In the 17th century, the heart of France was neither Paris nor Versailles, but the body of Louis XIV, the Sun King. When his power was at its zenith, the King's meals—like the rest of his private life—were lavish affairs attended by the notables of the day. Cooking took a decisive turn. La Quintinie, who benefited from being in the King's favor, made orchards and vegetable-growing fashionable; the use of spices was abandoned, and the star chefs of the day stigmatized "the old-fashioned and disgusting manner of preparing things" as being "gothic" cuisine. Food became an affair of state, in fact to such an extent that Vatel, who was responsible for the King's entertainment and his table during a visit to the Prince de Condé, chose suicide when his delivery of fish failed to materialize on time. Of course, such considerations only concerned nobility. Commoners for their part were starved as never before.
In the 18th century, the Regent took up quarters in Paris, far from the outdated etiquette of Versailles. Pleasure, once rejected by Madame de Maintenon because of her fear of eternal damnation, came back into fashion. The first restaurants appeared and caused a furor, making antiquated taverns and inns unstylish, too rugged for civilized tastes. The French Revolution brought an end to aristocratic privilege and introduced a relative democratization of manners. Alexandre Grimod de la Reynière, author of the Almanach des Gourmands, formed a jury of tasters and invented the food review. A little later, Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin's Physiology of Taste raised a veritable temple to the art of gastronomy. Both works placed culinary art and all that goes with it (wines, the order of serving dishes, table settings, conversations, table etiquette) at the center of French culture, and made Paris the arbiter of taste, in both senses of the word, in flavors and esthetics. La Reynière, in his Ecrits Gastronomiques, described the paradox thus: "Though Paris itself produces nothing, for not a grain of wheat grows there, not a single lamb is born there, not one cauliflower is harvested there, it is the center where everything from every corner of the globe lands, because it is the place where the respective qualities of all that man uses as food is most appreciated, and where such things are best transformed for our sensual pleasure." Brillat-Savarin declared: "Animals feed themselves; man eats; but only the wise man knows how to eat."
Opposite St. Lazare train station, the Brasserie Mollard is an Art Nouveau masterpiece. In the foreground, Scallops with Citrus Vinaigrette (see recipe on page 64).
An intimate aristocratic supper in the 18th century.
A typical scene in a bourgeois restaurant from days gone by, with the ceremonial carving of a calfs head, served with traditional sauce ravigote.
Today, cooking interests all people at every level of society. The poor may not eat like the rich, but the passion for food crosses the barriers of social class and everyone, aprt from those who eat only to survive, can develop the knowledge of food that results in real pleasure.
Paris today, like Paris in the 19th century, is unanimously a city of food lovers. Talk about food with a Parisian, in the street, at the bar of a cafe, or on a bus, and his eyes will light up, his attitude will soften, and his warmth will shine through. He could go on forever. He, for one, knows how to eat.
A Job for Connoisseurs
Preserving traditions and promoting innovation
Ever since the 14th century, French cuisine has been rigorously codified. Le Viandier (an anonymous work erroneously attributed to Taillevent, Head of the Royal Kitchens under Charles VI) and Le Ménagier de Paris (compiled from existing cookery books by an elderly Parisian bourgeois who aimed to teach his young wife the virtues of economy as well as cooking) were hugely successful and served as the benchmark for works up to the beginning of the 17th century.
Le Cuisinier Français by La Varenne, published in 1651, marked the birth of French haute cuisine. Ever since then, from Antonin Carême to Auguste Escoffier, from Curnonsky to Ginette Mathiot, the complex history of culinary techniques, fashions, and tastes has been woven by numerous authors, chefs, gourmets, critics, and housewives. Hardly a day passes it seems without a cookbook being published, or a chef writing his own.
All of this literature extends far beyond the daily requirements of most people, often into the realms of fiction. In the past, recipes included few if no details concerning quantities and preparation and cooking times, as can be seen in the recipe for Mock Sturgeon made from Veal. Today's cookbooks are not always more practical for the novice, either due to lack of experience—the best chefs are not necessarily the best teachers—or lack of time. Still, the vast array of culinary works that have been published have contributed greatly, just as much as the actual cooking and eating, to the aura of refinement that surrounds French cuisine.
ESTURGEON CONTREFAIT DE VEAU
(Mock Sturgeon made from Veal)
For six servings: either the night before or early in the morning, take six calves' heads, without skinning them. Scald them in warm water, as you would a pig, and then cook them in wine; add a mug of vinegar, salt and boil them until overripe meat falls from the bones. Then leave the heads to cool before boning. Then take a large piece of rough canvas, wrap it tightly round the heads, sew it up like a square pillow, place it between two planks and set a very heavy weight on top. Leave it standing like this all night. Cut into slices, removing the skin, as with venison, season with parsley and vinegar. Only two slices per serving,
Le Mênagier de Paris, circa 1393
Chartier, on the rue du Faubourg Montmartre is one of the few surviving examples of the celebrated bouillons in Paris. Opened in 1896, it has been declared a historical monument.
In Paris, the City of Lights, dining out is a must. In the 16th century, the courtiers of Henri III were already patronizing the Tour d'Argent, and Henri VI was most partial to their heron pate. This reputed hostelry, established in 1582, has since become a restaurant—one of the most famous in the world—and has moved from the ground floor up to the sixth. It is a shining example of the continuity of Parisian traditions.
The term "restaurant, “ which used to refer to a fortifying meat broth and, by analogy, the establishments which served it to their clients, acquired its modern meaning in 1765 when a certain Monsieur Boulanger proposed individual tables to his diners at his establishment on the rue du Louvre, as well as an extensive choice of dishes at fixed prices (including the famous broth). It was an outstanding success. In 1782, Antoine Beauvilliers, former chef to the Count of Provence (the future Louis XVIII) opened his Grande Taverne de Londres on rue de Richelieu, aimed at a refined clientele, following a model that had become highly popular in England. The whole of Paris society flocked to it and the establishment did not finally close its doors until 1925. At the time of the Revolution, Paris boasted less than 100 restaurants; a few years later there were more than 500, of which several still exist today. Their arrival proved to be the knockout blow for the various guilds that had formed during the Middle Ages (for example, caterers lost the privilege of being the sole vendors of cooked meat), while chefs of the various aristocrats who had fled into exile now switched their talents to altogether different customers. Public life experienced unprecedented growth. The two centuries that followed more than confirmed Monsieur Boulanger's intuition, and Paris now boasts some 10,000 establishments (though not all can be recommended, alas!). Although chefs, styles, and neighborhoods can be built up and then sent crashing down by the vagaries of fashion, restaurants remain essential and firmly embedded parts of Parisian culture and tradition,
