Each of these rustic sauces conveys a strong sense of place. Pistou, with its basil and Parmesan cheese, could come only from Provence, and Sauce au Vin Jaune et Morilles personifies the Jura. Moving farther north, the sauces mute and their colors pale, reflecting the softer greens and grays of the landscape. The buttery delicacy of a Breton Beurre Blanc is a far cry from the garlic-laden Aïoli and the olive and anchovy Tapenade of the Mediterranean.
These rustic creations exist a world away from a smart city kitchen, with its structured cuisine and classic mother sauces. A country cook draws on local ingredients that are tasty but cheap —herbs, wine, garlic, onion, shallot — and pulls them together with butter, cream, or olive oil. There are characteristic ways of making these sauces, of course, but often the cook adds a personal twist. Rouille is a good example. Based on egg yolks and olive oil spiced with chili, Rouille can be peaceful and mild or aggressively pungent, stiff enough to hold a spoon upright or dense but fluid, tingling with garlic or fiery red with tomato paste. Some cooks like to thicken it with bread crumbs, though not me.