Rebecca's Christmas gift this year was a fun little book about French nuances. One of the chapters chronicles how French women seem to never moderate their consumption of fine wine, chocolate, and cheese, and yet they are rarely overweight, seeming instead to grow more beautiful with age. One theory advanced in the little book is that this phenomenon is simply a by-product of a way of life, often expressed "C'est La Vie!" I would describe it as more of an art form in which one savors each and every physical, pleasurable, sensation of living. For example, I have rarely seen anyone eat or drink on the Metro. When I asked Madame about this, she explained that the typical lunch in Paris last two hours. Small shops and businesses literally close for two hours. Every day. Our French class lets out at 1:00, and Ron and I often stop for lunch before heading off on our next adventure. As I am able to understand more and more of the language, I pick up bits of the casual conversations overheard at lunch. Not surprising, it is often about food. The food they are eating. The food eaten the day before, or to be eaten that night. It is as if every meal counts, so every bite counts.
I am baffled by the idea of a meal as a pleasurable activity, baffled even more by the idea of allocating something as precious as time to something as utilitarian as food. In all fairness to myself, I am transitioning from a busy career to retirement, so the luxury of time is fundamentally unfamiliar. But I am making progress. In the past week, I have only caught myself twice standing over the sink gulping down breakfast. My new breakfast routine is to open the blinds in the living room to whatever sunshine Paris has to offer, open the window a bit to the cold morning air, and enjoy every spoonful of cereal and every last sip of coffee.
I find myself paying more attention while I eat, and to what I eat. Not once since I arrived have I said "I shouldn't" to food. [I can almost hear Madame: "What is this shouldn't? Do you want a piece of cake, or not?!"] Have I lost any weight? Not exactly. This is Paris! But I find that the food tastes better. It could just be fresher. It could be the lack of preservatives. It could be the shorter distance from farm to table. Or it could simply be that I have taken the time to taste. C'est la vie...
Comments