PARIS — A product manager in the fashion industry, Juliette François discovered her severe gluten intolerance at the age of 14. While she does not have celiac disease, a few traces of gluten can give her serious digestive problems. Yet this doesn’t stop the now 24-year-old from going to restaurants.
“I warn the restaurant when I book and order,” she says. “I’m always a bit apprehensive, even if bad experiences are rare. I recently got sick from a pizza that was certified gluten-free, but I think my order got mixed up.”
François is one of an increasing number of French people who now dare to ask chefs to pay attention to their specific dietary needs, whether they have severe allergies, intolerances, sensitivities (that are more or less proven), aversions or avoidances, diets, or taste preferences.
The list of offending ingredients is long: gluten, lactose, peanuts, eggs, nuts, shellfish, seafood, shellfish and fish, celery, soybeans, sulfites, sesame, lupins, garlic, onions, fruits from the rosaceae family (pears, apples, peaches, cherries, apricots, etc.) or so-called latex fruits (kiwis, bananas, avocados, chestnuts, etc.).
And let’s not forget dietary restrictions for vegetarians, vegans, pregnant women and due to religion.
What used to be an exception is becoming more commonplace. Yet it seems French restaurants may be lagging. “I feel more comfortable abroad, in the UK, Italy, Spain or Hungary, where I used to live. There, they’re more likely to ask spontaneously if I have any allergies, so they can give me advice. It’s easier than in France, where I’m sometimes afraid, even ashamed, of being a nuisance,” François says.
For sociologist Claude Fischler, it’s also a question of culture and history. “Eating together symbolically creates a community of destiny and belonging. From a French Catholic perspective, it’s seen as ‘communion.'” At the table, between the guests and the host, behavior stems from the relationship with others. ‘To eat ‘with’ is to eat ‘as’, to share. In France, we hesitate to assert our differences.
“‘The Protestant tradition, on the other hand, places greater emphasis on individual freedom and responsibility. The meal is an agreement of wills, a contract, a negotiation. You are accountable for your decisions,” Fischler says.
Despite these cultural elements, a shift seems to be underway in the world of French gastronomy.
Knowing how to negotiate is essential
“A good quarter of our customers have specific requests. And there can be several very different requests at the same table,” says Louis Rameau, chef at Jardin de Berne, the Michelin-starred restaurant at Château de Berne hotel in Provence.
“The past 10 years have seen a real revolution. Before, we rarely heard about cases of gluten or lactose intolerance, but now it’s frequent. And the range of requests is surprisingly wide, particularly with fruit and vegetables. The most recent example was an allergy to figs,” says Florent Piard, founder of Les Résistants, a small Parisian catering group committed to eco-responsible eating.
Sébastien Piniello, executive chef at Hélianthal, the restaurant at the Thalazur Hotel in Saint-Jean-de-Luz, counts an average of four or five gluten-free, lactose-free or vegetarian customers and a wide variety of other special requirements for his hundred or so covers. In the same Basque town, Benjamin Torezzan, chef at the Xaya gourmet restaurant, notes that while gluten and lactose rer 95% of requests, the remaining 5% are not the easiest to manage.
The impact of industrial society
“There’s clearly been a change. People are paying more and more attention to what they eat,” says Romain Meder, former executive chef of the three-star Alain Ducasse au Plaza Athénée restaurant in Paris, and who now heads the Michelin-starred Les Chemins du Domaine de Primard, southwest of the French capital.
Sociologist Claude Fischler has been studying this phenomenon, which has complex roots, for many years. “Over time, we’ve moved from mistrust to distrust. There is a more aggressive attitude linked to an anxious rejection of highly processed and junk foods, which has led to anger, rejection and boycotts. What people reject are the “extras,” additives in food products, which partly explain their quest for ‘no,’ for ‘without,'” says the author of numerous works and books on human nutrition, including Les Alimentations particulières.
“People have become aware of the link between health and food, and are increasingly vigilant about what goes on their plates,” says Bernard Boutboul, chairman of the Gira food industry consultancy. A man of figures and studies, he estimates the level of specialized requests at 15% across the board.
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Contradictory orders
Boutboul also points out that France is one of the world’s biggest consumers of pizzas, burgers and café gourmands (an espresso served with a selection of small desserts) — all of which are packed with gluten, sugar and fat.
Fischler says this paradox can be explained. “There is a deep, archaic connection with the omnivorous identity of the human species. This gives rise to contradictory injunctions: We are both free to make our own choices and obliged to vary our diet. Otherwise, we run the risk of becoming deficient. But at the same time, we have to be wary, so as not to risk poisoning ourselves. We like variety, we need it, but we’re afraid of it,” says the sociologist, who attributes this process to rapid social change.
“When I was a child in the 1950s, there was no question of expressing any aversion. It was frowned upon. You stayed in front of your plate until you’d finished it,” Fischler says.
