Fishes with Funny French Names: The French Restaurant in London from the Nineteenth to the Twenty-First Century. By Debra Kelly

Abstract

My first thought on seeing this attractively presented book was to wonder why no one had tackled such an appetizing subject in such depth before. Here was an opportunity to produce a book that could be both academically fruitful — Debra Kelly is the co-editor of a pioneering book on the French in London, to which I should say I was a contributor — and also appeal to a non-academic readership. The title suggests that wider appeal is one of the author’s aims. How does the book succeed? It begins with a thorough Introduction that takes us through the standard works, including of course Barthes and Bourdieu. But the insights that these might offer — or not, as the case may be — do not shape the rest of the book, which is largely empirical and factual. It is not primarily a work offering a new analysis, and the author accepts the broad interpretations proposed by authors such as Amy Trubek and Stephen Mennell, for example that the impoverishment of British native cooking is partly due to the social dominance of French cuisine. Several plausible underlying themes emerge from the book: that French restaurants have been an important presence in London’s social life, both for the rich and the not-so-rich; that some individual establishments have been remarkably durable; that most have been ephemeral; and that the significance of French cuisine has changed from being a badge of superiority to one among many strands in a cosmopolitan and now informal (if expensive) restaurant scene. There are four broad chronological chapters covering the nineteenth century, the interwar period, the second half of the twentieth century, and the twenty-first century. The title of the final chapter, ‘Continuity and (R)Evolution’, jokily hints at the broad-brush nature of the argument. What the book mainly consists of is a comprehensive catalogue of London’s French restaurants over the last two hundred years, and of the people who owned, worked in, or ate in them. We find the big names, from Marie-Antoine Carême via Auguste Escoffier to Raymond Blanc, and a lot of less famous names too. Indeed, whole paragraphs, even whole pages, are given over to lists of names and addresses. For the nineteenth century, these come largely from the trade press, principally The Caterer. Similar sources are used for the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, with the addition of generous quotations from memoirs and biographies. The final sections read rather like an extended Sunday supplement feature, with ample treatment of celebrities, Michelin stars, and promotional events. In short, this is an accessible book but not one to be read from cover to cover. Better to start with the Index of Places, and look up your favourite French restaurant, or one you are thinking of trying. For this is a fascinating guidebook to history, fashion, and not least the pleasures of the table.