A Woman Finds Comfort in French Food

Ann Mah’s ‘Mastering the Art of French Eating: Lessons of Food and Love from a Year in Paris’ is a tale one journalist’s culinary experiences in France. A self-proclaimed “foodie and Francophile,” it’s something out of a dream when Mah’s husband is given a three-year diplomatic assignment in France. However, when her husband is suddenly reassigned to Iraq for a year-long solo assignment, it’s up to Mah to make the best of her time in France on her own.

Instead of wallowing, she takes full reign of the opportunities France has in store for her and embarks on her own adventures, exploring the region through food and the culture surrounding French cuisine. Much like Julia Child, another diplomatic wife, Mah takes hold of what France has to offer and finds fun, comfort, and flavor. From croissants to cheese, to fancy wine and homemade comfort food with a French twist, Ann Mah’s book will delight with tales of travel, friendship, food, and France.

An Excerpt from Mastering the Art of French Eating

Every andouillette enthusiast I met in Troyes – and I met many – wanted to be the person who convinced me that andouilette is delicious. “A lot of people don’t want to try it because of the smell,” Dominique said to me. “The secret is in the quality of the products. If they’re fresh, there’s no smell at all.”

I definitely smelled something, though. We were in the factory’s laboratory, and Dominique and an employee, Pascal, had just shown me their method for cutting tripe and stomach. My time had come. When Dominique offered to slice up some rounds of chilled andouillette, I knew I couldn’t avoid it any longer. “It’s easier to taste it cold,” he said. “When it’s hot, the flavor is much stronger.”

Cut horizontally, the andouillette had a marbled effect, rosy with swirls of white and dark pink. Dominique offered me the plate, and I tried to summon the enthusiasm of my andouillette-loving friends in Paris. “Eating it makes me feel connected to France,” said Guillaume, a Frenchman I met at a dinner party who had spent most of his childhood in the United States. “Like I’m part of the history and the terroir.”

“Chunky goodness – comme il faut,” said another friend, Sylvain.

Salty Taste

With the eyes of Dominique and Pascal upon me, I bit into a slice. It tasted salty, highly spiced with pepper and nutmeg, similar to bologna. I started chewing, and the sausage squished between my teeth, at once soft yet cartilaginous, like a stretched-out rubber band. Dominique looked at me expectantly.

“C’est pas mal!” I said. And really, the flavor was quite inoffensive. The slippery, ropy, chewy texture, however, seemed to encapsulate the very essence of tripe. I thought of the vat of intestines soaking on the factory floor and forced myself to swallow. The second bite was harder.

Dominique proffered the plate again. “Another piece?”

“Non, merci,” I said, feeling a bit sheepish.

That night I met a local blogger, Celine Camoun, for dinner at Au Jardin Gourmand, a small restaurant in the town’s historic center.

A friend of a friend had introduced us. “Oh, you’re going to Troyes? My sister’s best friend’s friend lives there. I’m sure she would be delighted to show you around.” And she was.

Fier d’etre francais, et puis fier de ma region – this was a sentence I heard over and over again while traveling France. Proud to be French, and then proud of my region.

Not a Andouilette Lover

As a Troyes local, Celine would be an andouillette enthusiast, I figured. Not so. “Je deteste ca,” she told me after we’d exchanged cheek kisses. “My mother and my cousins love it, but I can’t stand the smell.”

We installed ourselves at a table in the cozy, book-lined room. Celine had selected the restaurant because it specialized in andouillette, and indeed the menu read like an encyclopedia of the stuff, with eleven preparations, some simply grilled or pan-fried, others with complex cream and cheese sauces, one with a crown of foie gras.

“I think I’ll have the steak,” said Celine.

Jacques Lebois, the restaurant’s owner, approached our table. “My friend is an American. She’s researching andouillette,” Celine told him.

“Oh, I love introducing foreigners to andouillette,” said Lebois, clasping his hands and practically rubbing them together with glee. “Do you know the story of andouilette de Troyes?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so, no.” Anyway, I didn’t know his version of the story.

“During the Middle Ages,” he began, “the town was under siege and surrounded by soldiers camped outside the city walls. Eventually, when there was nothing left to eat except tripe, people started making andouilette. The soldiers were so enchanted by the smell that they declared, ‘We’ll let you out as long as we can have some of what you’re eating!”

The three of us laughed. Behind Lebois a waiter passed carrying an armful of plates, all of them laden with fat andouillettes in a creamy sauce. The whiff was unmistakable.

“Are you ready to order?” Lebois produced a pen.

Celine ordered a steak, and then Lebois turned to me with a gleam in his eye. “May I suggest the andouillette with Fromage de Chaource perhaps?” he said. “Or poached in white wine? That’s also excellent.”

“I think I’ll have…” They both looked at me expectantly. “The grilled salmon,” I said eventually.

“Pas d’andouillette?” cried Lebois. He turned to Celine. “She doesn’t want to order andouillette?”

“Well, she’s been tasting it all day,” Celine said kindly. “She probably doesn’t want to overdo it.”

I could tell he was thinking, Is that even possible? Nonetheless, he brought me the grilled salmon. I have to admit, I enjoyed every bite.

Ann Mah is a journalist and the author of Kitchen Chinese: A Novel About Food, Family, and Finding Yourself. Her articles have appeared in The New York Times, Conde Nast Traveler, The Huffington Post, Washingtonian, and South China Morning Post, and BonAppetit.com. In 2005, she was awarded a James Beard Foundation culinary scholarship. Mah currently splits her time between Paris and New York City, but she loves eating everywhere.

Buy this book on Amazon Mastering the Art of French Eating: Lessons of Food and Love from a Year in Paris.

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