At Home in France: Eating and Entertaining with the French, Christopher Petkanas with photographs by Jean-Bernard Naudin (Phoenix, 1999). Four of the tables and maisons featured in this lovely book are in northern France—two in Paris, one in Beaujolais, and another in Brittany.
Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris, A. J. Liebling (North Point, 1986). This is one of those books that had reached legendary proportions in my mind before I even read it. It seemed to be mentioned in nearly everything I read about Paris. Predisposed as I was to like this book, it exceeded my expectations. With Liebling as a guide, I can taste the wine, hear the cutlery clanking, smell the Gitanes, and believe I’m sitting in a cane wicker chair at a Paris café.
The Cooking of Provincial France, M. F. K. Fisher with Julia Child (Time-Life, 1968). The collaborative effort to produce this book, one of the volumes in the Foods of the World series, was extraordinary, the likes of which we’ll probably never see again. (For a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at the series, see “Viola, the Soufflé!,” Gourmet, January 2006.) Though long out of print, this and other Foods of the World editions turn up regularly at yard sales, in used-book stores, and on the Web.
Culinaria France, André Domine (HF Ullmann/Tandem Verlag, 2008). This thick volume is one in the very good Culinaria series, great for travelers: each book is filled with beautiful color photographs and the culinary specialties of each region are presented in depth, so that visitors will know what to expect to see at markets and on local menus. One chapter is devoted to Paris and the Île-de-France, covering such topics as Les Halles, Parisian breakfast, Jewish breads and other specialties, and everyday Parisian fare, while others focus on the surrounding areas of Champagne, Lorraine, Alsace, Nord-Pas-de-Calais, Picardy, Normandy, Brittany, the Loire Valley, and Burgundy. Some recipes are included, but the Culinaria books are more informational than practical.
The Food of France, Waverley Root (Knopf, 1958; Vintage, 1992). “Eating habits,” says Root in the first chapter, “are part of our social habits, part of our culture, part of the environment, mental and physical, in which we live.” If your only vision of “French” food is limited to heavy sauces and butter, this definitive volume will open your eyes to the true diversity of France’s culinary map. There are separate chapters on the Île-de-France, Normandy, and Burgundy, where much of the food and wine served in Paris restaurants and offered in shops originates.
French Country Cooking, Elizabeth David (John Lehmann, 1951; various reissues available). The combination of David’s text and the beautiful color reproductions of artworks depicting food by Bonnard, Gauguin, Chardin, Signac, Monet, Renoir, and others makes this one of my most treasured volumes.
French Lessons: Adventures with Knife, Fork, and Corkscrew, Peter Mayle (Knopf, 2001). Mayle claims he can’t pretend to have done more than scratch the surface of French gastronomy, but the surface he did scratch is enlightening and entertaining. For this culinary journey Mayle traveled to all corners of France to attend the sort of wonderful gastronomic fêtes et foires that make visiting France so rewarding. He was surprised about “the high level of enthusiasm for any event, however bizarre, that sought to turn eating and drinking into a celebration. The amount of effort put in by the organizers, the stall holders, and the general public (who, in some cases, had traveled halfway across France) was astonishing. I cannot imagine any other race prepared to devote an entire weekend to frogs’ legs or snails or the critical assessment of chickens.” Four events are within two hours of Paris: Les Glorieuses, the most important chicken event of the year; the Foire aux Escargots in Martigny-les-Bains; Les Trois Glorieuses, a wine auction held every November in Beaune; and the boudin festival in Monthureux, north of Dijon. Best of all for travelers is the final chapter, “Last Course,” a detailed list of all the fairs, festivals, restaurants, and places featured, with contact information for each.
The Physiology of Taste, or Meditations on Transcendental Gastronomy, Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, translated by M. F. K. Fisher and with illustrations by Wayne Thiebaud (Counterpoint, 1994; originally published by Heritage Press, 1949; available in a new Everyman’s Library edition, 2009). Physiology is also available in several other editions, but this illustrated hardcover from Counterpoint is the edition to have (if you can find it). Brillat-Savarin (1755–1826) is right up there with Apicius as one of the world’s greatest gastronomes, and he is the one we have to thank for such observations as “The discovery of a new dish does more for human happiness than the discovery of a new star.” (Or, to quote Mort Rosenblum in A Goose in Toulouse, “Great human events are fine, Anthelme Brillat-Savarin observed, but let’s not forget lunch.”) I will surely be condemned for admitting that I’m a bit bored by some of the essays, but overall this is a masterpiece.
