When I first moved to France, I thought I had a pretty good grasp of food. After all, I grew up in the NYC metro area where you can find a huge variety of cuisines and ingredients from all over the world. I figured, “How different could it be?” But, oh boy, was I in for a surprise!
5 Foods I discovered only AFTER moving to France
French food culture is its own unique, delicious universe. There are things here that are completely foreign to an American kitchen — not just in terms of flavors, but in how they’re cooked, served, and even thought about.
I quickly learned that my idea of “gourmet” was a little different from the French, and that I had a lot to learn about how simple, everyday foods could be turned into something so much more.
Before I get into my list, let me point out that some of my list is probably cultural and some of it is specific to my upbringing and location. Plenty of Americans might be huge fans of the foods I list below and eat them often, but for me, these just weren’t foods I was overly familiar with back in suburban NJ growing up. Different strokes for different folks…
There are all kinds of Indian foods and chili peppers and other dishes I’d eat regularly while living in NYC that the average French person wouldn’t be familiar with, so it works both ways. 😉 Foods aren’t universal around the globe.
Here are 5 foods I’d never even tried (ok ok, or at least ones that weren’t in regular rotation) — heck, some I’d never even heard of — until I moved to France.
1. Rhubarb
Confession time: I had no idea what rhubarb actually looked like before moving to France. If someone had shown me a bunch of rhubarb stalks back home, I probably would have said, “Wow, cool red celery!” as a naive twentysomething.
Rhubarb was not a vegetable I saw often on menus or in grocery stores in the U.S…. aside from a jam flavor? Or a type of pie? And even then, rhubarb seemed like one of those old-fashioned ingredients that shows up in Grandma’s recipes. I don’t think I’d ever even tasted it.
Now let’s turn to France. Rhubarb is pretty mainstream, especially in desserts and preserves and I see it at the farmers’ markets in the spring and early summer. My first introduction was the classic tarte à la rhubarbe — a tart filled with sweetened rhubarb that’s slightly tangy and absolutely delicious. I’ve since had it in jams, compotes, and even paired with strawberries in a crumble. French people love that balance between sweet and sour, and rhubarb delivers it perfectly.
It’s fascinating to see how the French take something that many Americans overlook and turn it into a culinary star. Who knew that a tart vegetable could make such a great dessert? P.S. In 1947, the USDA classified rhubarb as a fruit because the impot tariffs were lower on fruits than vegetables. But it’s a vegetable.
My verdict: Delicious
2. Endives
Ah, endives. They’re a perfect example of the kind of ingredient that I’d walked right past in U.S. grocery stores without even knowing how to prepare them. Endives are these slightly bitter, crunchy little lettuce-looking things that I had no clue what to do with until France taught me their true potential.
In the U.S., salads tend to be made with the usual iceberg, romaine, mixed greens, or spinach combo. But in France, endive salads are pretty popular. The most famous French endive dish you’ll encounter is endives au jambon, which is basically endives wrapped in ham, baked with béchamel sauce and cheese. Talk about comfort food!
The bitterness of the endives contrasts so well with the richness of the ham and sauce. At first, I wasn’t sure if I loved the bitterness, but after a while, I really came to appreciate how the French use strong flavors in balance. Plus, they’re incredibly versatile. You’ll find them raw in salads or lightly braised alongside fish or meats.
Endives are classic French, and I’m so glad I’ve learned what to do with them. That said, endives aren’t my favorite thing but I’ve come to appreciate them.
My verdict: So-so
3. Leeks
Leeks weren’t entirely new to me because my dad would make a special leek and watercress potato-based soup for Christmas every year. I have a funny story about that here.
But generally speaking, leeks aren’t something Americans eat regularly. I’d say most adults would know what leeks are if they saw them in the supermarket, but I am not sure the average American 6-year-old would be able to tell you what a leek looks like. It’s not as commonplace for us as a carrot or onion.
In France though, it’s a whole different story because leeks are quite popular. Most French kids know what leeks are and commonly eat them in quiches, soups, as a side dish, etc. Leeks are just as well-known to kids as a potato or carrot.
The French (the ones who like to cook) have a knack for turning basic ingredients into something more elegant than you’d expect. Leeks show up in everything from quiches to soups to gratin dishes and more.
French markets are filled with huge, beautiful leeks in the fall, and I’ve grown to love their mild flavor in ways I never knew possible. They’re called les poireaux in French.
My verdict: Delicious
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4. Pâté
Let’s talk about pâté. Before moving to France, my idea of pâté was… vague, at best. In the U.S., it’s not something most people eat unless you’re in a fancy restaurant or shopping at a specialty store. It’s often seen as this weird, old-school dish that you might associate with very specific occasions.
In France, though, pâté is everywhere. It’s not just for the holidays—it’s for casual picnics, family dinners, and whenever you feel like it. And there are so many kinds!
If you’re unfamiliar with it, pâté is a mixture of seasoned ground meat, seafood, poultry or vegetables cooked down into a spreadable texture. Sometimes it’s cooked in a pastry shell and sliced (the older generation seems to eat it more frequently than younger folks) and other times it’s something you spread with a knife onto bread. The varieties are endless.
At first, I was a little hesitant. I mean, spreadable meat? But after giving it a try, I actually liked it.
My verdict: Delicious
5. Boudin Blanc
This one falls into the “food I’d never heard of” category. The first time I tasted boudin blanc was at my in-laws’ house for a Sunday lunch. I’ll admit I was a little nervous. The only “boudin” I’d heard of was boudin noir (blood sausage) and eating that once was enough for an entire lifetime, although my husband loves it. Boudin noir is also pretty popular in the French Caribbean.
But as it turned out, I was nervous for no reason. Boudin blanc doesn’t have any blood and is actually quite delicious.
