By Marie-Antoinette issa.
France may be synonymous with coq au vin, crêpes and croissants, but dig a little deeper - past the pretty Parisian prix fixe plates and stereotypical souffles - and the multi-faceted flavours of L'Hexagone emerge.
It’s a country of regional, rustic and richly flavourful dishes that rarely make it beyond their hometowns. These are the dishes whispered about at local markets, served at family tables on Sundays and cherished for their ties to land and tradition.
Waldeck Ray, venue manager and Head Sommelier at Franca Brasserie in Sydney, knows this hidden culinary France intimately. Born in Paris to a mother from the country’s north and a father from Auvergne, his understanding of regional food is shaped by both terroir and time spent around the table.
"A lot of these dishes are home-style, slow-cooked and not very showy,” he says. "They’re the kind of dishes your grandma makes, not what you'd expect in a fancy restaurant - but they’re the ones with the most soul.”
Take aligot, for example. This mountain dish from the Auvergne region is made by stirring mashed potato with garlic and local tomme cheese until it becomes silky, stretchy and gloriously indulgent.
"It’s this incredible mix of mashed potato, garlic and tomme cheese that turns it into something stretchy, cheesy and warming. It’s a proper mountain dish, full of comfort and perfect for sharing,” says Waldeck. Served hot and pulled high in long ribbons before landing on the plate, aligot is as much about theatre as it is about texture.
The mountainous region of Auvergne plays a powerful role in shaping such hearty fare. "You’ve got volcanic soil, forests, cows and cold Winters,” says Waldeck. "So, you get big cheese like salers and bleu, potatoes in everything, hearty charcuterie and rustic stews.”
This is comfort food with altitude - designed to fuel long days in the fields and warm cold bones by the fire.
However, the culinary secrets don’t end there. Another dish from Auvergne, pounti, takes a more unexpected route. Somewhere between a savoury loaf and a country terrine, pounti combines pork, fresh herbs and prunes.
Photo credit: Life on La Lune.
"Might sound odd, but it just works,” says Waldeck. The sweetness of the fruit balances the richness of the meat, creating a dish that’s equal parts earthy and elegant.
Travel north to the region where Waldeck’s mother was raised and the food becomes richer, butterier and boldly influenced by its Belgian neighbours.
"The further north you go, the more you feel the influence from Belgium and Flanders,” he explains. Here, it’s not wine that deepens a stew but beer. Carbonnade flamande, a slow-cooked beef dish made with dark beer, mustard and even gingerbread, is a Winter staple.
"It’s beef cooked in beer, often with mustard and gingerbread, slow and rich. Not something you see often on menus outside of France, but it deserves to be there.”
Then there’s tarte au sucre, a humble dessert that trades intricate patisserie for warmth and nostalgia. Hailing from the north, it’s a soft, yeasted dough topped with caramelised sugar and butter. "People think French desserts are all technical, but this one is as humble and satisfying as it gets,” says Waldeck.
Photo credit: Diversivore.
For Waldeck, regional French food isn’t just about ingredients - it’s about place. "Where you are in France really shapes what ends up on the table,” he says. "In the north, the food is richer, more buttery, often cooked with beer or cream.
"Paris is different again. It’s a place where all the regions meet. You get a bit of everything, but it’s more refined, more structured. Even bistro food has a polish to it.”
There are still regions where a single ingredient defines the plate. In the north, that ingredient is maroilles - a pungent, washed-rind cheese with a strong aroma and a cult following.
"It’s strong, it’s funky, but in a dish like a maroilles tart or just melted on toast, it’s magic,” says Waldeck. While he may not be from the southwest, he’s quick to pay homage to its most prized treasure: the truffles of Perigord.
"That earthy richness is like nothing else and it adds depth to simple dishes in a way you don’t forget - way more powerful than Oz ones by the way.”
So, why don’t these dishes appear more often on international menus? The answer, Waldeck believes, is perception. "Most people outside of France know French food through Paris or through haute cuisine,” he says. "Things like aligot or potee auvergnate or carbonnade just don’t get much airtime.”
For curious travellers and eaters, Waldeck recommends starting in Lyon. "It’s a great place to start because it’s right in the middle and the food scene is serious there. You’ve got the bouchons doing proper regional food, often from nearby areas like Auvergne.”
To really get to the heart of regional cooking he suggests you "go to little towns, markets, talk to people, ask what their parents cooked. You don’t need to go far from Paris to find amazing food that’s never been on a tourist menu.”
As for introducing newcomers to these hidden gems, Waldeck keeps it simple. "I’ll say, this is something I grew up eating, or this is what families eat on a Sunday back home...people are curious when you tell them there’s a story behind it.”
If he were to design a menu inspired by these under-the-radar dishes, it would be a comforting, cheese-forward affair. "I’d start with pate en croute, served with a little salad. Then aligot, of course, probably with a Toulouse sausage or a bit of confit. To finish, tarte au sucre warm out of the oven, soft in the middle with a bit of crème fraiche on the side.”
A meal like that doesn’t just fill you up - it grounds you. It’s a reminder that France’s culinary treasures aren’t just found in Michelin-starred temples or glossy cookbooks. Sometimes, they’re hiding in a potato and cheese mash so good, it stretches halfway across the table.
