A Bite-Sized History of France: Delicious, Gastronomic Tales of Revolution, War, and Enlightenment
A review of A Bite-Sized History of France: Delicious, Gastronomic Tales of Revolution, War, and Enlightenment by Stephane Henaut and Jeni Mitchell
A Bite-Sized History of France: Delicious, Gastronomic Tales of Revolution, War, and Enlightenment by Stephane Henaut and Jeni Mitchell (2018). Published by The New Press.
This book was something I randomly stumbled upon in the history section of my library. And in these parts, the history section is in the deepest darkest corner because no one really goes back there.
You know what else is lumped back there? Poetry. My precious poetry is exiled to a distant back corner of a library, it’s truly tragic. Anyways, I wander deep into the history section when I feel like working my brain out and returning to my school days, since history was my favorite subject.
Lately, I’ve been very into food anthropology and history. When looking back at history we tend to only equate it to major events, such as the French Revolution, and tend not to think at the politics behind food unless it serves a specific role in causing an event.
But often we tend to ignore how often we went to war for spices, or how cuisines in contemporary history looked completely different in the distant past. For example, tomatoes are from the Americas, and so French and Italian cuisine wasn’t what we imagine today one thousand years ago.
This was an unexpected find in the French history portion of the aisle, but once I saw it, I knew I had to read it. Food history is absolutely my jam and this seemed like a perfect way to get my toes wet in older French history. I honestly didn’t know much about French history before picking this up, but felt that I had learned quite a bit general and food history combined in this little book.
Anyways, I’ve said a lot, so let’s begin this review!
Book Blurb
A French cheesemonger and an American academic join forces to serve up a sumptuous history of France and its food, in the delicious tradition of Anthony Bourdain, Peter Mayle, and Pamela Druckerman.
Nearly 3 million Americans visit France every year, in addition to the more than 150,000 American expatriates who live there. Numerous bestselling books attest to American Francophilia, to say nothing of bestselling cookbooks, like those of Julia Child and Paula Wolfert. Now, husband-and-wife team Stephane Henaut and Jeni Mitchell give us the rich history behind the food—from Roquefort and absinthe to couscous and Calvados. The tales in A Bite-Sized History of France will delight and edify even the most seasoned lovers of food, history, and all things French.
From the crêpe that doomed Napoleon to the new foods borne of crusades and colonization to the rebellions sparked by bread and salt, the history of France—from the Roman era to modern times—is intimately entwined with its gastronomic pursuits.
Traversing the cuisines of France’s most famous cities as well as its underexplored regions, this innovative culinary and social history includes travel tips; illustrations that explore the impact of war, imperialism, and global trade; the age-old tension between tradition and innovation; and the ways in which food has been used over the centuries to enforce social and political identities. A Bite-Sized History of France tells the compelling story of France through its food.
Content
First of all, I loved that this was written by an American-French couple (the husband is French and a self-declared cheese lover, while the wife is American), because that’s the kind of literary partnership we all love to see (as long as it’s healthy, of course).
You can kind of tell right off the bat that this is intended for a foreign audience, most likely an American and not a European, because some of the overview of general European history tends to be broader knowledge in many school systems. I didn’t know much of the French history before the 1780s, but I did know the general European history, so it got tedious to have that re-explained. But with the food context, it was fine.
The book tends to follow a general chronological order; we start with the Gauls and Romans and their influence on food. In these sections I found it absolutely fascinating about how when the Romans brought wine into France, they othered general tribes and non-Romans by saying they drank beer and were thus inferior. They also othered these people by describing the kinds of meats they ate; a trend we then trace throughout French history, because the noble classes would then use the same tactics.
The logic behind their reasoning is absolutely fascinating; the poor would eat plants that were largely grown under the soil, but the nobles refused to eat anything but plants that rose up and quote-on-quote reached for the sky. Butter was also deeply frowned upon in the Roman Empire era, since that was the time of olive oil. Which, if you know French food know, is something they cook with often.
I also liked that upfront the book declares that a national French cuisine, one that is truly French, is impossible to claim in an era with increasing intolerance towards outside groups (particularly Muslims in France). The book then goes on to prove this point by laying out example after example of foods and drinks that originated outside of France and were adopted by the French people.
We see how trade laid to foundations to developing a national food identity that has been claimed by a ruling class with power throughout French history, which is very similar to the histories of many countries that colonized other nations. In the contemporary era, we see this vehement French rejection of the outside food culture of McDonalds, but, as our writers explain to us, France is the second biggest consumer of McDonalds in the world.
We also bring in the complicated question of religion into this equation. We have many chapters dedicated to the monks of the French countryside who often made their own cheeses, as well as Popes that had vineyards and sold wines, which many would be confused by. Aren’t Pops supposed to abstain from such drinks? And wouldn’t one typically frown upon a Pope engaging in such capitalistic actions? Not in the old days baby. There were no rules in the wild west.
One of the big highlights in this book is the discussion about French cheese. Absolutely am here for the pages upon pages of describing what seems to be hundreds of different types of cheeses.
Overall Thoughts
I think this is a fun and good primer into French history and gastronomy. Is it the catch-all book? No, but if you’re passionate about food or want an unorthodox way to learn French history, this is the book for you. I found the writing to be quite smooth and not boring at all, so if you’re vaguely interested in the topic it’ll fly by.
It’s over three hundred pages, but without citations it’s more like 270. It’s also not something you would sit and read within one sitting, because history isn’t something entertaining. You need to read this in bursts to let it stick—I recommend savoring it with some wine and brie just to amp up the vibes.
