The French are really rather rude

When talking about British food.

They cannot help but be quite mean

When it comes to tasting our cuisine.

 

They mock our beef with roasted spuds,

Our gravy soaking Yorkshire puds:

Swear vinegar on fish and chips

Would never make it past their lips

 

They claim the British high cream tea

Can’t match French haute pattiserie

In the kitchen, we can’t expect

The French to show us much respect

 

So when I’m invited to a fete¹

I cook up something they won’t forget.

The culinary offensive I will take:

My weapon is - LEMON DRIZZLE CAKE.

 

These French folk seem to love the stuff

They simply cannot get enough.

They’ll eat four pieces without stopping

And rave about the crunchy topping.

 

My lemon cake’s known far and wide

It fills me up with British pride.

Every party, they’ll ask me

To translate the recipe.

 

I’m waiting for the call one day

From Paris and the Elysée

Requesting my gateau aux citrons

For tea chez President Macron.

 

My great secret, when I bake:

Mary Berry’s “Foolproof Cakes”.²

No one believes me when I say

It’s “gateaux pour les nuls” en francais.

 

So if you want to make a start

On cracking open a gallic heart

Mary Berry holds the key

With her simple recipe.³

 

The cake to conquer the French nation

Or at least sort Anglo-French relations:

Lemon Drizzle has the power

Over the land of the Eiffel Tower.

 

1 Pronounced “fet” in French, so it rhymes with “forget”.

2 Mary Berry, Foolproof Cakes (BBC Books, 2004)

3 pp.62-63