A Special Ensemble
Two books that I treasure and that I feel deserve to be noted separately are Bouquet de France: An Epicurean Tour of the French Provinces by Samuel Chamberlain with recipes translated and adapted by Narcissa Chamberlain (Gourmet Books, 1952) and Gourmet’s Paris (Gourmet Books, no copyright date appears anywhere in the volume I own, but I believe the book dates from the late 1970s or early 1980s).
Bouquet de France is a guidebook, restaurant directory, and cookbook, and even though the restaurant listings are obviously out of date (though a few are still open!) this is a terrific read. The Chamberlains lived for more than twelve years in pre–World War II France, and they contributed many articles to Gourmet. Narcissa’s passion was gastronomy while Samuel’s was illustration, and the illustrations in this book are what really set it apart.
Gourmet’s Paris does not feature illustrations but rather color photographs and a number of contributions from several writers, notably Naomi Barry, who opens her very good and still apropos essay with the observation that “everybody—consciously or subconsciously—comes to Paris looking for an extension of himself, for a talent not yet fully expressed, for a romance not yet realized, for a new way to look, a joie de vivre with vitamins plus, a heightened sense of identity, and sometimes just for Fun. Unless you are an ascetic by conviction, part of the fun will be eating, because Paris has a greater density of good restaurants than any other place on earth.” Like Bouquet de France, this is also a guidebook and a cookbook, a collection of love letters from a journey through “this best garden of the world.”
I have long felt that you cannot separate the history of food from the history of a city or a country—they are intertwined, especially in France. Consider: Henri IV’s famous pronouncement that every family in his realm should be able to afford stewed chicken—poule au pot—every Sunday; the fate of chef François Vatel, who supposedly invented crème chantilly for a banquet in honor of Louis XIV at the Château de Chantilly, but then, after several mishaps including a late fish delivery, committed suicide before the crème was ever served; or the origin of the word “bistro,” possibly derived from Russian soldiers (occupying Paris in 1814 after the defeat of Napoléon) who felt food service was too slow, so they pounded their fists on tables and shouted, “Bistro!” meaning “Hurry!” Really great cookbooks—the kind with both authentic, tried-and-true recipes and detailed commentary on food traditions and unique ingredients—are just as essential to travel as guidebooks. The books below are my favorites for French and/or Parisian recipes. All I really need to note about them is that I turn to these often—I consider most to be as worthy as classic novels.
60-Minute Gourmet (Times Books, 1979) and More 60-Minute Gourmet (Ballantine, 1986), both by Pierre Franey. Franey’s column for the New York Times, featuring recipes that would take less than an hour to prepare, was a nationwide sensation when it appeared in 1975. Franey ushered in a new era of American cooking, but in the French style: all these recipes are French inspired, with titles in French, and all are reliable winners—many suited to weeknight cooking—for serving to family and friends.
Barefoot in Paris, Ina Garten (Clarkson Potter, 2004).
Bistro Cooking, Patricia Wells (Workman, 1989).
The Cook and the Gardener: A Year of Recipes and Writings from the French Countryside, Amanda Hesser (Norton, 1999). Hesser cooked for Anne Willan, founder of L’École de Cuisine La Varenne, for a year in Burgundy. (The school [lavarenne.com] is now located in California.) Hesser reminds readers that the stuff of a garden should never be very far away from a kitchen.
French Cooking en Famille, Jacques Burdick (Ballantine, 1989).
Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume I by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck (1961) and Volume II by Julia Child and Simone Beck (1970), both published by Knopf. When I want to make the most classic of French dishes, I turn repeatedly to this set. I have never, ever been disappointed, though unlike the spirited Julie Powell (of Julie and Julia fame), I have not cooked every single recipe in these two exemplary volumes.
