophobia. But hey, life on the traditional French markets is full of surprises so I thought I should share them with the wider world.
After 20 years living in the centre of uber style-conscious London, I shipped out to live in the rural bliss of west central France, leaving all semblance of chic and style behind me together with my manicured nails to live in muddy boots and ripped jeans to work on the 'renovation of our French country ruin'. Eventually finding a need for contact with humanity in whatever form, I came upon the idea of selling fairy cakes to the French. Only problem was; I didn't have a kitchen!
This blog will be a document to the success, or otherwise of my enterprise along with the tales, trials and emotional rollercoasters of life on the market in France. I hope you will enjoy.......

quintessentially English

quintessentially English
........but in France!

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Feel-good moments


Today I had a real feel-good moment on the market. After a superb bank holiday weekend with temperatures hitting 30 degrees, we had the inevitable thunder and rain storms for two days, so I was relieved to wake up to dry and warm weather for my market morning! The story starts on my last market, where an acquaintance came by and decided that she would like to buy cakes to offer as a gift for some friends who had invited them for supper. I knew this was a big thing as she has been out of work for at least three years and the family has been surviving on her husband's very poorly paid job in a phsyciatric hospital, and an enormous vegetable garden, so when she said that she wanted four of every kind of cake on the table I felt very privileged. This morning she arrived on the market again and was so pleased to tell me how much the gift was appreciated; apparently each fairy cake was cut into slices so that all the guests could taste every thing, and pass judgement on 'English patisserie'! The stars of the show were my new Lavender cakes and chocolate meringues ( how you slice a gooey meringue into eight, I don't know!)
So today I suddenly became not only her cake provider, but also by default her friend and confidante. It seems that the poor thing has had a really rough time since her childhood, with a mother who used her as a scapegoat for all her own inadequacies, saying that she never wanted her daughter to succeed and succeeding in raising a daughter with no self-confidence whatsoever. After moving to this region from Marseilles to be with her husband she has never managed to find a new job, and has had numerous phsycological difficulties. A mutual friend is a healer and yoga 'guru' ( although she hates that word) and 'La petite Marseillaise' has been working with her on her inner strength and self confidence. Over the past six months she has transformed her outlook on life and is ready to start facing the world again. Today I was privileged to help her a little way along the road because while we were chatting she said that she didn't think she could ever do what I am doing, selling direct to the public, talking with strangers, dealing with money etc, so I said, "Of course you could, if you believe in the product then you can sell it to people" and taking a leap of faith, suggested that she should be the one to sell on my market stall today. Off came the dowdy anorak and on went the smile! La petite Marseillaise' came into her own, talking to complete strangers, albeit with a quavering voice at first she extolled the virtues of my fantastic lavender cakes, speaking with the authority of a 'southerner', muddled up Victoria sandwiches with lemon butterflies, and still managed to recover and sell a selection of cakes to a lady who was adamant that she didn't eat cake! La petite Marseillaise' phoned her husband to say that she was going to be late home for lunch, and really got stuck in. By the end of the market she was a transformed woman, and even suggested to my friendly veg man that she could help him out too if he needed her! So my leap of faith paid off, I had a good sales figure and a new friend who said that the experience was priceless!

Friday, May 21, 2010

Savoury moments




One of the things I love about the French lifestyle is the evening tradition of 'aperitifs'. None of the English heavy drinking and eating on a weekend here, you can be invited to someone's home for aperitifs and it really does what it says - a quick drink, not a long drawn-out evening!
It was in this spirit that I decided to add a little something savory to my range on the market, hence my lovely smoked salmon and olive mini cakes, designed to be served sliced as nibbles with drinks on a summer's evening. It took a little while, playing around with quantities and proportions, but at last I think I've got it, a last improvement of more wholemeal flour and less butter to counteract the grease of the salmon and here they are ; succulent and tasty!
I made a handful to test the market today and sold all but one which I kept for myself as a treat for lunch, it was lovely with a fresh green salad which I bought from my friendly veg man next door. So I had better not invite anyone around tomorrow as I have already eaten the nibbles!


Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Things are hotting up!

It seems that at last summer is on it's way back to France. I caught my first 'coup de soleil' (sunburn) today whilst sitting next to the fountain by my market stall gossiping with the girls on a slow early morning start. It sounds idyllic I know, and it would be if France wasn't in the middle of the Euro crisis, but at the moment hands are staying resolutely in pockets and there isn't much cash to be seen on the market. Lucky for me that the French have a sweet tooth and food is always considered a priority purchase, especially when it is pretty and sweet.
The sun shone and my mini Victoria sandwiches were in serious danger of toppling over with their butter icing oozing out in the warmth. This did nothing to put off my die-hard local cake fans who are loyally coming back week after week to bravely try each new invention I put before them. The local French inhabitants fall into two camps regarding English cuisine. Firstly the 'Don't touch it if it's not French - it might kill you' crowd and then the Anglophiles who have either visited England , have family living there or simply wish they could visit, so my cakes fulfill a little English fantasy at the same time as tasting good! If the good weather continues I will try adding iced green tea to my range as there is nothing like it with a slice of Lemon and a fairy cake to replenish the energy levels!
With the spring sunshine romance is sure to follow, and so my girlfriends on the market have decided to cash in by starting a speed dating business. This is nothing new on the rest of the planet but here it's a really big deal! Rural France isn't the ideal place to find a partner at the best of times so the girls set up a session in the local town for 40-55 year olds which was a roaring success. The next session was for a younger age group and I did try to persuade my amorous fishmonger to sign up but no luck in getting rid of him that way! (see previous post)
When the girls put flyers out around town, one found it's way to the local newspaper and hey presto! they had a call from the journalist asking for an interview and giving them loads of free publicity! Initially he wasn't sure if they had targeted his car because he was a journalist or because they guessed he was single, either of which could be a good enough reason, but either way, as the girls said afterwards, the quality of participants was so much better for the second session, they almost wanted to join in themselves , (which might not be a bad idea for one of them, who is already in a pretty turbulent 'menage a trois' style romance) and now they are waiting for wedding invites and the opportunity to buy new dresses for the parties they will be invited to!
The spirit of enterprise is alive and kicking here in the sticks, despite the infamous French red tape, and all power to those who are getting off their backsides to optimise their assets!

