There are some things I thought may happen once I moved to France and there are things I never thought would happen. Knocking on the doors of strangers dressed in dressing gowns, and trying to sell them brioche definitely belonged in the ‘never’ category.

Now the French love their cake, and rightly so as I am yet to find anything in the bakers here that I won’t eat, they even have an annual cake party in homage to the galette des Rois (Cake of Kings). They take sugary treats seriously. So I wasn’t too surprised to find there is another ‘cake day’ in the calender in my local region.

On Sunday morning, we were up bleary eyed waiting in a disused garage to be given two large boxes packed full of brioche (a milky soft bread/cake usually eaten for breakfast). Our task was to sell them ALL by going door-to-door sweet talking strangers and returning back at base before 11.30am. So out we went to our pre planned zone and started ringing on doorbells, knocking on windows and waving bagged up brioches at passing cars, hoping for a sale.We were taking part in the Grande Vente de Brioche (the big brioche sale) now in its 34^th year. Started by a local man wanting to raise funds for his disabled daughter, it has grown in size and donations becoming a real date in the local’s diaries. Knowing all the cash goes to charity APAEI (l’Association des Parents et amis des Enfants Inadaptes) people actually ran after us in the street as they didn’t want to miss out!

Last year in my town, and surrounding areas, over 7500 brioches were sold by 400 volunteers who gave up their Sunday morning to take part. Supported by many boulangers (bakers) in the region, there was a real sense of community spirit aided by a competitive drive to sell your wares as soon as possible. Alan Sugar would have loved our team of apprentices.

Speaking French with strangers in their dressing gowns as they bought the famous French cake from us (cake or bread I still don’t know?! Almost as confusing as deciding if the jaffa cake is a cake or biscuit - who cares just enjoy it!), was so weird but also so satisfying, not just in collecting cash for charidee but personally feeling a sense of pride that I wouldn’t have had the courage to do this two years ago.

Volunteering always makes you feel good, but it is an extra special bonus when you agree to help and there is cake involved! You all know how much I lurve cake.

Mmm lets just take a moment to marvel at these macaroons. These tiny mouthfuls of joy are so popular in France kind of like the cupcake craze that was in the UK. They are popular after dinner to go with a cup of coffee, as an afternoon sugar rush pick-me-up or even more luxourious with a cold glass of bubbly. You can find them in so many colours from neutral rose to garish neon green and flavours ranging from espresso to bubblegum. I was also told that you can get savoury macaroons filled with foie gras but I’m yet to find one of these. Challenge accepted.

They should be slightly crisp on the outside and have a soft chewy texture inside as well as a middle layer of goeyness. They can be topped with chocolate, coconut, or other edible sweet treats. The only problem is to decide which colour and flavour you want!

Getting drunk on a Sunday afternoon is probably not the best idea but when it is combined with a birthday party then it’s a great plan! It was my boyfriend’s birthday (yes I have a boyfriend and he is French oh la la!) and to celebrate his mum had organised a small family dinner. For some reason the theme was Norwegian. I don’t know why, we don’t know any Norwegian people, never been to Norway but it made a change from all the French cuisine I have been stuffing myself with recently.

The food may have been from a different country but the plan of the dinner was definitely French. Starting with the aperitif of foie gras and champagne, a starter or salmon blinis that looked like little hamburgers, a main course of salmon and jacket potato filled with caviar, followed with cheese and salad, apple cake and birthday cake finally washed down with coffee and copious amounts of French red wine.

Once again I nearly had to be rolled home.

It was such a nice day and the French-English conversation flowed really well almost as good as the alcohol. At one point we must have been getting tipsy as we started a war with party poppers, streamers and these tubes you blow balls from. Suddenly we had a girls verses boys team but admitted defeat when we nearly blew the big light out.

It finished around 6pm and we were all a little worse for wear. It feels odd when you are zig zagging your way home, clutching onto walls for stability and it is still daylight outside. I surely must have built up my tolerance for drinking by now!

