Eating well on the road (without trying too hard)
Travelling through France in a motorhome sets a curious culinary rhythm. You’re surrounded by some of the world’s most photographed food, yet inside the van it’s far more down-to-earth: limits on workspace, equipment and storage invokes creativity and adaptability.
We haven’t eaten out much — the motorhome kitchen is our default bistro. And it’s surprising how quickly you fall into a French-leaning way of eating even without meaning to.
The French influence creeps in quietly.
A simple petit déjeuner of baguette, ham and cheese has become our morning ritual. A torn-off hunk of baguette dipped into whatever sauce survives the evening pan suddenly feels essential to life. When in France, you dip.
Meanwhile, my cooking has taken a decidedly regional turn.
- A chicken cassoulet, built from whatever the local supermarket had, turned out hearty and deeply satisfying.
- A boeuf bourguignon, simmered slowly until the beef surrendered entirely, made the motorhome smell like a bistro in Burgundy. The meat chose us – standing out in the boucherie section like a beacon of gorgeousness.
- A floret gratin, an improvised cousin of cauliflower cheese — cauliflower, broccoli and romanesco cloaked in a wine-fortified sauce — pure comfort food that doesn’t care about total authenticity.
- And on lighter days: steamed salmon, vegetables and new potatoes, simple, fresh, and kind to the waistband.
There’s no styled food photography to accompany any of this. No overhead shots on rustic wooden tables. No artful drizzle. And honestly? That suits us. The story here isn’t glamour — it’s living well with what’s at hand.
What we do collect are moments:
Sitting in a sun-washed square with a café au lait, watching people wander past while Scylla dozes at our feet. Browsing supermarket aisles that are oddly familiar yet somehow not. Cooking by instinct rather than recipe. Eating by feel rather than performance.
French food culture has seeped into us not through restaurants but through repetition, habit and atmosphere. Through the quiet pleasure of a sauce that worked. Through the small rituals that make travel taste like something. Oh and my chef training might help a bit!
For us, food on the road has become less about the plate and more about the day around it.
