The French Don't Like Cupcakes

Image: Zazzle

I am not a very good cook, nor am I a baker. However, the one thing I know I can do is whip out a pretty good batch of cupcakes which have usually all disappeared by the next morning. It goes without saying, therefore, that 6 weeks into my time in Bordeaux, I felt it was about time to treat my flatmates to a sweet surprise. The plan was made, I would go to the supermarket after work and make them that evening. Of course it was a nightmare, here is why…

The Supermarket. It wasn’t until I headed to the 3^rd supermarket that I found everything that I needed. When I say supermarket, think the hectic atmosphere of Oxford Street’s Primark mixed with the overwhelming size of most IKEAs. It is practically a department store, and they still didn’t have everything that I wanted.

The Flour. Perhaps I should have looked up the word for, ‘self-raising flour’ before I headed off on my adventure, but I figured it would be simple right? Wrong. Self-raising flour doesn’t exist in France, the closest thing I could find was titled, ‘Farine pour gateaux’ (Flour for cakes). Hmmm…

The Cases. After two rounds of the supermarket, by which time the guy behind the cheese counter was starting to recognise me, I decided it was time to ask someone where to find cupcake cases. I was led to another floor (yes- multi-story supermarket) where I found them hidden amongst kitchen utensils and bed sheets.

The Baking Tray. You know what I mean, with all the holes for the cakes? The French don’t know what I mean. That doesn’t exist in France.

The Oven. Okay, so I won’t blame the French for this one. In my flat I have a very old oven and unfortunately I didn’t realise that it lied about the temperature and so a lot of guess work was involved.

The Result? Squidgy, misshapen squarecakes with burnt bottoms.

But they actually tasted quite nice!