And the dishes to do it

The men’s Euros are over; heartbreak still rips at all nations bar one. The German beer has run dry, and the flame that cooked the bratwurst extinguished. ‘La Roja’ reigned supreme, but this is no time for a paella party. Undoubtedly, sport is never over for long.
Now transformed for sporting excellence, France sits centre stage as athletes and fans descend into its cities. The excitement is undeniable.
But it’s not football or athletics at the heart of this story; it’s food.
From a culinary perspective, the Olympics present a unique opportunity for France to shed its rigid, uptight culinary reputation and showcase their more approachable dishes.
The change is right there, within reach for the French. All they have to do is convince foreign sporting fans to taste, savour, and incorporate new dishes into their repertoire of recipes at home.
It’s as easy as that.
France’s reputation
For years, the French way has been the judge, jury and executioner for fine dining. For people like me who have worked in kitchens, it’s been the backbone of technical practice and culinary education.
As Michelin awarded their stars and made certain restaurants the focal point for the ‘best’ cuisine, something was lost — the honest, rustic starting point from which not only French food came but all cuisine.
With France hosting the Olympics and the incoming wave of excitable fans, now is the opportunity to extinguish the dank, uptight reputation of French cuisine.
This could be the ultimate food revival. The perfect showcase. It is France’s chance to shout from the rooftops and the stands to anyone who will listen.
From now on, let it be said that France does comfort food as well as the next. It sounds simple, and honestly, french cuisine has the prowess to back it up.
So, here are some of my favourites that redefine what it means to eat French food.
Beef bourguignon
It sounds so fancy, doesn’t it? At least, it did to me before I started culinary school, but it’s not. Essentially, it’s just a stew built on a foundation of cheap meat cuts, red wine and readily available European vegetables.
It’s become a staple of haute cuisine for a reason: it’s fantastic. Yet, it was originally a peasant dish, a way of tenderising tough cuts and utilising the vegetables on hand.
Speaking from experience, both Julia Child’s and the Larousse Gastronomique encyclopedia have excellent recipes that are enjoyable and replicable for a home cook. You can always wash it down with something red. Wine-searcher says,
The most poetic match for Beef Bourguignon is, without a doubt, a red Burgundy, given that both the dish and the wine hail from the same region.
Here is an interesting piece from National Geographic on the dish’s history if you’re like me, and that’s your thing.
Crêpes Bretonnes
Growing up in Canterbury, England, every Saturday on the main high street, there was a French crêpe food van. I still remember the smell as I’d turn the corner and see it sitting there proud, always with a queue of people waiting to eat.
Every time I have a crêpe, I’m transported back to those moments as a kid: staring up at the food van, too short to reach the counter, with hands outstretched like Oliver Twist.
You can have crêpes sweet or savoury. Personally, I like mine savoury, at which point they are called galettes. Maybe, with some bacon and a fried egg.
It really is the simple things in life.
Croque-monsieur
It’s just a cheese and ham toasty on steroids. You take a basic cheese and ham toasty, add some béchamel and cheese, and then give it the old gratiné- That’s the fancy French term for chucking something under the grill to get a beautiful crust.
So, a beautiful caramelised cheese crust on top of your already cheesy toasty — exactly like the top of your lasagna, but with bread, cheese and ham, need I say more?
Obviously, this is one of my favourites at home: you can use bread on the staler side of life and leftover béchamel from that lasagna you made the other day. Or, make up a load of béchamel and use it later on. It’s the kitchen equivalent of killing two birds with one stone.
It’s in my rotation because it’s so unpretentious and the epitome of comfort food on a budget. It’s adaptable and versatile. It doesn’t matter the season; it’s got its place.
Although, you can’t beat it tucked up on the sofa, rain pouring down your window, as you read the words of your favourite author. Last week, I accompanied mine with a summer shower and Steinbeck’s ‘East of Eden.’
Fondue
Fondue is contentious; I know, I know, it’s Swiss. But the original recipe was published in a French cookbook in the 18th century, so that’s how it’s made its way onto this list.
Regardless of the origins, it’s eaten en masse in France. Dipping bread or pouring melted cheese over potatoes is the pinnacle of comfort food and a thousand miles away from uptight dining.
It’s easy to make, and it’s the perfect dish for when you have guests around the table.
Are you starting to see the picture yet?
Oysters
Finally, Oysters and a white wine.
Okay, this one is a bit bougie, but initially, oysters were a humble meal eaten by people like you and me, scavenged, as opposed to served in Michelin-starred dining rooms with dress codes.
Unfortunately, they have become synonymous with fine dining, which has given them a bad name — as if, by association, people believe they aren’t for them — well, outside France, anyway.
As I write this, I’m staying on the western coast of France, just outside of Les Sables-d’Olonne. A five-minute walk from my accommodation is the mouth of an estuary- where you’ll find a cluster of huts selling oysters farmed right there in front of you.
The ‘restaurants’ are weathered and worn but busy. It’s my kind of experience. Freshly farmed, then shucked right there in those huts. Honestly, oysters are best when paired with a light, crisp, refreshing white wine. But don’t just take my word for it; why not give it a go with friends? Oysters are meant to be shared.

I’ve been to the waterfront oyster bars twice in five days. Both times, I was still wearing my wetsuit, with the torso and arms tied around my waist, and an old white T-shirt. My feet were covered in sand, and I had no shoes on. It’s casual; it isn’t fine dining, yet neither are the prices.
So, are you ready to give French food another go?
To me, food is about shedding preconceptions and ideas, thinking and feeling on our own. It’s about finding freshness in our food and ourselves, reliving sights and smells that transport you a thousand miles away, and the comfort and capricious nature that a full belly and freshly finished glass entail.
So, let’s ditch the duck à l’orange and, with it, our outdated notions. And, normalise trying some of these banging French recipes at home.
And, look, if this article becomes nothing else other than an excuse for you and your friends to drink wine and eat oysters together, it was worth every word.