Paris cuisine

During my recent trip to the book store, I decided to satisfy my word palate by perusing the cookbooks. I am quite aware that the pages of books are hardly edible and pictures of good food will hardly do anything but exacerbate hunger and craving, but I find a sort of solace in the pages of cookbooks. Each plate is described with a palette of rich and savoury words, each appetizer resting on a bed of lucious, fresh adjectives. Just looking at colorful food brings tears to my eyes. Food is poetry. And I love great poetry (especially when it’s garnished with a sprinkling of parsley and served with a tasty culinary style).

On this particular visit to the cookbook section of my favorite independent bookstore, I decided to browse the international cookbooks. A self-proclaimed francophile, I was immediately drawn to the books on French cuisine. Some people say that French cuisine is the foundation on which all fine cuisine is based. I happen to disagree but I still enjoy French cookbooks because they are oftentimes filled with pictures of French people taking grand pleasure in eating. I also love seeing pictures of open-air markets with rows of fresh produce crying out, “Eat me!” From the comfort of the local bookstore, I was taken on a journey into culinary France across the countryside and into the terroir (or soil), the origine of all rustic French cuisine.

The French do, after all, have an certain attachment to their soil/land/earth (however you would like to translate terroir) in a way that usually escapes Americans. It is from the land that all good things come. In fact, each region in France defines itself not only by its culture and traditions, but also by the foods it produces. The local products are then used (with great care) to create local specialties that are savored and enjoyed (with much pleasure). French cuisine is enrobed in this tradition, this attention and attachement to the land and soil. It’s the passion for the terroir that gives French cuisine its classic touch. And this passion makes for some good lunchtime cookbook browsing.

French cooking being based largely on regional specialties de terroir, I was quite suprised (or rather bemused) to find a fairly large selectin of books about Paris cooking. Does Paris even have a terroir? What do people believe to be Parisian specialties, anyway? There is, of course, the soggy, onion-y broth (or French Onion Soup) that some people often crown the must-taste specialty of Paris or the classic steak-frites with poorly cooked steak, mediocre fries and if you are lucky, a few overy cooked (and thus, smushy) string beans. These so-called specialties don’t really even have Parisian origins. What soil there once was has been paved or built over. True, there are a few gardens on Parisian rooftop terrace and Montmartre prides itself not only for its white basilica on the hill, but also for its “vineyard” which boasts the famous “Clos Montmartre” wine (which apparently very few people have actually tasted); but in truth, mostly everything in Paris (including many Parisians) comes from other parts of the country.

So why this interest in Paris’ cuisine? The thing is that every part of France seems to converge on Paris in some way. Paris concentrates (for better or for worse) every region, every terroir, every specialty in France (and elsewherem it would seem). And while the crepes made at a crepe vendor in Paris may pale in comparision with the crepes in Brittany or Normandy, you can have your crepes in Paris, you can have your choucroute, your bouillabaisse, your quiche lorraine. Paris offers variety. Paris, with its name and renown, also seems to attact a certain number of budgeoning chefs. With innovative chefs comes innovative cuisine. True Parisian cuisine is based on invention, bringing together the tradition and the rich terroir and adding a certain flare and spice. It is about taking the influences of the urban landscape and transforming it into something that makes your tastebuds dance with pleasure.

So the verdict: did the Parisian cookbooks offer inventive recipes that incorporated French terroir? Unfortunately, with the exception of a few books about luxury restaurants in the city, the Paris cookbooks were hardly refreshing. Most of the books offered recipes for the classic bistrot dishes: croque-monsieur, (la fameuse) soupe a l’oignon, an omlette here and there and the occasional quiche. Apparently, Paris cuisine means bistrot cuisine, means mediocre fare. I guess if you want a mishmash of classic French fare, you can throw the umbrella term ‘Paris cuisine’ over it, but what a waste.

However lacking the French cookbooks were, they still offered a certain solace to a foodie like me. The photos are always beautiful and there is nothing better than seeing images of people, fork and knife in hand, taking great pride and pleasure in eating. It still brings a smile to my face.