Disappointing French Delicacies: Regional Food You Can Skip
Me saying sorry to the French, who otherwise have truly delicious food. Lausanne, Switzerland. February 7, 2022.
Every spot I’ve visited in France—even the tiniest of towns—has a regional delicacy or specialty. I don’t think I’ve ever known a country richer in prized regional foods, whether in types of dessert, cheeses, or even main dishes.
And though I may not love some of these specialties when I try them—such as the pike quenelles in Lyon or the pork rillette from Le Mans—I wouldn’t necessarily warn you off them. Even if I might not choose to have a dish again, I feel glad I tried it and I can recognize that some people would really enjoy it.
However, I’ve encountered certain French regional specialty foods that I am only glad I tried so that I can spare you from trying them yourselves.
Because they really were that disappointing (or even flat-out bad).
Rather than ranking them, which I’d find impossible, I’ve gone with an alphabetical list of the regional delicacies of France that I’d recommend you not try.
The Calissons of Aix-en-Provence
One of the several types of Calisonns d’Aix we tried on our trips to Aix-en-Provence. All disappointed. Pass. August 17, 2020.
I’ve visited Aix-in-Provence in the summer and in the winter, and I’ve raved to you about the city’s bakeries and patisseries and the restaurants of Provence.
However, as much as I might therefore have had a bias for liking the famous calissons of Aix-en-Provence, I can tell you that, after having tried several varieties from different makers and numerous calisson-flavored desserts, too, that you won’t miss anything whatsoever by taking a pass on eating one.
If you want to treat yourself in Aix-in-Provence—and well you should—save your tummy space for all the other wonderful foods and skip the calissons. (Like these personal-favorite bakeries and patisseries!)
Though calissons supposedly taste like almonds, I tasted nothing but sugar each time, whether we ate them from the grocery or bought them from some of the famed calisson boutiques around town.
Alas, unlike Aix-en-Provence, you’ll find calissons disappointing. And there is no reason you should eat anything disappointing in Provence.
The Rose Biscuits of Reims
One of the several varieties of Reims rose biscuits we tried. None of which were good. August 16, 2020.
While you would assume that Reims, a massive and historic city in the Champagne region of France, holds renown for its champagne cellars—and you would be correct—it likes to tout its famous “rose biscuits” as a specialty as well, which it recommends that you eat with, yes, champagne.
I can only wonder why someone would want to ruin a perfectly good celebration like that.
Eating a rose biscuit from Reims is like eating powdered sugar and powdery dust mixed with some water and molded into oblong shapes (or, in the case of one specialty-store option we tried), little round cookie shapes.
If you like eating dusty sugar, the rose biscuit of Reims is for you.
The rest of us will take a hard pass.
(And yes, as mentioned above and evidenced via the photos here and in the linked Champagne post above, I tried multiple versions. I just couldn’t quite believe the famed rose biscuit was as bad as, in fact, it is.)
The Pralines of Lyon
Lyonnaise pralines all packaged up and ready for buying (and giving) as gifts or for using in your own special praline-enhanced concoctions. March 20, 2022.
After several years of living with the French, I’ve learned that they adore sugar. And I don’t mean just sweets and desserts with different flavors. I mean sugar.
If you said, “I’ve created something from sugared sugar!”, many of the French would rush to eat it.
And in the case of the Lyonnaise praline, that’s pretty much what someone did.
In the United States, a praline takes the form of a brown-colored sweet or candy made of or flavored with candied nuts—usually pecans. (Don’t get me wrong: A U.S. praline will cross your eyes with its sweetness. The difference comes in the considerable nut component of the overall flavor.)
Therefore, when our food-tour guide in Lyon said he planned to take us to a boutique that specialized in pralines, I thought I knew what to expect.
Until I saw that a praline in Lyon has the form of a ball of sugar enrobed in another type of sugar and then dyed a bright red. Though I hear they’re supposed to have mixed in almond flavor or almond pieces, that came as after-the-fact news to me. To me, a Lyonnaise praline tasted like a melted-together bunch of red-colored sugar crystals. I’ve now tried Lyonnaise pralines from several places in several forms (in and outside of Lyon), and I can’t say I ever tasted or saw almond.
You don’t eat a Lyonnaise praline as-is, though. Instead, the French sprinkle the irregularly shaped comets of food dye in and on top of sweet breads, desserts, and anything else you can imagine, thereby amping up the wow-this-is-sugary and wow-I-hope-I-don’t-stain-my-clothes-red factors by orders of magnitude.
Hey, if you like sugar flavored sugar, go for something with Lyonnaise pralines in it. Otherwise, feel completely at license to slip them, whether you find them in Lyon or elsewhere. You won’t miss a thing.
Save Space for the French Good Stuff!
I guarantee that I’ll encounter other skip-it regional delicacies as I further explore France. And when I do, I’ll update this post.
After all, I try to eat the regional delicacies in each area, even if the type of thing isn’t my thing, because you simply never know. I mean, check out this video of me eating frog legs. I didn’t think frog legs would be my thing, but how could I know for sure?
As you can see, I had the right idea.
However, in all the cases above, these types of things were my things—I have a horrid sweet tooth—and I still didn’t like them.
You can, therefore, feel confident in passing on these French regional delicacies. You’ll find just too many delicious treats in France to waste good stomach space on the disappointing ones.