I’ve now had over ten days to study and observe French culture and one thing is becoming shockingly clear. There’s so many nice cute French boys looking for a serious relationship and so few nice cute French girls who want the same. According to the FC’s friends, Jerome and Maxime, it’s a serious crisis. Almost as serious as my ever-widening thighs.


It’s Day 11 in France and the carbs just keep on coming. Baguettes, croissants, waffles: If I wasn’t bikini-ready before I left Canada, I’m even more blubbery now. But the food here is so delicious I can’t resist trying everything, especially now that the FC is back in Canada (his vacation time was limited) and eating is my only comfort. 


This morning in Paris, Jerome took me to a pattisserie across the street from his apartment on rue Emile Zola in the 15th Quarter. (I wonder if there’s a rue Jean Paul Sartre?) Jerome buys some croissants, bread, and his favourite pistachio macarons. He refuses to let me pay.  I am  “une invitee,” he says (Jerome also let me crash at his place the previous night.)


Jerome treats me to morning pastries. Kind, funny, patient with my patchy French, I'm starting to think ALL FC's rock. I strongly recommend you single girls out there hunt one down for yourself. FYI, Jerome is single.

Generous, funny and cute-- Is it just my impression, or do all French Cocks rock? I strongly recommend getting one for yourself. This one is available.


Of all the baked goods, baguettes are particularly important in France, much moreso than in Montreal. They’re a daily French ritual, as vital to a good life as finding the right girl, and for French boys like Max and Jerome, this is a much-discussed quest. I’m always amazed how earnestly and urgently they discuss their hearts. Unlike so many Canadian guys, French boys here don’t want to play the field, continuously chasing the high of falling in love; they want a companion, marriage. Max wants someone exotic and international (ie, not a French girl) so they can travel the world and Jerome wants the basic “funny, smart and cute” combo, also adding “someone my age or younger.” (This last point stings, but I’m sure he’s more flexible than he thinks.)


Fortunately, finding the perfect baguette is much easier than finding a life partner. It’s in a small boulangerie called The Retrodor in Bois D’Arc, the Paris suburb where I’m currently staying with Patrick, yet another awesome friend of the FC. Patrick lives in a house right next to his parents’ in the same neighborhood he grew up in. In a weird way, it resembles a Toronto suburb– but with prettier houses and much better bakeries.


Patrick’s parents are very passionate about their baguettes, so much so that their local boulangerie makes a special customized batch just for them (3 per day). And I can see why.  Shorter than a normal baguette, and super slim,  weighing 200 grams vs the usual 300 grams, this bread boasts a perfect combination of crustiness and chewiness. (Bigger baguettes tend to be doughier and less cooked.) Barely two hours after polishing off my rich patisserie breakfast, I was devouring this baguette. Even without butter or jam, it was divine.


See the perfect grain of this bread?  Crusty chewy perfection.

See the perfect grain of this bread? Crusty chewy perfection.


Also important to note: surplus fresh baguettes are put whole in the freezer, unwrapped and lightly toasted afterwards with no loss of texture (if only that worked for women.)  I’m also going to consider opening up a match-making agency for frustrated Canadian girls to meet adorable pro-marriage French guys. I think this would solve both country’s romantic problems. (It certainly solved mine.)


With the FC back in Canada, at least I have my baguette to snuggle with.

With the FC back in Canada, at least I have my baguette to snuggle with.


Girl burns off morning baguette riding bike in Paris.

Girl burns off morning baguette riding bike in Paris.


Max accompanied me by train from Lyon to Paris, then treated me to a waffle with creme de maroon (yes, that again) at a cafe in the park by the Tour Eifel.  Another FC babe.

Max treated me to a waffle with creme de maroon at a cafe in the park by the Tour Eifel. Chivalrous, romantic, ambitious in his job, and always very entertaining, Max is a great catch. (He'll be Bachelor #1 in my new French Boy Match-Making Agency.)


The FC fetches fresh baguettes in Giens, the village in the South of France where we stayed for a week. Even small tourist-y variety stores stock fresh-baked baguettes daily.

In Giens, my favourite FC fetches fresh baguettes for our breakfast. He's not available.

3 Responses to “French Boys and French Baguettes”

  1. The FC Says:

    French people like to criticize their country a lot, and also other countries (in Québec, the French are said to be ”Maudit Français” because of that…) But the French are also arrogant and it’s good for our pride to hear a cute and yes “bikini-ready” Canadian girl talk about France with so much appreciation, both for the food and the people.

  2. Christin Says:

    It’s interesting that French boys talk about their hearts with such openness. What’s more interesting is that in France and Italy there is no single culture like there is in North America and the UK. No Bridget Jones, no Carrie Bradshaw. I read an article where Europeans were asked what they would do if they had to live out the rest of their lives without romantic love, the French and the Italians said that they would rather die. Are they right? Is life worth living without romance?

  3. laura Says:

    Yes! But to clarify, I think in France it’s more about marriage/love then actual “romance.” Here in North America, maybe we overestimate romance, and that’s what causes prolonged singleness. (Both Carrie and Bridget were obsessed with the perfect guy.) Europeans are more practical. Jerome and Max were willing to get with someone they really liked, and soon. No need for absolute perfection… Even Patrick, who I stayed with in Paris, said French men tended to “find a nice girl, lock on and stick.” (In fact, the marriage I attended in France was for a couple getting married after being together for seven years.) It also explains why the FC was so instantly loyal to me, confronting each obstacle along the way to ensure the relationship continued, despite my doubts. He knew he’d found something he liked and locked on. No fear. No tentativeness. But not clingy either, more manly, in fact. It’s all that wishy-washy stuff you can’t respect!! By doing this, the romance just happens. Romance is the means for keeping the love, not the end. And it makes French men more romantic ALL THE TIME, vs just during the courtship phase.

    So, in my (limited) experience of French men, shopping around isn’t where it’s at. It’s about getting your love life started and building on it, fast. Like Patrick’s parents and their yummy baguette, they found a recipe they liked and stuck with it. (A detail I failed to mention in my posting is that they already found the baguette recipe they liked and actually gave it to their baker to make. That’s how committed they are. They don’t need to experiment. They’ve already got it.)

    This whole discussion makes me re-think how I would have handled my previous long term relationship with the A.C. Had I (or even just he) come from a stronger marriage culture (vs marriage shame) we’d have surely gotten hitched, and we’d probably be very happy too. He is/was a great guy who I now see in a whole new light. But with no long term goals for the relationship, it just stayed in limbo.

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