She was born in the United States and spent most of her childhood in Chicago where she started her career before being sent by her American bank to Paris. Here she eventually landed her dream job and learned to navigate the perks of French culture. Ring any bells?
Jane Bertch’s entrepreneurial venture certainly has Emily in Paris vibes, since she shares many similarities with Emily Cooper, the heroine of the successful Netflix show.
However, while Ms Bertch was successful in banking, she had a different dream: to start a school offering classes to other English speakers where they could learn traditional French cuisine skills to take back to their kitchens at home.
Many French people were sceptical, but she successfully brought together teams with the right experience and launched La Cuisine Paris in June 2009, which now has an overwhelming number of five-star reviews on TripAdvisor.
Students on its courses can, for example, learn to make croissants, macarons or the classic French sauces, or find out how to make the most of a market trip.
Those looking for a challenge can even learn to debone a chicken and make their own stock and paupiettes (stuffed parcels).
This year The French Ingredient was published, a memoir of her entrepreneurial journey and of how she navigated the cultural differences.
The Connexion spoke with her ahead of publication about her career, to find out what makes French dîner and Paris so unique, and how her first visit when she was 17 did not go that well.
If you could choose only one ingredient, what would it be?
One of the great ingredients I have learned in France is the importance of relationships. As soon as you understand that culturally, it starts to make sense. That is paramount.
Ad
French people do not necessarily give the warm reception that Americans are renowned for giving, but that has nothing to do with them being cold or mean.
I get remarks from visitors about it but I try to explain. The fact is there is neither a context nor a pre-existing relationship for you. But once they know you, you become almost family.
What made you want to create a cookery school? It sounds like a tough industry to get into?
I think it was from fascination and an appreciation for the country’s amazing food culture.
I wanted to focus on showing and sharing that wonderful industry with others, even though I started from scratch.
What gives French cuisine its power?
I found a connection between my family – where everything was about food – and France. I was able to find this tiny nugget where we share common ground. Across culture and countries, food is a language that we can all speak.
In France, you don’t just eat out, you ‘dine’. What does that mean?
It is an intangible sacred moment to sit and share with one another.
Even though the landscape in Paris is changing with the bookings, set meal times and reservations, I love that the whole experience of dîner has kept its importance and relevance.
It covers everything, from the conversations to the care taken to make the occasion wonderful, undisturbed and unrushed. Only in France can I have a four-hour lunch where we discuss the world and the ups and downs of life.
Have you taken on board the ‘French paradox’? It has been described as the confusion of Americans regarding how French people can remain so slim while eating food rich in saturated fats...
There seems to be an obsession with people’s ability to stay lean.
I feel like it is a Parisian phenomenon because when you leave Paris, you see that many locals are not that thin.
One critic described your book as a “multi-layered story of a woman navigating innumerable cultural differences to build a life in Paris and create her dream”. Can you name some?
Well, the glaring one is that Americans – myself included – approach things with a very commercial attitude about doing business.
From my experience, it will get you nowhere in France. It is not looked on merely with curiosity but with suspicion. You must try to develop relationships. It always goes back to this.
I could have thrown millions at artisans – not that I have millions – but if it did not give them pride and satisfaction, they would not be interested.
That is beautiful and rare. It is about so much more than money.
In France, I have had people tell me: “I’m sorry this is my last one, my window display cannot be compromised because it is beautiful.”
It is a little depressing at times but it is absolutely precious.
I have been in stores where they would not sell flowers so as not to mess up the display. That would never happen in the US. They would dismantle the whole window to sell you a scarf. They would not care.
Do you think a story such as yours is still possible in 2024, with Brexit, the wars, with high inflation?
I have not thought about that but you are right that globally we are just faced with so many challenges now. The landscape has changed and it makes it very difficult for us to create a global community with so much tension and conflict.
My real answer would be that I do not know but I hope so. Is it not a sad state of affairs if we have come to the point where we cannot have others come in and make their own unique change?
I imagine you did not ask yourself these questions when your bank took you to Paris in 2006. It was all about “living the dream”?
It was, and I was very intimidated. What American woman does not want to live in Paris?
It had its challenges and I was not very enthusiastic but I guess I subscribed to the dream like so many others had, and now there is just an intense fascination for this city, unlike any other.
Do you ever think about why this is? Why not Vienna? Vienna is beautiful. Why not Barcelona? There are so many other cities in the world.
But I guess what makes Paris special is that each person has their own unique vision of Paris, some of them which no longer exist. I mean, I have not seen anyone riding a bicycle down the street wearing a beret and a stripy shirt, carrying a baguette under their arm.
You disliked your first visit when you came with your mother, aged 17 - why was that?
There were a few times where I felt overlooked, or when I tried to pronounce a word to a waiter and he looked at me like he had smelled something bad. Instead of saying “Oh, let me help you”, he looked at me like I had grown another head.