l’Amour in the Taste of Things

by Calla Jones Corner

Juliette Binoche (right) and Benoit Magimel star in Academy Award-nominated Best Foreign Language Film “A Taste of Things”. Courtesy of www.tasteofthings.com

Valentine’s Day is around the corner, so love is in the air, and, as most of us know or were advised early on, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Because of all that, I decided to brave a French rush hour to see this French film about food. I'd heard it was a catalogue of prodigious kitchen prep, of sumptuous consumption, and a delicious tale of love.

Cooking is indeed an art, especially when conceived and portrayed by someone gifted. As it is in La Passion de Dodin Bouffant (or Pot au Feu, its other title) for an audience, such as I, that had never read Marcel Rouff's 1924 novel on which the film is based.

It has been released as The Taste of Things in English.

Maybe it was the fuss in Meursault (where I now live), over Jean-Marc Roulot, a prominent, sixth-generation local winemaker who is a seasoned, respected actor and a member of the cast. The film has been chosen as the French entry to this year’s 2024 Academy Awards ceremony, perhaps for its sublime photography. 

With non-stop rain for two weeks, I admit I also had to get out of this village of 80 wine-making families, where the chit-chat for the past six months has been about the health of vineyards. I admittedly am not a wine connoisseur (but won't refuse a glass of my son-in-law's fine champagne or a sip of Domaine Roulot's superb apricot brandy).

I have been known to whip up some memorable meals from time to time. Even written about them. So, it was the food theme that made me risk my long, happy life fighting traffic in the French capital.

Possibly, having recently lost Richard, the love of my life, I could also have used an old-fashioned love story (as was ours that began with a simple Swiss lunch of filet de perche at l’Hotel du Lac in Lutry, on the banks of lac Léman, many years ago).

 La Passion de Dodin Bouffant under the gifted and gracious hand of French-Vietnamese director Tran Anh Hun, had me from the first sharp cut that cook Eugenie (Juliette Binoche) makes to the stalk of a celery root in her lover Dodin's (Benoit Magimel) chateau's potager.

My auditory, visual, and vicarious olfactory senses didn't fail me for the next half hour as Eugenie waltzed around her Belle Epoque domaine, hung with a glistening copper batterie de cuisine that Martha Stewart would envy, as she prepared a feast (there is no other word) for her lover and his five foodie friends, who seem to meet often without a thought of calories or of the task that Eugenie accomplishes with delicacy and a half-smile.

Nary a word is uttered during this complicated but controlled kitchen choreography, set to a symphony of chopped onions, smashed garlic, snipping of herbs, and gushing guts as Eugenie deals with fish entrails and bullion bubbles softly in the background. Now and then, Eugenie gently asks the thirteen-year-old, doe-eyed apprentice Pauline (Bonnie Chagneau-Ravoir), who steals the show for me, to taste one of her confections. This is the hint for the drama that is to befall the lovers.

I was so caught up in the divine moody photography (I felt I was watching a love affair with food through the finest of skimmed bouillon) and the closeup of food preparation that I probably missed some metaphors between food and love. Although I did catch Dodin's delicate dipping sauce over the poached pears he prepares for Eugenie (when he finally cooks a meal for her as he realizes she is not well) and the following scene as he caresses the sleeping Eugenie's pear-shaped, naked bottom.

The film's seductive chemistry takes place in the kitchen between Eugenie and her creations, not between Binoche and Magimel, who had, apparently, quite a long affair in the past. I didn't see them as lovers, real or fabricated. When Dodin hides a ring in a pastry he manages to whip up for his lover, I am more interested in how he made the confection than I am in Eugenie's confusing, girlish reaction to this gastronomic marriage proposal.

My grand and unoriginal takeaway from this delicious film is that cooking for those one loves – or even just likes – can be a symphony of one's own making and need not be in a chateau. If one can manage to plant a potager to inspire love in a kitchen, any effort will be rewarded handsomely.

Bon appetit!