But wait. Isn’t fine French food supposed to be, well, French? And what could that be, really, if not intimately tied to the particularities of French soil, that magical terroir, and a culture that venerates every nuance and grace note France’s good earth can provide? So it once was, and so might it be again. At a time when globalized chefs and fusion cooking hold out the promise of a weirdly rootless international haute cuisine—an era when an oyster may be flown thousands of miles from its tidal bed to its culinary destiny—some French chefs are turning back to the hectares and history of their native land.
None is more noted than Michel Bras, 60. His eponymous 3-star restaurant outside the town of Laguiole deep in the cattle pastures and forests of Aubrac, is about as authentic a slice of la France profonde, the French hinterland, as you can find. The region’s known as a green desert because so many people abandoned it over the last century to go to the cities, often to work in cafés and restaurants. Those who remain do so with a fierce attachment.
Bras is the son of a blacksmith and a woman who made extra money home-cooking for a local clientele. “We have no former gastronomic history,” says Bras. “One ate to not die from hunger.” Self-taught, he has found original ingredients by perusing old seed catalogs for hints to the ingredients used in past centuries. He combs the fields for blossoms, herbs and roots, whatever catches his eye (or nose) and excites him. Bras discovered sweet meadow flowers growing on the plateaus of his local Aubrac hills that now lend their fragrance to a unique ice cream. Juniper berries drew his attention on a winter walk near Millau and became a staple in a seasonal sauce served with cabbage and oranges. The beef, too, comes from Aubrac. Vegetables are from his own garden or grown by local farmers. Cheeses are local, too.
World-renowned food critic and author Patricia Wells doesn’t knock the global reach of some great French chefs, even in Las Vegas, where “Nothing is local!” But few excite her like those with firm roots in the terroir. “What keeps France strong,” she says, “is its sense of tradition and respect for the land.” That does not mean there can be no innovation or forward movement, she adds. What it does mean, though, is that when it comes to French cooking, there’s really no place like home.
