What Brexit Will Do For Our Bread

This is another story from the upcoming collection of 2018 short fiction


‘I’m sorry Your Crustiness, but he insists on seeing you.’

Cob, The Arch Dough of Bakersville hung his head. He looked around the Palace, with its columns and pillars, a confection of support, standing proud, like the ultimate wedding cake. Just when everything was going so well and now he had to deal with a neurotic Head-Baker. How had it come to this? They shouldn’t have recruited from abroad, they should have stayed with what they knew.

‘What’s he want?’

‘He…’ the page-bap sagged in the middle, a little underdone. ‘He won’t tell me.’

‘Why can’t he just do what he’s paid for? He’s here to bake, not bend my ear.’

‘You know what he’s like, Your Enrichedness. It’s a cultural thing. With him, everything’s on a knead the dough basis.’

Cob felt his crust begin to crack. ‘Alright, show him in. But I’m not happy. Not happy at all.’

A tall floury man with a multi-seed complexion slipped into the antechamber. ‘Allo.’

‘Beurre. Good to see you. Everything going well?’

Beurre put down his spatula. ‘I need help, Your Doughiness. We are heading for disaster.’

‘Oh I’m sure that’s a bit of an exaggeration.’

‘You pay me to create sumptuous breads, tasty buns, melt in the mouth cakes. If things don’t change it’ll be all pitta and pancakes.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘The kitchen has been infiltrated. I’m sure some of the baking powder is actually a raising agent, spying for a foreign power. The eggs have started self-separating and it’s really no yolk and well, the yeast…’


Beurre looked around as if the room had ears. ‘Our usual supplier has changed. Now all our yeast is from the east and it’s beastly. We tried a batch today. We did everything according to instructions but instead of the yeast being fermented the dough just threw itself at the walls and began rocking about in the mixing bowls.’

‘You mean it’s demented?’

‘Precisely. I can’t work in these conditions. I mean at least in France, it was fun making bread, but here it’s just a pain.’

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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8 Responses to What Brexit Will Do For Our Bread

  1. Ritu says:

    GigglesomeGigglesome, as always!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. JT Twissel says:

    Wild thymes in the kitchen with the burry pain and low l’eau! Hope the lait is not late and the tart not tardy!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. George says:

    Crumbs! You’re evidently on a roll.

    Liked by 1 person

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