Gastronomical Tariffs

Tariffs have been part of Gastronomy for a long time. By bringing together consumer demands, government standards, and manufacturers' interests in the french capital, protectionism contributed to the French way of life and, therefore, to Gastronomy, which is an essential part of it.

In 1661, ten years after François de La Varenne's seminal work, Le Cuisinier François, which marked the beginning of a new, rational approach to cooking that broke with the Middle Ages, Colbert was appointed Superintendent of Finances to Louis XIV. For almost a quarter of a century, he transformed the French economy with a dirigiste and protectionist policy. To facilitate the creation of domestic manufacturing, he introduced high tariffs to protect emerging industries such as porcelain, mirror and fabric manufacturing.

In Colbert we Trust

This policy bore fruit and transformed France's industrial base for centuries to come. The resulting upturn in activity, coupled with the superintendent's policies, made it possible to finance major projects such as the magnificent Canal du Midi and other infrastructure such as bridges and roads.

In addition to the population at large, it was the upper classes who benefited most from this policy. This was because it consumed a great deal, whether fine fabrics from the Netherlands, porcelain from China or Murano glass. In addition to weakening France's trade balance, as these products were very expensive, this imported consumption deprived the principals of any influence over the final product, which, even if it had a certain exoticism, remained outside the canons of French taste.

The approach of creating and protecting high value-added industries and trades—in terms of high-tech, glass was then what semiconductors are today—is therefore not new. But what contributed to its success back then is the closer relationship between the end customer and the producer, facilitating listening and dialogue about needs and expectations.

The new French art of living, which had been flourishing and asserting itself since Madame de Rambouillet's Chambre Bleue in the 1620s, came into its own with the heyday of Versailles and the proliferation of salons where these ladies developed the practice of high standards.

The French court of the time, the most powerful in Europe, not only dictated good taste in terms of manners and conversation, but now also had the means to impose its rules and fashions on the objects that surrounded it.

Table decoration, an essential element of the emerging gastronomy, would therefore benefit from the proximity of this industrial base, which was very often located in the capital itself. This almost direct link with the new designers ensured that the nobility and the upper middle classes had as much, if not more, influence over quality and good taste than the king himself.

The latter would obviously not be left out. As an object visible to all and emblematic of this congregation of political, economic, and artistic successes, the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles continues to this day to reflect the splendor of that distant era. Built between 1678 and 1684, its 357 mirrors were manufactured by La Manufacture Royale des Glaces de Miroirs, a company still in business today under the name Saint-Gobain, an indirect legacy of the Sun King.

More prosaically, in terms of gastronomy, let's take Le Déjeuner d'Huitres (Oyster Lunch), a painting by Jean-François de Troy painted in 1735, as an example to illustrate Colbert's influence. In addition to its technical virtuosity—note, for example, the shades of red in the clothing visible through the mesh of the chair on the right—this painting is rich in objects that may have come from the new French industry.

Le Déjeuner d'Huitres, Jean-François de Troy, 1735

The table linen, like the clothes, woven to precise and high standards to offer the best quality, is striking for its variety and refinement. The icebox, which offers storage space in addition to ice buckets, takes pride of place in the center, indispensable, crafted in detail down to its gilded feet. The dishes, most likely made of silver, could have come from Thomas Germain, a renowned goldsmith and supplier to Louis XV. As for the glasses, it would not be out of place to attribute their origin to the Manufacture de Glace, because after mastering the techniques of manufacturing large mirrors, it turned its attention to tableware such as wine glasses. The wine poured therein is likely to have benefited from the policy of developing the wine trade, just as the porcelain bowls containing ice to cool these same glasses may have benefited from the research and innovation that led to Limoges' reputation. Finally, the shoes worn by these gentlemen would not be out of place if they were suspected of having benefited from the increased expertise of the tannery, which can still be found today in luxury brands.

Not all of these industries have survived the passage of time and competition, as did Saint-Gobain group, whose factories, some of them located in Cognac, for example, accompany the export of the eponymous spirit, a product of excellence throughout the world today.

The art of living was therefore able to flourish and establish that essential aspect of Gastronomy that is table presentation. For let us not forget that Gastronomy touches on everything related to the art of eating well, which necessarily includes the tablecloth on which we place a beautiful plate, the fork that discreetly carries each bite of discovery, and the glass with its thin, discreet rim that disappears as soon as the first drops of a carefully crafted wine are poured.

So why couldn't this policy work again in today's modern, smart, and educated world? This is 2025, after all! How could we not do better today than we did back then?

The situation is not the same, for three reasons in particular.

Firstly, this protectionist approach sought to penetrate a strategic, high value-added market, certainly not to reclaim low value-added trades such as manual assembly or uncomplicated manufacturing such as flip-flops. Investing in and nurturing a sector such as AI makes sense, to a certain extent, both economically and strategically. Demanding that flip-flops be relocated close to home shows a profound misunderstanding of what constitutes the added value of a company and its products or services.

Furthermore, in the 17th century, economies were far less interconnected than they are today, where a single product can be the assembly of components and knowledge from dozens of other countries. As Friedrich Hayek explains so well, a simple pencil benefits from expertise and volume production from many different sources, spreading synergies to the greatest number of people.

Let's not forget that significantly reducing the pool of potential suppliers means reducing competition and therefore the effort retailers make to offer the best value. It's like discovering one evening that Hubert Eats is no longer delivering and that three of the four restaurants nearby have closed. Sooner or later, the only restaurant left will raise its prices and lower its quality.

Finally, the social impact is not at all the same. Reducing free trade today means, above all, penalizing the voters that the US president claims to protect. Back then, if the Dutch or Venetians responded with price increases of their own, the only ones affected were wealthy “households,” i.e., those who owned a castle or two or the prosperous bourgeoisie. Peasants and artisans didn't care if the price of a candlestick doubled; we were still a long way from mass consumption.

In short, in addition to conversation, the French art of living gave itself the means to leave its mark on the objects that constitute and represent it. And while the effects were not immediate, they certainly left their mark on the country for a very long time. From 1665 onwards, it took around five years for France to drastically reduce its dependence on Murano glass. That's longer than a single term in office, but it has to be said that what we see in it is priceless.

Philippe Cartau

Galerie des Glaces, modified by Grok