A Revolution in Taste: The Rise of French Cuisine.
Brennan, Thomas
A Revolution in Taste: The Rise of French Cuisine. By Susan Pinkard
(Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. xv plus 317
pp.).
The history of food has become a vast and eclectic enterprise.
After counting calories with the demographers and studying diet with
social historians, food historians turned to the semiotics of settings,
the identity of terroir, and the culture of cuisine. By any of these
standards, Susan Pinkard's A Revolution in Taste is hard to
classify. It begins with a striking argument about the "revolution
in taste" promised by the title and ends with an extensive appendix
of recipes. In between there is much history of food and its
preparation, of meals and their consumption, as well as the science and
techniques of cooking. The combination is somewhat awkward, yet the
individual ingredients are often fascinating and the historical
discussions offer a compelling framework for integrating the history of
food into its social and cultural context.
The book begins with a brief overview of medieval cooking that
emphasizes its complexity, even confusion, of ingredients and flavors.
Reinforced by classical theories of diet, the medieval meal tended
towards meat and few or no vegetables, in recipes that combined the
sweet, pungent, and perfumed with as much artifice as the consumer could
afford. The book then turns to two French texts, Le Cuisinier francois
by La Varenne and Les Delices de la campagne by Nicolas de Bonnefons,
written in the middle of the seventeenth century that launched the
culinary revolution. A lengthy discussion of the recipes found in these
books, and even more of the way they talked about the foods that formed
their ingredients, makes the point that these two writers now wanted
gastronomy to focus on the natural taste of foods. They devoted their
primary attention to describing the range of meats, fish, vegetables,
and sauces that an attentive cook needed to understand in order to
prepare them as they deserved.
Pinkard, too, devotes a great deal of attention to these recipes,
to an extent that will warm a cook's heart but may leave the
historian puzzled. Since the analytical core of this book is a dozen or
so cookbooks, however, the recipes are texts that the author parses for
all they can yield. She even reproduces many of them for the modern cook
at the end of the book. The chemical analysis of sauces, the technology
of cooking, the genealogy of recipes are all discussed in elaborate
detail. Sometimes they illustrate the dramatic changes in French cuisine
during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, but some of this seems
like an unnecessary distraction.
Far more pertinent and persuasive is the author's effort to
explain this revolution. Pinkard points to the Parisian elites'
conquest of the city's exurbs during the seventeenth century and
their consequent access to fresh food from their own lands. In a chapter
that reviews the social history of Bourbon Paris, Pinkard is able to
show how the supply of fresh ingredients, coming particularly from the
rural properties of Parisian elites, combined with a new culture of
civility and "honnetete" to redefine eating and dining. This
was a revolution in refinement that emerged not at the court but amongst
the urban milieu that was redefining social hierarchies. Their
replacement of the formal banquet with the intimate supper brought with
it changes in the shape of the table and, with it, the kinds of foods,
courses, and service that defined the meal. Thus, "Innovative
cooking in the second half of the seventeenth century continued to be
intimately linked to the dinner party."[126]
Cooking, or at least cookbooks, in the late seventeenth century
also became more systematic in the preparation of recipes and so, by
"demystifing" the new cuisine, spread it to a larger audience.
Although more systematic, the cooking was still quite elaborate, thus
limiting its appeal to modest households or, apparently, to the English.
It also lost favor in some elite French circles in the eighteenth
century, as cookbooks promoted a "new" cuisine of simplicity.
The century of changes in raw culinary materials, their preparation
and presentation contributed to an aesthetic revolution, an embrace of
authenticity in taste but also, Pinkard argues, in other parts of life.
Thus she follows the revolution into the eighteenth century where it
echoed in Enlightenment debates about art, nature, and luxury. The trend
towards simplicity in cuisine could give Rousseau yet more ammunition
with which to criticize the artifice of civilization. "Food that
tasted like what it was had become a symbol of freedom and
authenticity."[236] Pinkard also finds the triumph of natural taste
reproduced in the realm of drink, particularly as innovations in the
preparation and preservation of fine wine allowed for more complex and
distinctive flavors. Presumably the new colonial beverages that pervaded
elite society also demonstrated a taste for strong, distinctive flavors,
though she does not make this point in her discussion of them. The
analysis here is less focused than earlier ones, and the argument is
less pointed.
On the other hand, such a comment probably misses the real aim, and
the real audience, of the book. Much of the material covered in this
book is a synthesis, known already to those who work in the field.
Clearly it is aimed at a wider audience that is not so familiar, that
enjoys the details as much as, or more than, the thesis. For them, the
50 pages of recipes at the end will bring this subject alive in ways
that few historians can.
Thomas Brennan
United States Naval Academy