Saveur Cooks Authentic French, the editors of Saveur magazine (Chronicle, 1999). “French food,” as noted in the introduction, “is rich, its flavors concentrated, but it can satisfy in small amounts. No one eats cassoulet every day, and none but the most voracious have a second helping. But that one serving, once in a while, is a treasure house of flavors resonant of good living; it feeds the soul as well as the body.” This book is also valuable for “Our French Restaurants,” a great province-by-province guide to favorite places throughout the country.
The Taste of France, Robert Freson (Stewart, Tabori & Chang, 1983). This is that rare volume, one hundred great recipes paired with 375 fabulous photographs by Freson, plus outstanding contributions by Anne Willan, Alan Davidson, Jill Norman, and Richard Olney. A twenty-fifth anniversary edition was published in 2007.
Baking
I became a home baker because I was so inspired by the French art of pâtissier, but also because it seemed that every time I was invited to someone’s house for dinner, dessert was always an afterthought, some preservative-laden cake or pie purchased from the freezer section of a supermarket. I couldn’t understand why such attention was placed on the appetizer, the main course, and the wine, but not the dessert—so I started making them myself, and I might say I am now quite accomplished. Perhaps some of my favorite baking books will become favorites of yours:
The Cake Bible (William Morrow, 1988) and The Pie and Pastry Bible (Scribner, 1998), Rose Levy Berenbaum. The use of the word “bible” is not misplaced here as these are the most definitive books on the subject. For novices and seasoned bakers alike, featuring many cakes, pies, and tarts in the French tradition.
Great Pies & Tarts (1998) and Great Cakes (1999), both by Carole Walter and published by Clarkson Potter. The pies and tarts volume has more recipes for French-style creations than the cakes volume, but both are excellent.
La Maison du Chocolat, Robert Linxe (Rizzoli, 2001). I’m intimidated by some of these recipes from the legendary Paris chocolatier, but the Moist Chocolate Almond Cake and the Chocolate Almond Macarons are not complicated and wildly delicious.
Martha Stewart’s Pies & Tarts (Clarkson Potter, 1985). I plowed through this in much the same way that Julie Powell steadfastly made her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking. (Okay, I can’t take quite as much credit as Julie, as there are three recipes I just never made.) Martha’s recipes for pâte brisée and pâte sucrée crusts are the ones I turn to still, and her recipe for tarte tatin is flawless.
Paris Boulangerie-Pâtisserie, Linda Dannenberg (Clarkson Potter, 1994). This fine book features recipes from thirteen legendary Paris bakeries; the pain d’épices honey cake from Pâtisserie Lerch is a staple at my house. The directory of mail-order sources in the United States and restaurant supply stores in Paris is great.
Ready for Dessert: My Best Recipes, David Lebovitz (Ten Speed, 2010). A revision of his Room for Dessert—which was an International Association of Culinary Professionals award nominee—and with a dozen new recipes, this wonderful book is filled with many French-inspired treats.
I love to delve into books devoted to one culinary specialty, and here’s an assortment of some on specialties near and dear to the French:
Absinthe: History in a Bottle, Barnaby Conrad III (Chronicle, 1988). This is an alluring history of the infamous anise-flavored libation also known as la fée verte (the green fairy). The production, distribution, and sale of absinthe was banned in France on March 16, 1915, as it was believed to be the cause of alcoholism, suicide, general insanity, and epilepsy. Wormwood and its essence, thujone, was the ruinous and dangerous ingredient. Absinthe had its supporters, but they had no sway over the army: absinthe promoted drunkenness among soldiers, and it was crucial for the troops to be sober and united against Germany. In 1922, the government allowed the sale of wormwood-free absinthe, known today as pastis, available from producers such as Pernod and Ricard.
Cheese: A Connoisseur’s Guide to the World’s Best, Max McCalman (Clarkson Potter, 2005). This beautifully photographed and useful book features cheeses from around the world, but, naturally, many of them are French. I like it especially for the wine-pairing tips; the book makes a great gift when accompanied by selected cheeses and the recommended paired wines.
