Brits in Paris

‘Yes, it’s here!’ says the sign above the English épicerie in Paris. ‘Yes, at last,’ thinks the starved expat wandering in a desert of croissants, magret de canard and monts blancs. Now for some real food: Fray Bentos pies, Quaker Oats, Fentimans lemonade, HP Sauce, Marmite, Tetley’s, Twinings, Dorset cereals, Cadbury’s Fruit & Nut, Altoids mints and Macsween  haggis. As a sop to Americans: Pop-Tarts, Lucky Charms, Aunt Jemima’s pancakes and marshmallow fluff in a jar. I know an Englishman who walks the length of the Canal Saint-Martin for proper Yorkshire Tea.

There is a Pont cartoon ‘The British Character: Importance of Tea’ which shows four doughty picnickers getting an oil-stove and kettle going in a gale. Never formerly a tea fusspot, in Paris I have become a Pont throwback. I face a rictus of agony when the water comes tepid, the teabag in its wrapper and the milk UHT. One cannot stay cheerful on plongeur’s dishwater.