God bless the French. They gave us roux, which gave us bechamel, which gave us the opportunity to eat leftover lasagne on the couch and watch trash TV. They gave us Asterix, Obelix, Moon Safari and the stethoscope. They gave us those Brets Fromage du Jura potato chips, which go surprisingly well with guacamole.

For the most part, Australia gives French foods the credit they’re due. Croissants, baguettes and pork rillettes. Steak frites, saucisson and oeufs mayonnaise. Pissaladiere. Bouillabaisse. Crepes Suzette! Who’s for more gougeres?

But with the Paris Olympics upon us, and all media outlets now required by law to publish at least six tie-in articles, here are five overrated foods from the land of beurre blanc and blokes named Bertrand (plus five that deserve more love).

Overrated

Fromager d’Affinois

Look, I lived on this stuff when I was a student. It’s affordable, it’s gooey, it’s cheese. Chuck it on a board and crack open the Bowler’s Run, Desperate Housewives is about to start. But there are far more cheeses available now than when I was muddling my way through university, especially at the supermarket giants, which have become d’Affinois’ natural home. In short, this cheese is too mild (read: boring) to warrant the kilojoules. Something like a traditionnelle brie fermier will likely be triple the price, but it will also have 10 times the flavour.

Croque monsieur

If it looks like a grilled ham and cheese sandwich, and it tastes like a grilled ham and cheese sandwich with added bechamel, then it’s a croque monsieur. In its platonic form, heavy with gruyere and butter, the croque is too rich to face down in one sitting, no matter how sharp your side salad is.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the sandwich spectrum, “croque monsieur” is just a nifty way for airport cafes to sell a sad toastie made with Primo and Bega.

Crudites

Let’s call this for what it is: a plate of raw vegetables, mostly carrots, and some dip. There’s nothing wrong with any of this, mind, but slicing a celery stick into quarters is hardly Escoffier-level stuff.

Salade Nicoise

I want to like it, really I do. Anchovies. Handsome wedges of hard-boiled egg. Ripe tomatoes, cucumber and an assertive dressing. But too many versions of Nicoise salad also feature those rubbery sliced black olives that make everything they touch taste like a Super Supreme.

Escargot

“Waiter, there’s a chewy slug in my parsley, garlic and butter!”

Underrated

Macarons

Hear me out – macarons are delicious. I will be taking no further comments. It’s easy to forget just how delicious, though, now that Coles has help-yourself tubs of the little guys, and cut-rate resorts like to put cut-rate versions on your pillow.

A macaron made with care and skill is the perfect two bites, and I’d urge anyone to splash out on a pack from La Belle Miette (there are stores in Sydney and Melbourne, and they can ship domestically) if you need a refresher in the form. (Pistachio is the best, followed by Strawberry Basque Cheesecake, not to mention the Blackberry and Limoncello.)

Pot-au-feu

I’m not sure why there isn’t more pot-au-feu in Australian restaurants, but it probably has something to do with the amount of time, effort and scum removal required to produce deeply flavoured, clean-tasting bouillon. That broth will then be used to slow-cook a piece of meat of your choosing (beef rib is good) and fashioned into a bonus soup course. The main-event protein is ideally served with tender, radiant vegetables, and the recipe may or may not have inspired pho in Vietnam. Tune in next week for a dissertation on tête de veau (calf’s head).

Steak au poivre

In the hot-chip dipping sauce power rankings, a properly sharp bearnaise comes in at number three. Gravy takes home the silver, naturally, and first place goes to poivre. Magical pan juices. Brandy. Black pepper. What’s not to love? (Tomato sauce is last, by the way. While White Crow has its place on a Four’N Twenty, it’s too sweet and tangy for chips. Please direct all feedback to letters@smh.com.au.)

Ratatouille

A real one, though – not the out-season vegetable medley passed off ratatouille that’s more of a stewed caponata that would earn you expulsion from Provence Cookery School. Thyme-enhanced tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant and capsicum – ripened to the height of their powers and roasted with care – is regional French cooking at its best.

Opera cake

With layers of buttercream, chocolate ganache and coffee-syrup-soaked almond sponge, the opera cake is a tiramisu that went to finishing school. Like pot-au-feu, you can’t just bang an opera cake in the oven and forget about it, and thus it will never compete in popularity with tarte tatin.