Picture this: a sprawling banquet in the heart of Paris, gilded tables groaning under the weight of foie gras, truffles, and vintage Champagne. It is the kind of spectacle that might have delighted a Bourbon king. Instead, it has enraged the French left. The event, hosted by a luxury lobby group to celebrate the return of fine dining post-pandemic, was denounced as ‘obscene decadence’ by left-wing MPs. But the ripples have crossed the Channel. Here in Britain, the food industry is watching nervously, warning that a class war over food is spilling onto our shores.
Let’s step back. The French have a peculiar relationship with food. It is not merely sustenance; it is identity. When President Macron was pelted with eggs last year, the assailant was protesting pension reforms, but the symbolic act of throwing food spoke volumes. The banquet, which cost an estimated £500,000, came at a time when food banks in France report a 30% increase in demand. The left’s fury is not just about the money. It is about what the meal represents: a ruling class that feeds itself while the rest queue for basic groceries.
Now, bring in Britain. Our food industry is already battered by Brexit trade barriers, labour shortages, and inflation. The British Retail Consortium reports that food prices have risen 15% year on year. Supermarket shelves sometimes look like a Soviet-era bread queue. And into this fragile ecosystem comes the spectre of ‘class war’ rhetoric. UK industry insiders fear that the French row will embolden British activists to target high-end restaurants and luxury food events. After all, the gap between a £300 tasting menu at a London hotspot and a £1.50 loaf of Hovis has never felt more cruel.
There is a deeper cultural shift at play. For decades, food was a marker of aspiration. Working-class families saved for Sunday roasts at gastropubs. Celebrity chefs like Jamie Oliver and Nigella Lawson made cooking aspirational. But the cost of living crisis has rewritten that narrative. Now, a trip to the supermarket is a minefield. The middle classes are trading down from Waitrose to Aldi. And the sight of a lavish banquet, even one in Paris, feels like a slap.
The real fear among industry insiders is not a revolution, but a slow erosion of trust. If dining out becomes the preserve of the wealthy, what happens to the communal joy of a shared meal? The French left has tapped into a raw nerve: that food, the most basic of human needs, has become a stage for inequality. Britain’s food industry, already struggling with soaring energy costs and staff shortages, cannot afford to be cast as the villain. Yet the optics of a £500,000 banquet are impossible to defend.
What will happen next? The French government has distanced itself from the event. But the damage is done. In Britain, expect more campaigns for ‘fair food’ and calls for a windfall tax on luxury restaurants. The class war over food is no longer a French affair. It is at our own dinner tables, where the choice between a pint of milk and a premium coffee becomes a daily political act.
As a society columnist, I have always believed that what we eat reveals who we are. Right now, it reveals a country divided by the very plates we set. The giant banquet may have been in Paris, but its echo will be heard in every British kitchen where budgets are tightening and resentment simmers.
