It was reported last week that the price of brussels sprouts has risen by 203% since last Christmas. Almost simultaneously, we learnt that more Britons are moving abroad than at any time in recent history.

Clearly, these phenomena are related. As the sprout crisis threatens the very heart of the British Christmas dinner, wise people are getting out while there’s still time.

But what might they expect of festive eating abroad — and, more specifically, in France? For a start, no sprouts or, indeed, crackers. Both are considered particularly British pleasures. And the meal itself sprawls through Christmas Eve rather than over Christmas Day.

For the rest, well, please read on — you might find some inspiration for your own festivities. You might even join the great escape.

OYSTERS

Refusing an oyster on the grounds that it’s alive and looks like mucus is the French equivalent of refusing Christmas pudding because it’s dead and looks like landfill. Distinctly non-festive.

My favourites come not from Normandy, Brittany or the Atlantic coast, but from the Etang de Thau, a sea-water lagoon back from the Med, behind Sète. Tideless waters mean the molluscs mature quicker, with a more pronounced oystery taste.

Learn this yourself in Bouzigues, a fishing village on the lagoon shore. At the Arseillère oyster bar (17 Avenue Louis Tudesq), shellfish man Jean-Pierre Molina will tell you oysters don’t need sprinkling with lemon juice or vinegar. If they’ve got their own water, they’re good enough to eat straight. Grab a glass of local Picpoul de Pinet white, some rye bread, an oyster and. . . “Don’t gulp it down!” he cries. People who gulp are afraid of oysters. Chew it.”

To stay: Grand Hôtel, Sète (17 Quai de Tassigny; 00 33-4 67 74 71 77, www.legrand hotelsete.com; doubles from £61). Class in a canalside setting.

To eat: best in Bouzigues is La Côte Bleue (Avenue Louis Tudesq; 04 67 78 30 87; menus from £21).

FOIE GRAS

In Britain, admitting a taste for foie gras lumps you in with the snuff-movie fraternity. The French couldn’t care less. It’s their second Christmas course.

If you remain horrified, skip directly to the section below. If not, follow me to the Gers département in Gascony, which produces France’s finest foie gras. Comely hills roll up to woodland and down to rivers. Old-fashioned farming defines the landscape — and geese and ducks waddle about vast paddocks like mildly outraged aldermen. Stop at La Ferme de Mounet, on the Route de Parleboscq outside Eauze, a stately setup where fowl are raised free-range, and remain free for the force-feeding. “That should appeal to English people, no?” says Mounet’s Monique Molas.

If you can’t get to Eauze, buy from www.ferme-de-mounet.com. A 300g jar of duck foie gras (enough for six) costs about £33. Then all you need is toasted country bread and wine. Sauternes works, but if you’re going for broke, try a rich, white Saussignac from British producer Patricia Atkinson’s Clos d’Yvigne vineyard near Bergerac. A half-case is £148.80 from www.cdywine.com .

To stay: Logis des Cordeliers, Condom (Rue de la Paix; 00 33-5 62 28 03 68, www.logisdescordeliers.com; doubles from £34). Modern, calm and practical.

To eat: nearby, La Table des Cordeliers (Rue des Cordeliers; 05 62 68 43 82, www.latabledescordeliers.fr; menus from £27). Great food in a former chapel.

POULTRY

No surprise for the main course. As in Britain, turkeys and capons in France face turbulent times in the days ahead. The French, though, make more of a fanfare about it.

First stop is the Bresse region, north of Lyon. The wooded pastureland is peppered with half-timbered farmhouses whose owners claim, with beguiling French modesty, to produce the finest chickens and capons in the world. White-feathered and blue-legged, the free-range birds have their own AOC and get draped in the tricolore for sale.

Call in on a farmer. Joël Billet, at the Ferme du Poirier in Montrevel-en-Bresse (00 33-4 74 30 82 97), will sell you a capon for about £17 per kilo and a fattened pullet for £12 per kilo. The prices will make you cluck, but they’re more expensive still in the shops. “And please ring ahead,” says Joël. “Our birds go fast.”

Meanwhile, the turkey trot is a shorter trip. France’s tastiest gobblers are at Licques, 5 miles south of Calais. The Licques turkey festival bursts to life from December 15-17.

If you can’t make that, nip to the abattoir-cum-showroom on Rue de l’Abbé Pruvost (03 21 35 05 42, www.licques-volailles.fr). You’ll pick up a fine turkey for £5.75 per kilo. The French would eat it with chestnut stuffing and, perhaps, a lighter Burgundy red.

To stay and eat: in Bresse, Hostellerie du Moulin de Bourgchâteau, Louhans (Route de Chalon; 03 85 75 37 12, www.bourgchateau. com; doubles from £45). Well-converted water mill. Restaurant menus from £22.

In the Pas-de-Calais, Château de Cocove, Recques-sur-Hem (Avenue de Cocove; 03 21 82 68 29, www.chateaudecocove. com; doubles from £66).

It’s a grand manor house in parkland, with poultry on the £19 menu.

CHEESE

Roquefort is obligatory on the festive French cheeseboard. It’s rich, therefore Christmassy, but also sharp, so cuts through gluttony to the essential. The necessary sheep graze on the arid limestone plateaux at the southern end of the Massif Central. Below run the gorges of the Tarn, Jonte and Dourbie. The milk is made into cheese, which is then taken to the village of Roquefort-sur-Soulzon (pop: 800), near Millau. Both tradition and law require that roquefort be matured in the labyrinth of caverns that honeycombs the rock. Natural fissures ensure the right temperature and humidity to perfect the blue-green speckling.

And the largest producer, Roquefort Société (00 33-5 65 58 54 38, www.roquefort-societe.com; visits £2), opens its caves year-round. If you’ve bought some (about £11 per kilo), team it with country bread and a mellow white such as Jurançon or Coteaux du Layon.

To stay and eat: the Grand Hôtel de la Muse et du Rozier at Peyreleau (05 65 62 60 01, www.hotel-delamuse.fr; doubles from £61). Venerable building, contemporary design, glorious gorges setting. Menus from £35.

DESSERT

In Provence, they’ll try to foist upon you their famous collection of 13 Christmas desserts. Resist. They’re less festive than muesli. More mainstream French tradition requires a Christmas log: rolled sponge, flavoured with vanilla, praline, coffee, Grand Marnier or similar, covered with chocolate and decorated perhaps with elves.

Relentless research hasn’t turned up a headline region for this item. In any case, the best French housewives (eg, mine) make their own. If you don’t have a French wife, find the leading patisserie wherever you happen to be, and buy your bûche there. Drink champagne: demi-sec if you want to complement the pud’s sweetness, brut if you care more about the champagne than the log.