France is the home of the Michelin Star, so it was fitting that they installed Michelin-starred chefs in the kitchen at the athletes’ village during the Olympics. The country’s cuisine is lauded globally, and organisers promised “a very French touch”. Hopes were high among ravenous sporting folk that a mess hall replete with truffles, guinea fowl and crayfish jus would be a highlight of the Games.
Instead, it was the epicentre of complaints. The food was cold, athletes said. The British complained about uncooked meat.
A much-proclaimed emphasis on sustainable plant-based meals left athletes hungry for protein. British swimmer Adam Peaty said there were worms in the fish. “A disaster,” said the German men’s hockey team.
“They started running out of food,” said Australian tennis player Daria Saville on social media. “Some nights, I’d just have canned tuna and rice in the Australian building.” There’s an old cliché about Europe that goes something like this: in heaven, the couturiers are French, the mechanics are German, and everything’s organised by the Swiss.
In hell, the French are the mechanics, and the Italians are the organisers. During the Paris Games, the French skirted close to their stereotype of style over substance; they may have hosted the most beautiful Games of the modern era, but there were some mechanical failures under the bonnet. An early example came during the opening ceremony.
Having a pink-and-white-clad Moulin Rouge troupe pe.