“Since then, things have relaxed. In the early 2000s, when people asked what a ‘well-behaved’ child was, the consensus was no longer a child who ‘eats everything’ but ‘tastes everything.’ Tolerance has increased, and the individual is more and more the focus. It’s a sign of the times that we’ve gone from ‘eat what you’re given’ to ‘give me what I eat.'”
Distinguishing the truth from lies
On a more prosaic level, chefs are obliged to deal with this on a daily basis without too much fuss.
“It’s complicated to distinguish between genuinely allergic customers and others. More and more requests have to do with comfort and taste rather than health risks. And it can be a real headache when you have to work hard to respect the choice of a gluten-free customer who is going to choose a pastry dessert or croissants for breakfast the next morning,” says Jean-Paul Acker, the young executive chef at La Cheneaudière, a 5-star Relais & Châteaux in Alsace.
But for the customer, saying “I’m allergic” rather than “I don’t like it” is also a way of saying “take me seriously, this isn’t a whim” and cutting short any questioning of their choices. So chefs have to deal with it, and find the right level of response. “We can’t afford the slightest mistake,” Torezzan says. And there is always a latent risk.
We’re here to offer an exceptional experience, not to make people sick or, even worse, to kill them.
“When I was at Loiseau des Ducs in Dijon, a customer who ordered “lactose free” asked at the end of the meal to taste “a bit” of [cream-filled] Saint-Honoré cake. But on another occasion, someone went into convulsions because were traces of cream in an emulsion’, says Louis-Philippe Vigilant, chef at the legendary Relais Bernard Loiseau in Saulieu, Burgundy. “This responsibility puts enormous pressure and stress on us. We’re here to offer an exceptional experience, not to make people sick or, even worse, to kill them,” he adds.
Les Résistants’ Piard says he has “compassion for the people who really do suffer from allergies or proven intolerances and are forced to deal with them. Serious cases are rare, but they do provide an opportunity to raise awareness and find solutions.”
“In one of my previous restaurants, a young pastry chef casually added peanuts to a recipe,” recalls Frédéric Grobost, co-owner of Xaya. “A customer got angioedema, and we had to call the emergency services. Here, I have a kit to deal with a mild allergy, swelling and even anaphylactic shock,” says this former analysis laboratory owner.
The ever-present risk of accident
But the devil can sometimes be in the detail: take, for example, a gluten-free dish mixed up in a restaurant in Hendaye when the waiter was not the one who took the order; or the commis who added a few breadcrumbs to a tomato gazpacho “to make it creamier” even though the allergen was not mentioned on the menu.
Finally, La Cheneaudière’s Acker notes the difficulties associated with certain dishes that use many ingredients: “There are up to 40 in our lobster bisque!”
To avoid incident, collecting and transmitting information is essential: from order-taking through the kitchen to the return of the plate to the customer. That, for the most part, is where additional costs are incurred, weighing on service, which is more complex to manage both in the dining room and in the kitchen. Knowing how to “negotiate” is also a important.
“Being able to distinguish between genuine, harmful intolerance and that which is a matter of comfort or dictated by the sound advice of a naturopathic cousin is crucial for us,” Hélianthal’s Piniello says.
“We know that in 95% of cases these are pseudo-intolerances, but we can’t afford to ignore them. Our waiters are briefed, but when I’m told ‘no onions,’ I go and see the customer. If it’s a simple aversion, I offer to serve them separately and encourage them to try them. Our work can help to unblock preconceptions that are often childhood memories.”
Acker takes the same approach: “If a customer is allergic to pepper, it can be a simple matter of taste or a real allergy. If it’s just a nuisance, I’ll suggest something else.”
Enlightened dialogue
Most establishments ask about any special requirements at the time of booking. And they should be able to provide a list of allergens or mention them directly on the menu, so that customers can make an informed choice.
More broadly, information must not only be collected but also shared with the staff: “We have a briefing for each service, a list of customers and their wishes when they make a reservation, on arrival or at the table, and all the information we gather is recorded on a transmission sheet,” Vigilant says. “A gastronomic meal is like a play. You have the plot, everyone knows their role, but you have to be able to improvise, bounce back and find solutions.”
The message from chefs is almost unanimous: If you have a problem, it’s better for everyone if you tell us.
I like being challenged, I enjoy satisfying a complicated request.
“I like being challenged, I enjoy satisfying a complicated request. But when you create a dish, you think about it, you redo it several times to find the right combinations, the right balance. So from the outset I plan to adapt it, but I try to modify it as little as possible,” Piniello says.
Chefs say the challenge also stimulates their creativity. Torrezan sees it as “a kind of challenge to make people like what we don’t like — beetroot salad or cafeteria spinach — or what we’ve taken a dislike to.”
Acker, for his part, had to come up with a gluten-free, lactose-free version of a vegetable pressé. “I made a mayonnaise with soy milk and herbs to make up for this kind of unforeseen event. In the end, everyone liked it!
Meder sums up the situation well: “Our role is to support everyone in their story, their moment, their experience.” And there’s nothing better than enlightened dialogue rather than tension.