Friday, May 14, 2010

English crumpet!

As so many English men fantasise about the sexiness of French women, so it seems the French have their own fantasies about the English! Out in the cold morning air, the male market traders around me seem to have varying approaches to the seduction of a 'petite anglaise'. If you have ever seen a French comedy film or TV show you will know that the humour is very much of the trouser dropping variety, and I'm finding that far from the idealised Parisian romantic, the average French country bloke is pretty much still in caveman territory!
On a cold morning there are no end of offers to 'warm me up' ranging from the randy single fishmonger's over enthusiastic 'bises'(kisses moving from cheek, down towards the neck, if he gets half a chance!), to the married ex-army baker's dirty jokes, in some vain attempt to shock me into submission. Apparently every new girl who starts the markets gets this treatment for a while, but in my case apparently there seems to be some added challenge with constant "Hallo's" shouted across the market and competition amongst the baker, fruit & veg man and roast chicken seller to see which one can make the amorous fishmonger jealous. All this is in the best lighthearted humor, and keeps us all laughing in a not very glamourous part of rural France. Hey I'm not complaining, it gets me and my stand noticed and I have had a few good sales as a result of some really corney comments about 'les petites anglaises'. Sinking almost to their level I did point out to the roast chicken seller the other day, the English significance of the word 'cock' as he was contemplating getting a plastic cockerel to put on his stall to go with the bleating sheep on the cheese seller's stand, and the pig on the sausage stall. So of course we had the whole morning filled with a barrage of 'coq' innuendos which went completely over the heads of the biddies buying their veg, but had the rest of us in stitches!
All this to sell a few fairy cakes, but hey - that's the way it works around here, and everyone comes to me for their sugar fix now, not to the boulangerie!

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Perfect meringues, imperfect bureaucracy

There are many differences between the English and the French; dry, hard French meringues as opposed to my succulent and crisp English ones and differing bureaucratic tendencies, with simplicity definitely being more on the side of the Brits.

A cold, miserable day on the market was highlighted by the revelation by one of my girly colleagues that I really need a 'carte professionnelle' in order to sell my wares. It was an "Oh My God, didn't you know that!" moment with horrific stories of market traders being picked up by the police, spot checks and sting operations which completely freaked me out. Funnily enough in all my enquiries about what documentation I would need to sell my cakes on the market, no-one ever mentioned this! OK, just one more step along the French paper trail I thought, until of course I tried to get one done.
Clutching a myriad of documents, and the most appalling passport photo ever taken of a windswept and frazzled fairycake seller, I presented myself at the local Prefecture only to be informed after waiting in line for twenty minutes, that no, sorry the rules have changed and I would have to make a forty five minute drive to the regional office in order to make my request! Franz Kafka has nothing on this!
Having tried all afternoon and failed dismally to reach the required official by phone, I looked on-line to check what documents I would need to present, and was faced with an exhaustive list, most of which I didn't have. At this point I thought that maybe my career as a market trader was coming to a swift end, but, miraculously I had a follow up call from the prefecture lady who told me that my few papers would be absolutely fine and just to pop them in the post. As soon as she receives them I can carry on trading while I wait for the magical card to arrive. So, never assume that the official French line is the only one to follow, as there may be someone in an office somewhere who can help simplify the bureaucracy - isn't human contact great?

Sunday, May 9, 2010

If Terence Conran could sell French country style to the English in the 20th century, why shouldn't I sell English patisserie to the French in the 21st century?
If only it were that easy. I hadn't reckoned on French bureaucracy, weather and good old xenophobia. But hey, life on the traditional French markets is full of surprises so I thought I should share them with the wider world.
After 20 years living in the centre of uber style-conscious London, I shipped out to live in the rural bliss of west central France, leaving all semblance of chic and style behind me together with my manicured nails to live in muddy boots and ripped jeans to work on the 'renovation of our French country ruin'. Eventually finding a need for contact with humanity in whatever form, I came upon the idea of selling fairy cakes to the French. Only problem was; I didn't have a kitchen!
This blog will be a document to the success, or otherwise of my enterprise along with the tales, trials and emotional rollercoasters of life on the market in France. I hope you will enjoy.......