French cuisine is amazing and I have enjoyed tasting new things including these little suckers but there is a time and place when a girl starts to crave home comforts. Especially a chippy tea on a Friday night. I haven’t seen one fish and chip shop since I have been here so imagine my happiness when I was invited to a ‘Fish and Chip night’ at a local restaurant who happens to have an English chef. If there is one dish us Brits are famous for it’s this one so I knew he would do us proud. The night was organised by my Aunt who owns an English Centre (you can check it out here) and wanted to give her French students a taste of Britain in the form of chunky chips and battered cod.

The huge piece of fish was served with homemade tarter sauce, a wedge of lemon and huge Jenga chips. It tasted just like home, apart from missing a pot of gravy which I see as an essential to this dish. The batter was crispy, the fish just melted in your mouth and the chips were fluffy in the middle but golden brown on the outside. For dessert we had apple crumble and ice cream and my tastebuds forgot I was in France for a while.

The students also loved the meal and for many of them it was their first taste of fish and chips.The chef and co-owner Tony comes from the South of England and moved here with his French wife Sarah to open the restuarant ‘The Barbican’ in Fecamp. Their menu changes weekly and is this great mix of French and English favourites with a twist. If only they did a takeaway option wrapped in paper and a pot of gravy then we would be onto a winner!

It is only since I have lived in France for the past few months that I have started noticing a fair few differences between our neighbours over the channel. Apart from the obvious of driving on the other side of the road and speaking a different language these are some of the things that were new to me, all related to food and drink.

1. Coffee in a bowl. French coffee is strong, popular and cheap in small cafés where small dainty cups of espresso are knocked back frequently. But in French homes I have been served coffee in a cereal bowl at breakfast, which at first I struggled with the concept of holding the steaming bowl without a handle and spilling it all down myself. Apparently this is popular at breakfast for people to dip their croissant in as a two in one treat.

2.Kettles are as rare as unicorns*. This is a coffee drinking country and tea is an afterthought so trying to find a kettle in a French house is difficult. At times I had to resort to getting my builders brew fix by heating water in a saucepan or in the microwave. Neither tastes as good as a kettle. I don’t think I have seen a teapot for months. *Slight exaggeration – kettles are rarer.

3. Milking It. Still on the beverage front it seems most people drink sterilised UHT milk. You can find fresh milk in the supermarkets in a small section but it is cheaper and more convenient to drink the warm bottled stuff. Strange at first but I have soon got used to the new taste.

4. Bread is King. Boulangeries (bakeries) are the only shops open every day, usually until 7/8pm at night, with people queuing out of the door to buy their daily fresh baguette or pain. I think they smoke brain influencing chemicals out of secret vents as I can’t seem to walk past one without going in to by a crusty baguette or buttery croissant.

5. Served with a spoon. This is genius and I am adopting this method to use a teaspoon instead of a knife to spread jam/ Nutella/ condiment on your bread/croissant/cakes. It glides on so much easier and you get to lick the spoon after which isn’t recommended with the knife method.

6. Dinner takes time. If you are invited for dinner then expect to be sat at the table for hours while you work your way through the host’s repertoire. Starting with an aperitif, the entrée, possibly a sorbet, the main course, cheese and salad, dessert, coffee and a digestive. Don’t forget the wine and bread basket. Pass me my stretchy pants.

7. Carnivores Unite. My French cousin is a vegetarian and I know she struggles as France is geared towards meat eaters. I doubt the Linda McCartney veggie range is highly stocked in the supermarkets here.

8. Little Nibbles. The aperitif or ‘apero’ before a meal is important and can even be a work of art. The small crackers, little nibbles and sometimes animal shaped savoury bites are all washed down with an alcoholic beverage as you wait for your starter.

9. Be polite. I know it is good manners to wait until everyone has been served a drink to start slurping away yourself, but sometimes this goes on a bit too long. I went to a birthday party and we had to wait until everyone arrived (around 80 people) to be served a drink. It is always awkward at the start of parties but having a glass in your hand makes this more bearable.

10. Wonderful wine. The French are known for their great taste in wine and with a country full of vineyards it means that to buy a half decent bottle is just a few euros. Cheap and tasty which is a dangerous combination.

*Disclaimer: I don’t mean to disrespect either nationality but merely to point out things I didn’t know before living here. Obviously I haven’t met every French person and not all of these things below apply to those I have met but I have enjoyed learning and embracing these slight variations of life. Phew.