The Food of France

The only downside to this magnificent survey is the coverage of wines, but after all , the title is the FOOD of France!

I love this book! It details closely all the food and food trends in France region by region.Worth every penny 👏🏼

It is a little bit heavy and hard going, but It is exceptionally detailed. I prefer the smaller format of the older books (~10 years ago) as It doesn't take too much space up on the coffee table. And that's how I treat this, read it a little at a time. If you are dedicated to French Gastronomy then it's a good purchase, but perhaps if you can get a copy of "Master pieces of French cuisine" that would be a better investment.

Requires persistence with the level of detail contained in it and the historical perspective, will take another lifetime to experience it all

I moved to Europe in the late 70s when Waverly Root still wrote on food, culture and life-in-general for the International Herald Tribune. At that time he was already advanced in age and had in fact invested much of the 20th century learning what makes the French who they are. This book represents a bit of the old way of perceiving France as the leading culinary and viticultural thought-leader of its time (a vision which persisted into the Kennedy years, but not far beyond). A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then, and nouvelle cuisine and nouveau monde wines have changed the way sophisticated people think about food and drink.Nonetheless, the book -- the details, the imagery, the culinary analysis, the richness of the language, the enthusiasm -- remains an extraordinary vital resource on French cuisine. Whether you are an expert on France, or merely curious, Root gives you the lowdown on what grows where, how it is transformed into food, and what local people might drink with it. All within the rich context of French history and geography.Breathtakingly clear, Root divides Gaul into three parts: those that cook with butter, those that cook with olive oil, and those who cook with lard and goose fat. It is a simple and coherent framework which allows the reader to immediately comprehend the inherent differences in regional cuisines.In short, even if you know French food well, you will certainly find something insightful and amusing in this book.

This is one of my favorite books about French cuisine. In fact, it is one of my favorite books period. Root's prose is elegant and charming, and the information is highly interesting. The book has no plot or story (it simply goes from one region of France to the next, explaining the characteristic foods, wines, and preparations of that area), and it has no pictures, and none of the "recipes" are written as such--they are merely descriptions of how the dish is prepared. But even so the book is incredibly compelling, beautifully written, and very fun to read. For a companion volume (with pictures and recipes), I would recommend Samuel Chamberlain's "Bouquet de France: An Epicurean Tour of the French Provinces."

Now finishing my second reading of this tremendous book, all the while suspecting that Waverly Root was really a well-disguised poseur and not really the erudite man-of-the-world he appears to have been, I have to finally admit that, in addition to being one hell of a fine writer, he must also have been one of the most broadly-informed gourmands ever. True, occassional anecdotes and opinions of his betray the fact that the book was originally published 50 years ago, but the scope and intimacy of his knowledge with pretty much every provincial outpost, grand boulevard, and Basque backwater in France is astounding. I suspect he read and took to heart the 1950s edition of the Larousse Gastronomique, since many of the culinary practices he describes hardly deviate from what the Great Book says, but he provides so many examples of eating experiences that could be nothing but first-hand that I have to conclude that he actually DID spend his 30+ years in France doing little but travelling, eating, and drinking. These culinary expeditions are a treasure now: many of the regions he sampled so amply have been globalized to oblivion. His enthusiastic, almost childlike [but, nonetheless, world-wise] forays into the Haut Pyrenees, for example, record a local tradition of farmhouse cooking that is no more. But he was no mere chronicler of foods: his essays are leavened with witty, insightful, broadly-informed and fascinating anecdotes and contextual notes geographical, historical, literary, and agricultural. In this sense, I believe he was one of the pioneers of the broad, anectdotal form of journalism that remains perhaps the most effective means of presenting the world to an armchair audience. I have to forgive his peculiarities. Even his apparent contempt for Champagne seems inconsequential when I read his descriptions of travelling into darkest Corsica, sampling the wild, unrefined local wines, and immediately perceiving their perfect suitability to the food of the region. I am not aware of any other food and wine writer from that era who so heartily insisted on describing food and wine as a marriage. He wrote 20 years before Richard Olney brought his own sophistications to the table, and, understood in this context, his predilections must have been radical at the time.I urge you to read this book with a willingness to forgive the occassional signs of age. They are few and forgivable. Please savor the writing, with its erudition, lovely sense of timing and flow, gentle humor and enthusiasm. Please also consider it as the eloquent indictment of globalization that it is. To read a book written in the uncritical heyday of postwar American optimism and to find in it laments that the old world was slipping away, a victim of commerce and centralized policymaking, is a poignant experience indeed. This book is an education like few others.

Maybe it's because I've spent more time in Italy, but while interesting, I didn't enjoy this book quite as much as I did his "The Food of Italy". Your reaction might be different of course.