Quote:
Originally Posted by MolsonExport
If Catherine de Medici's chefs incorporated Italian cooking styles using local ingredients or to suit local tastes, it was definitely fusion, just a long time ago. So said my 'ancestors' in academia, at least. The notion that France is somehow immune from fusion cuisine is just bizarre.
Paella Marseille
Beninese Ragout
Matcha Eclair
Duck Confit Tacos
Japanese Duck à l’Orange
Swordfish Brochettes with Basil and Harissa
Green chili eggs Benedict
Lamb Tagine
Vietnamese Crepe
Raclette Quesadilla
French Tacos
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Again, as opposed to you, my knowledge of this is not just theoretical or read in history books, but I have actually studied the expenses of one princely court of France in the 16th century (plus also the expenses of Marguerite de Valois, the daughter of Catherine de Médicis), which list in great detail all the food their courts consumed day by day, and I'm sorry but there's nothing Italian in it that can be seen. You see a few exotic stuff sometimes (most noticeably "poules d'Inde", aka turkeys, which is the one exotic stuff that I recall), but by and large it remains very very French food.
Of course new ingredients entered European cuisine, but that's not the same thing as fusion. Just because you start using tomatoes or drink chocolate doesn't mean it's "fusion". French cuisine didn't become a fusion of French and Aztec cuisines, it remained French cuisine, with just a few new ingredients (the Aztec did not even consume chocolate the way the Europeans did).
Last year at the National Library of France I found this original handwritten letter in a stack of documents I was exploring, written in the 1580s by a low-ranking aristocratic lady to a low-ranking aristocratic man living in a rural château near the city of Vendôme in Northern France. Pray tell me where is the fusion there? It's just so quintessentially French. I wrote it down because it shocked me how similar to us those French from 440 years ago were in their relish for (French) food.
"Monsieur, ayant reçu un remerciement qui vous est dû des pâtés que vous m'avez fait la faveur de me donner, je ne veux point manquer à vous en rendre action de grâces. L'on me mande qu'il en a été fait part à beaucoup de la grand ville qui ont bu à ma santé, mais ce devait être à la vôtre, et dit le discours que jamais l'on n'a mangé rien de si tendre et de si bien assaisonné. Ces grands remerciements m'en font vous en rendre un semblable, non de cela seulement, mais de tous vos autres bienfaits. Ne pouvant rien présentement de revanche, vous n'aurez de moi que ce que de longue main vous est acquis, et ma très dévotieuse volonté à vous faire tout le service qui me sera possible, en la qualité que je suis qui est etc."
This was right in the middle of the French Religious Wars, and yet people were obsessing about a good pâté just as we still do today.

Which shows that we should take history books with a certain grain of salt, because if you believe the history books France in the 1580s was a place of massacres, carnages and awful intolerance, and yet this letter sounds as homely and interested in mundane stuff as it would in the Enlightened 18th century. It's also interesting how people frankly didn't write so differently from today (whereas Shakespeare's English, which is contemporary of this letter, is pretty different from today's English, to the point of being hard to understand for many people).