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american, candy, chocolate, christmas, Christmas cookies, expat, Girl, journalist, le figaro, le figaro in english, paris
So, in the first few weeks after my return to France, I brought the “taste of America” into the Le Figaro news room.
While home for the holidays, my family and I had baked and decorated huge batches of oatmeal cookies with Christmas colored MMs and traditional cookie press Christmas cookies in the shape of wreaths and Christmas trees. I couldn’t think of anything more festive, nor so culturally American, to bring back for my friends in France.
I was loaded up like Santa Claus when I returned to Paris. I have to admit that it was a pain carrying the cookies across the Atlantic (I had to bring them carry-on.) However, it totally paid off when, Tupperware in hand, I made the rounds of the newsroom. Quite honestly, I think I did more to get myself hired on that particular day than on any other day of the year.
The French may be proud of their food, but I have never, ever seen my co-workers go so crazy as they did for the cookies. They were wide-eyed and curious, sent me emails to thank me, put up Facebook statuses about the cookies and, bien sûr, returned for seconds. The extremely quiet guy who works in my group finally opened up… to ask me if I was dating anyone (we all died laughing.)
Hilariously enough, that wasn’t my only “taste of America” success. Before I left for home, I asked a few people if I could bring them anything. An amusing majority of people asked for… Reese’s Pieces or Reese’s Peanut Butter cups. A surprising number of my French friends who had been to the US seemed to have fallen in love with this all-American gluttony.
So, when I returned, I gave my boss and my supervisor each a holiday Reese’s in the shape of a snowman and soon, the whole team was quite literally melting. In eating the candy (which was generously shared around), one of my colleagues announced that he was eating peanut butter for the first time. As I am a diehard peanut butter addict, the cultural difference was immediately clear.
A few minutes later, a graphic designer stopped by our desk. Her eyes got enormous. She ate a piece and then turned to me, “You have changed my day.”
As my boss said after her first rich, over-sugary and absolutely delicious bite: “There is a god.”
One point to America.