Even Macron can see that the era of French food is over
If Kim Jong-un had made the announcement I wouldn’t have been incredulous. Yet it was not the Supreme Leader of North Korea who this week declared the foundation of “a training centre of excellence for all the culinary industry”, one that would offer “training for major competitions and preparing [chefs] as athletes to win prizes on behalf of [their country]”.
No, it was poor, beleaguered President Macron. He was in Lyon and, with an eye on next year’s presidential election, was addressing the International Catering, Hotel and Food Trade Fair. Macron wants to galvanise chefs and others in the French hospitality industry, to make them feel proprietorial and patriotic about French cuisine, and in doing so win some votes.
But beneath the rhetoric, has Macron admitted something that many have long suspected? By announcing the creation of a new epicurean “centre of excellence” is he not letting slip a fact that terrifies so many in France – namely that their country is no longer the culinary champion of the world?
After all, if a nation is truly great at something, it hardly needs to launch an academy to teach people how to do it. Macron’s speech was the white flag of gastronomic surrender, an admission that France’s chefs, ingredients, traditions and tastes have been overtaken.
This defeat has been a long time coming. Over the past few decades, the country’s food traditions have been attacked and usurped on all sides. There’s been the advance in interest in all things Asian – think China, Indonesia, Japan, Thailand, Malaysia, India.
It is from this huge region that young cheffing talent gets much inspiration and ingredients; far from putting jus, confits or cream sauces on their menus, the buzz has been for dumplings, spices, kimchi, wasabi, and fermented pastes such as gochujang or sashimi.
Then there is the invasive beast of the supermarket. Pity the poor provincial French market trader selling his local and seasonal produce in the centre of a little town knowing that there’s a Lidl or Aldi offering ample parking, 24-hour convenience and pizza a couple of miles away. Not to mention the fact that even French supermarkets such as Carrefour and Monoprix these days offer a shopping experience that is more American than traditionally Gallic.
France has also been left behind in some of the seismic food trends of recent years. As anyone who has ever visited an iconic French restaurant will know, vegetables are featured only as a decorative excuse on the plate; a tiny slice of carrot at the outer reaches of your hare à la Royale. The plant-based revolution has left that for dust. When the Bordeaux-based vegan restaurant ONA won a Michelin star earlier this year you could almost hear the sacré bleu uttered by the French culinary establishment.
Since the 1970s, food has been democratised. Eating out is an everyday habit. And across the Channel the Brits have made a virtue of this: London, for example, has a far greater variety of cuisine at all prices than Paris – and that appeals to the modern diner.
Macron’s attempt to shut the stable door after the horse has bolted might be valiant – but he may yet find that the French culinary establishment don’t want him to “apprendre à un vieux singe à faire des grimaces”, as they’d say in a bouchon in Lyon.