French food is authentic because they say so

Making charcuterie in France. 

The French take authenticity in food so seriously that it’s hard to contemplate. For example there is the “Association Amicale des Amateurs d'Andouillette Authentique” (Amicable Association of Adorers of Authentic Andouillette), which is dedicated to preserving a particular kind of tripe sausage. This is a stinky kind of sausage that many people find revolting, and that is offered as kind of a challenge to eaters who claim to be brave. (The Adorers say it’s not stinky if it’s made properly.)

A couple of years ago, the AAAAA president Jacques-Louis Delpal said that the society:   “‘was born as a joke,’ when five food critics began hosting regular andouillette-focused gatherings in the 1950s.” (Source: The Misunderstood French Sausage That Has Its Own Association).

We heard of the sausage and also of the society during our trip to France years ago. One of our friends took us to a wine bar where it was among the regional specialties on offer, and challenged us to eat some —  I think Len did so, and I suspect it was the authentic, certified, made-right version of this dish. The Association (and in fact the sausage itself) is the kind of obscure gastronomic phenomenon that some of our French friends find very amusing. What it is specifically:

“Andouillette boasts several regional variants, but its most well-known form is associated with the city of Troyes: pork tripe is soaked, scalded, sliced, and seasoned with aromatics like onions, nutmeg, and even Champagne. It is then threaded by hand (‘à la ficelle’) into its casing and simmered for several hours before being sold.”

This is only one example of how French people value, in fact almost worship, authenticity in food. Although gastronomy in France has been a constant scene of reinvention for several hundred years — including at least two times that the term “nouvelle cuisine” was used — they also love to claim very ancient traditions at work. They also love to write, often bombastically, about food, talk about food, form organizations to promote their ideas about food, and so on. For example:

 

“In 1996, several well-known French chefs including Joël Robuchon … and Alain Ducasse, probably the most famous French chef alive today, issued a manifesto denouncing the ‘globalisation of cuisine’ and innovation for its own sake. Eighteen months after the reactionary manifesto, opposing chefs of equal stature – known as the ‘group of eight’ – fired back, rejecting nostalgia in favour of experimentation in the kitchen.” (Source: The rise and fall of French cuisine)

Here’s another example of the French interest in authentic food: an entire book of essays dedicated to the traditional dish pot-au-feu. It's an entirely fascinating book, and inculdes many obscure things about the history of the dish, its reputation, old sayings and kids' rhymes that refer to the dish, ways that people view the ‘authenticity’ of the dish, and the glories of the many variations of the dish throughout the French nation. In fact, the French King Henri IV (d. 1610) said he hoped to reign in a land where every peasant could afford a poule-au-pot, a dish that's a type of pot-au-feu.

Some regions have special versions of pot-au-feu: several articles in the book contain a great deal of detail about these preparations. The most famous is bouillabaisse, the fish stew that's the specialty of Marseilles and of fishing villages along the Mediterranean coast; a rather long chapter offers incredible detail about this dish. There's a chapter on kig ha farz, the classic dish of the Finistére region of Brittany. The potée (soup) of Lorraine, the garbure (vegetable soup) of the south-west, and the bréjaude of the Limousin are also described in detail, along with the attitudes and feelings of the people of these regions. (For my complete review of this book, see this blog post)

Over the years, I’ve written about French food and the constant reinvention of traditions and authenticity often. I’m aware that French legislation constantly protects tradition and authenticity, for example, defining the meaning of  “fait maison” (made in house) and the logo (shown in the picture) to designate restaurants that prepare all food in house rather than buying from huge warehouses full of  ready made restaurant meals. Over 30 percent of Paris restaurants were doing this a few years ago— I don’t know if the law has helped. But it shows how they worry about it. And it’s only one of the numerous French laws regulating the quality and accuracy of French cuisine and the training required to be a baker, a chef, or other food trades.

I started thinking about the way the French deal with the idea of authenticity because earlier this week I was reading about authenticity in other cuisines, which made me think about the association to preserve andouillettes. In fact, a bit of reading and I discovered this:

“There are also many gastronomic associations that celebrate and preserve specific dishes and maintain the traditional versions of tête de veau, cassoulet, andouille, boudin and regional specialities such as the black figs of Caromb and cherries of Venasque. These associations confer and organise awards, badges, dinners, festivals and competitions. I once met two representatives of the Association to Safeguard the Oeuf Mayonnaise, who were very happy to explain, without any irony, the criteria for an excellent example of the form. ‘It depends on the eggs, their freshness, how well they are cooked, and then the nap of the mayonnaise must be perfect – it should cover the eggs and not fall down too easily.’” (Source: The rise and fall of French cuisine)

And notice that I didn’t even get around to mentioning the extreme French views about the quality and provenance and history of bread! French food is a topic with infinite possibilities.

Blog post © 2023 mae sander.

Photos as credited.