Care for Camembert or Cassoulet? Say Bonjour to a French Soldier

March 5, 2014 11:02 p.m. ET

French army officials claim to have the best quality combat ration packs. Top British chef Chris Galvin and his French general manager Fred Sirieix taste-test their respective army’s ration packs and find a surprising “entente cordiale.”

PARIS—When 200 paratroopers jumped over Timbuktu to reclaim Mali’s fabled caravan city from Islamist militants, they carried a load that French top brass say gives their soldiers an edge on the battlefield: cans of duck-fat laden cassoulet.
The traditional southwestern French dish, a rich slow-cooked casserole, was part of the four-course combat meals, which by French army standards must be robust enough to sustain troops involved in overseas operations, but also tasteful to satisfy demanding palates.
On the day of the Timbuktu jump, the cassoulet came after a starter of deer terrine, and was followed by Camembert cheese and a chocolate cake. To perfect the homeland feel in that remote corner of the Sahara, the brick-shaped parcels came with matchboxes decorated with images of French monuments such as the Eiffel Tower.
There were plenty of grateful recipients—not all of them French soldiers.

A Look Back at the Battlefield Buffet

French life, even on the battlefield, defines the lunch break as an important time to boost both bonds and morale.

Thanks to a thriving secondary market, foreign civilians—from as far away as Mali—are some of the most enthusiastic beneficiaries of surplus French fare.
In Gao, a Malian desert town 200 miles east of Timbuktu, boxes of French military food sell at open-air markets for about $3. Saleswoman Dijo Cissé says she sources hers from male relatives who work as day laborers at a nearby base. Those guys get them as handouts from French soldiers.
Many of the meals inside contain pork. Mrs. Cissé throws those away or unloads them on residents who don’t obey the Muslim interdiction on swine. The rest—helpfully labeled “sans porc” in green letters—she sells to locals like Abderhamane Maiga, a 26-year-old youth activist.
“We, the population of Mali, we don’t know these things,” said Mr. Maiga, who has dined on French military food for breakfast since early 2013. “There’s fondue in there. There’s a world of things in there…marmalades, tagines, rice dishes.”
“That cheese!” he added. “All week long, I could eat just that. The whole week.”
Americans have been known to get hooked as well. “For sure, the French rations taste more like real food,” says Glen Schultzberg, a former U.S. soldier, who has sampled various military rations.
Napoleon was one of the first generals to pay close attention to combat food, historians say. The French emperor created brigades of civilian cooks who would follow troops in special carts and prepare meals each day, says French historian Martin Bruegel.
The next breakthrough came from across the Rhine. In 1870, Prussian armies pierced through French lines in part because their troops were fed with canned food—something that allowed them to move faster. Although a Frenchman, Nicolas Appert, had pioneered canned food technology, cans were kept off the French military menu because soldiers found them disgusting.
The French army introduced individual food rations after World War II, borrowing the idea from the U.S. From the outside, they don’t look very different from U.S. ones, known as the Meal, Ready-to-Eat, or MRE. French officials even say they envy the innovative and light packaging developed in the U.S., with convenient self-heating systems. In the early days, the French MREs contained two valuable assets, which soldiers often used as a currency: “Gauloises Troupes” cigarettes and sugar-cane rum made from Africa or the French Indies. Both were removed in the mid-1980s as part of a wider government crackdown on smoking and drinking.
Even without the smokes and liquor, French rations remain in high demand. The Defense Ministry has made some of the meals available to Belgian and Moroccan troops, selling its MREs without a markup. Legions of civilians are also eager to buy some.
At the French army’s packaging factory, in the Western French town of Angers, Capt. Clément Picart says his mail box is flooded by requests from hunters, campers and mountain climbers, who would like to buy MREs for their expeditions.

The consistent answer is “no,” he says. “Our priority is to supply the French army.”
Meanwhile, non-French who crave the meals say that even the coffee is superior.
For decades, instant coffee by Nescafé has been almost the only option available to coffee drinkers in Gao.
Then came the French, last year, packing their own standard-issue instant coffee. It is a darker roast and far stronger than local brew, in the estimation of musician Minkeyla Mapon. Within weeks of taking Gao, the French military’s instant coffee had begun popping up for sale in local bodegas.
Now, “it’s the only coffee I drink,” said Mr. Mapon. The field kits also contain a hot cocoa energy drink and tea.
French army officials take their culinary supremacy in stride, saying they are simply following a precept attributed to Napoleon that “an army marches on its stomach.” Delivering good food is essential for cohesion and morale, says French general and historian André Bach.
“The last thing you want is a brawl over food,” he says.
The French soldiers’ obsession with food was described in “Grand Illusion,” Jean Renoir’s 1937 film about World War I. In a German POW camp, wardens lament about their daily treat of cabbage soup. “This tastes like an old sock,” one German officer says. In a nearby cell, French prisoners have spent their morning preparing lunch with parcels sent by relatives.
“So gentlemen, what shall we begin with? Chicken, foie gras with Périgord truffle or Captain Cook’s marinated mackerels?” one of them says.
The rations aren’t above complaints. Some of the French soldiers deployed to Mali have reported losing tooth fillings after eating the toffees included in their rations.
At the army’s lab near Paris where MREs are developed, food scientist Blandine Tavard said she suspects the problem has more to do with poor dental habits. “We’re considering adding a hygiene kit,” she said. “With a toothbrush.”
Write to Inti Landauro at inti.landauro@wsj.com and Drew Hinshaw at drew.hinshaw@wsj.com

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