The Joy of Coffee: The Essential Guide to Buying, Brewing and Enjoying, Corby Kummer (Houghton Mifflin, 1995; revised 2003). A comment I often hear from people who visit France is that the coffee is so much better there. I believe it’s not the coffee that’s better but the quality of the preparation and the dairy products. (Coffee, after all, does not grow in France, and good-quality beans are available to coffee roasters around the world.) Coffee lovers will find this book enlightening as it addresses plantations, cupping, roasting, grinding, and storing (the best place for storing, if you drink it every day, is not in the freezer, as many people mistakenly believe). But even better are the recipes for baked goods that pair particularly well with coffee. I’ve made almost all of them and can vouch that they are especially yummy; the Unbeatable Biscotti are just that.
Olives: The Life and Lore of a Noble Fruit, Mort Rosenblum (North Point, 1996). Rosenblum tackled olives before he got to chocolate, and for those of us who love olives this is an essential read. Olives symbolize “everything happy and holy in the Mediterranean,” and though there is nary an olive tree growing around Paris, it matters not. “Next time the sun is bright and the tomatoes are ripe,” Rosenblum advises us, “take a hunk of bread, sprinkle it with fresh thyme, and think about where to dunk it. I rest my case.”
Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky (Walker, 2002). Did you know that salt makes ice cream freeze, removes rust, seals cracks, cleans bamboo furniture, kills poison ivy, and treats dyspepsia, sprains, sore throats, and earaches? Salt is believed by Muslims and Jews alike to ward off the evil eye, and bringing bread and salt to a new home is a Jewish tradition dating back to the Middle Ages. I was humbled to learn that the La Baleine sea salt I’ve been buying for years is owned by Morton, and I was surprised to learn that most of the salt mined today is destined for deicing roads in cold-weather places around the world. (Readers interested in more myriad uses for salt should get the nifty Solve It with Salt: 110 Surprising and Ingenious Household Uses for Table Salt by Patty Moosbrugger.)
Wine Box
True wine lovers want to know about all the wines of the world, even if they may prefer French wines over others. The following books are all good general resources for wine and include sections on French wine. (And wine in a box, by the way, is decent if not good in France. Though I have yet to try an American boxed wine that’s a match for any of the French brands—if you come across one, please let me know.)
Great Wines Made Simple: Straight Talk from a Master Sommelier, Andrea Immer Robinson (Broadway, 2005, revised edition).
Jancis Robinson’s Wine Course: A Guide to the World of Wine (Abbeville, 2006, revised edition).
Michael Broadbent’s Vintage Wine: Fifty Years of Tasting Three Centuries of Wine (Harcourt, 2002).
The Oxford Companion to Wine, Jancis Robinson (Oxford University Press, 2006, third edition).
The Pleasures of Wine (2002) and Vineyard Tales (1996), both by Gerald Asher, wine editor at Gourmet for more than thirty years, and published by Chronicle.
What to Drink with What You Eat: The Definitive Guide to Pairing Food with Wine, Beer, Spirits, Coffee, Tea—Even Water—Based on Expert Advice from America’s Best Sommeliers, Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page (Bulfinch, 2006).
Windows on the World Complete Wine Course, Kevin Zraly (Sterling, 2009, updated edition).
The Wine Bible, Karen MacNeil (Workman, 2001).
Wine People, Stephen Brook (Vendome, 2001). This is a unique collection of forty portraits of individuals involved in all aspects of wine production and consumption. The profiles are not limited to proprietors and producers, but also include wine merchants and traders, wine writers, a collector, an auctioneer, and a sommelier—and the majority are French. Brook reminds us that wine is a fascinating subject, “a culture that binds together the aristocrat and the peasant, the producer wedded to his soil and the sharp-eyed city merchant, the cautious grower and the extravagant consumer. It is a major source of conviviality. A raised glass can bring down, if only temporarily, national boundaries.”
The World Atlas of Wine, Hugh Johnson and Jancis Robinson (Mitchell Beazley, 2007).
Adventures on the Wine Route: A Wine Buyer’s Tour of France, Kermit Lynch (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1988). Lynch, a wine merchant based in Berkeley, California, has earned a reputation for championing very good wines from smaller, sometimes eccentric producers that might never be found in the United States were it not for his efforts to import them. Lynch’s journeys around France, on routes and in cellars, are truly fascinating, as are the men and women who make the wine he loves. The late noted food and wine writer Richard Olney has it exactly right when he opines in the preface, “No book on wine and the people who make it has ever been written that remotely resembles Adventures on the Wine Route.” Regions near Paris that Lynch visits include the Loire, Beaujolais, Côte-d’Or, Chablis, and Mâconnais-Chalonnais. This book was the winner of the Veuve Clicquot Wine Book of the Year award.