So what is it? Well, boudin blanc, which is called white sausage in the U.S. or white pudding in the U.K., is a mild sausage made from pork, chicken, or veal and is mixed with milk, breadcrumbs, and seasoning. It’s actually light in color and is delicately flavored and nothing like your typical American sausage. It’s not greasy at all!
In fact, it’s so smooth and light that I was completely surprised the first time I tried it. You usually see it more around the holidays, but it’s available year-round in most French markets and supermarkets.
This dish is subtle, creamy almost, and is more refined than you’d expect. It’s especially comforting with a mashed vegetable like creamy potatoes and pairs nicely with apple compote.
Just one word of warning: Cook it low and slow on the stove so it cooks evenly. If you’re in a rush and turn up the heat, your boudin blanc will burn and the inside will be cold. When done well, it’s the kind of comforting meal that makes you feel right at home—whether that home is in France or not.
My verdict: Delicious (boudin blanc) & Disgusting (boudin noir)
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One of the best things about living in a new country is discovering things you’d never experience back home… including food! French food culture celebrates things like bitter vegetables, savory pâtés, and sausages in ways that can be both surprising and delicious.
As an American in France, I’ve learned that food isn’t just about what’s on the plate — it’s about tradition, culture, and an appreciation for flavors I never knew I needed. Oh, and here’s my favorite French mealtime habit.
So, the next time you’re wandering through a French market or looking at a menu and spot something unfamiliar, be brave and try it. You never know… it could become one of your new favorite foods. And if not, well, you’ll have a good story to tell!
Bon appétit, mes amis!
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Anne-Marie says
We love boudin blanc in this house ! (And boudin noir with pomme and oignons caramélisé) . My belle-mère lives in a small village just outside of Rethel in the Champagne-Ardennes and ALWAYS brings us their, literally, famous boudin blanc, and boudin blanc forestier. Strongly recommend !!!
Diane says
It really is THAT good!! Especially this time of year 🙂
Anne-Marie says
if you ever get to Rethel the only boucherie there is DEMOIZET, the boudin blanc is IGP, so enough said !!
On a side note, one of my sisters has lived in the US for years and has never mentioned anything about leeks !! I thought EVERYBODY ate them !!!
Emily says
Yeah, rhubarb is way less popular in the US than it is in Europe, for some reason. Maybe it just has a bad reputation, like Brussels sprouts? We had a rhubarb plant in our garden when I was growing up in north Jersey (what can I say, my mom’s a botanist), and my dad used to bring some to a German coworker of his who lived in the city and was thrilled to have rhubarb that wasn’t super expensive or wilted. I can’t imagine finding rhubarb yogurt or rhubarb-flavored anything in the US like you can in France — it just doesn’t exist.
Joe DiPrimio says
Hello Diane. So true about experiencing different foods from different countries. I’ve tried boudin noir in Paris. Ate it all but didn’t care for the mealy texture. Whereas, I love pork liver sausage having eaten it at home growing up. Same goes with broccoli rabe (bitter greens), tripe and faro grains cooked with cheap cuts of pork and served cold. These were staples in the Italian household of the 50’s-60’s in Philadelphia and I’m sure in NYC. But now, Can’t find them anywhere in Cape May.
It’s getting steadily colder here along the Atlantic coast. Mid 40s at night.
Thank you for your regular updates and have a great weekend.
Joe and Gigi.
Leslie says
I don’t think younger generations are exposed as much to the variety of foods, sadly, but some of that is regional as well. We always had a large garden growing up and that included rhubarb (my dad’s favorite), endive and leeks. I grew up on all 3 and still cook with them regularly. To many of my friends, these foods are still a mystery.
Susan Walter says
Of your list only boudin blanc was completely new to me and a discovery when we moved to France 15+ years ago. I like them. My big discovery though was gesiers (chicken gizzards). I ordered a salad many years ago, before we’d even moved here, because one of the ingredients mentioned was gesiers, and I didn’t know what they were, so I thought I’d find out. They turned out to be delicious.
Mimi says
My father grew up in a farming family, lived hand to mouth many times, but grew rhubarb. He ate greens and loved rhubarb. My mother was of French descent and contributed comfy cornish and Brittany dishes like leek and potato sour, bread pudding, and yummy desserts made from fresh fruit. I’ve continued using these foods and recipes. Unfortunately, I see these lovely traditions dying with the younger generations who order home delivery or eat out too much.
Michel says
I tried so many times to make a rhubarb pie this year, but sadly, every time I looked at the vegetable department at the supermarket, they didn’t have any. I believe it doesn’t sell enough. I recommend you mix the rhubarb with an apple puree. The sweetness of the apple compensates for the sourness of the rhubarb. One apple is enough for 5 branches of rhubarb.
Concerning your endives recipe with ham and bechamel, you can replace the endives with leeches.
Diane says
With leeches???
Michel BOURGOIS says
Sorry, I meant “leeks”.
Molly | Transatlantic Notes says
Growing up in Britain, all of these were quite regularly part of meals and food, but I definitely noticed when I moved to the U.S. that my husband (the American) had not heard of these either (or if he had, he’d never tried them). It’s great to discover new tastes you like and to give things a try. Love this!
Cyndy says
We had rhubarb, endives, and leeks readily available when I was growing up in Western Pennsylvania. My mother used endives and leeks frequently, but I only remember rhubarb at friends’ and my husband’s house. No matter how it was prepared, I didn’t like the sourness nor the combination of sweet and sour. But to each his own.
I don’t remember seeing it in Paris, but we lived there in the winter. I also don’t remember seeing it during the summers we’ve spent in La Dordogne, even at Grand Frais. But maybe because I wasn’t looking for it.