Alexis Lichine’s Guide to the Wines and Vineyards of France (Knopf, 1989, fourth edition). Lichine, a former wine exporter, grower, and winemaker (Château Prieuré-Lichine), notes that “from time immemorial, the world’s greatest wines have come from France. Though not large in size, for the diversity and quantity of wine it produces France could be a continent.… There is hardly a corner of the country that does not offer its own distinctive wines and cuisine, history and scenery, in almost equal measure.” Though this wonderful book is out of print, it can still be found and is still very much worth reading for context.
Hachette Atlas of French Wines & Vineyards, edited by Pascal Ribéreau-Gayon (Hachette, 2000). I defer to Robert Parker in his foreword for the best endorsement of this fine book: “This comprehensive book splendidly chronicles and describes the wines of France. It is to be applauded loudly by anyone with a fondness for that country’s diverse and dynamic viticulture.”
Reflections of a Wine Merchant: On a Lifetime in the Vineyards of France and Italy, Neal Rosenthal (North Point, 2008). Rosenthal began working in the wine business in 1978, and with his partner, Kerry Madigan, formed Rosenthal Wine Merchant and Mad Rose Group (madrose.com), an “umbrella for a close-knit group of people who understand that wine is an agricultural product and that in its best and purest form wine must reflect a specific sense of place.” Terroir, then, is of the utmost importance to Rosenthal. He notes on his Web site the two rules that guide Rosenthal Wine Merchant: “Ninety percent of the ultimate wine is created in the vineyard, and the role of the winemaker is to let the wine make itself.” Today Rosenthal’s company represents approximately seventy-five producers, and he shares stories about some of them in this engaging book.
Rosenthal endeared himself to me when I read, “I am curious about the new and different, but I am most at home with the tried and true. Ultimately, my portfolio of growers and their wines reflects my search for wines that are part of classical tradition. As a result, we may be out of the mainstream.” I feel the same way about the wines I prefer. I also like his answer to this interview question on WineLibrary.com: “What advice would you give a novice wine drinker to help him or her deepen his/her appreciation of wine?” Rosenthal’s advice is to “find a wonderful, passionate, generous retail merchant who is willing to share his/her knowledge. Then, most important of all, be a curious consumer.” Rosenthal Wine Merchant represents producers throughout France, and profiles of them are available on the Mad Rose Web site.
Wine and War: The French, the Nazis, and the Battle for France’s Greatest Treasure, Don and Petie Kladstrup (Broadway, 2001). Journalists Don and Petie Kladstrup made a fascinating discovery while working on a story about the French government’s plan to dig a tunnel through the Loire Valley for the high-speed TGV train network. In the course of their interview with Vouvray vintner Gaston Huet, who opposed the plan, the Kladstrups learned “one of the most amazing stories we have ever heard, a story about courage, loneliness, despair and, in the end, how a tiny bit of wine helped Huet and his fellow POWs survive five years of imprisonment.” The writers met other winemakers and heard other stories, and quickly realized that they deserved to be shared and remembered in a book. Some readers may not be aware that the Germans drew the demarcation line between France’s occupied and unoccupied zones quite deliberately: the prized vineyards of Bordeaux, Champagne, and Burgundy were not by accident part of the occupied zone. The Kladstrups reveal some truly extraordinary tales about the resourcefulness of wine producers and the villainy of collaborators. Three years of research and interviews aided the Kladstrups in unraveling this previously untold chapter of history, which often reads like a thriller and which I highly recommend.
The Wines of France: The Essential Guide for Savvy Shoppers, Jacqueline Friedrich (Ten Speed, 2006). Friedrich’s “Norman Rockwell block” in South Orange, New Jersey, was wine-free when she was growing up, and her first wine loves were Riunite Lambrusco, Lancers, and Mateus. But Friedrich has since become a wine maven, and she is really passionate about French wine. She’s not afraid to assert that “France is the greatest winemaking country in the world. And it always will be, at least in our lifetime.” (I agree.) This is a hugely helpful book both for visitors to France and wine-buying readers at home.
