Article: (Long)French Women Don't Get Fat

February 6, 2005

'French Women Don't Get Fat': Like Champagne for Chocolate

By JULIA REED

hen I was 15, I studied in France, at the University of Strasbourg, for
six weeks. On weekdays, my fellow American students and I ate lunch in
the school cafeteria and discovered the wonders of braised rabbit and
coq au vin, followed always by an apricot tart or napoleon (my first
ever!) at the nearby patisserie. On weekends we toured the country by
train, fortified by bread and (real!) cheese, along with copious
amounts of cheap red wine. Already weight-obsessed, I was sure I'd put
on at least 10 pounds. But when I stepped off the plane, the jaws of my
waiting parents and my best friend literally dropped. It turns out I'd
lost 10 pounds -- I'm not sure I've looked as good since.

Mireille Guiliano had quite a different teenage experience abroad. As
an 18-year-old from a small town in eastern France, she spent a year as
an exchange student in the well-to-do Boston suburb of Weston, Mass.,
where she discovered the distinctly American joys of bagels, brownies
and chocolate chip cookies and gained 20 pounds. When her own parents
met her ocean liner in Le Havre, they were as stunned as mine were, but
for a different reason -- her father told her she looked like a sack of
potatoes. ''I could not have imagined anything more hurtful,'' she
writes. ''And to this day the sting has not been topped.''

Never fear -- Guiliano's story has a happy ending. After a few
miserable months during which she gains more weight, cries herself to
sleep and hurries past mirrors clothed in shapeless flannel shifts, her
mother brings in the family doctor, a k a ''Dr. Miracle.'' He detoxes
her with leek broth for a weekend, teaches her to become a master of
both her ''willpower'' and her ''pleasures,'' and supplies her with
recipes, including one for apple tart without the dough. She learns to
love walking, finds her ''equilibrium'' and goes on to become C.E.O. of
Clicquot Inc. and a director of Champagne Veuve Clicquot. Most
remarkably, despite the fact that she dines out 300 times a year and
enjoys two- and three-course meals for lunch and dinner every day --
always accompanied by a glass of Champagne -- she has remained thin.

Guiliano recommends Dr. Miracle's plan as the French way, but it is not
unlike the advice that American nutritionists on Web sites and at spas
and clinics across the country dispense every day. It is exactly the
advice I got last year at Dallas's Cooper Clinic during my annual
physical: if you want a glass of wine with dinner, don't eat the bread
or skip the baked potato. Do some aerobic exercise; if you're over 40,
lift weights. Keep a food diary and cut out the processed junk. Slowly
changing your eating habits is far more effective than any crash diet.
You don't have to deprive yourself if you learn to make trade-offs. And
on and on.

Somehow, though, these sensible stratagems are more palatable coming
from Guiliano, who was once fat herself, and who now happily lives in
America, where she first fell victim to our bad habits. She knows we
eat too fast in front of the TV or with newspaper in hand, while French
women make a ritual out of every meal. She knows we eat portions that
are too big and food that is too bland. French women, on the other
hand, stress flavor and variety over quantity and, therefore, are more
satisfied with less. (Bland food and too much of one kind, a big bowl
of pasta for example, breeds boredom, which leads you to alleviate it
by eating more.) She knows our tendency to gorge ourselves on Snickers
bars rather than savoring a single piece of fine dark chocolate. French
women eat slowly and ''with all five senses.''

Indeed, much is made of the superiority of French women in all things,
from chewing to ''using the same scarf to create a different effect''
to ''preserving spark and mystery'' in long-term relationships.
Apparently, they're even better at being happy -- ''the French woman
understands intuitively that one does not laugh because one is happy;
one is happy because one laughs.'' This gets a tad tiresome, but I
forgive Guiliano her patriotic fervor and her endless aphorisms because
she is on to something. After all, I lost 10 pounds by walking off my
daily pastry and eating small portions of once exotic dishes (at the
university cafeteria they never filled your plate). Also, who can blame
her for branding? If a lot of what she dispenses is universally sound
advice with a French label, she's smart to apply it. We may profess to
despise her compatriots in all their arrogance, but secretly we still
find Paris far sexier than South Beach.

I think our problem with the French has always been jealousy. We have
an inferiority complex, at least stylewise. French women can do more
with a scarf. We wish we had their innate chic, their effortless
discipline, their easy appreciation of all things sensual -- their
impossible thinness. When I begged my parents to send me abroad, it was
not to, say, Germany that I wished to go. Desperate to be
sophisticated, it was French that I wanted to learn, France that I
wanted to know. (Now of course, I wish I'd studied the far more useful
Spanish.) Despite all our achievements in what used to be the
exclusively French provinces of fashion, food and wine, the real
milestones for many of us remain our first Chanel suit, our first sip
of Petrus or Chateau d'Yquem, our first time at La Grenouille or La
Tour d'Argent. And then there is the fact that while close to
two-thirds of American adults are either obese or overweight, French
women really don't get fat.

The reason behind that most enviable difference, says Guiliano, is that
''French women take pleasure in staying thin by eating well, while
American women see it as a conflict and obsess over it.'' Put another
way, ''French women typically think about good things to eat. American
women typically worry about bad things to eat.'' She says she is
constantly appalled that American cocktail parties are filled with
chatter about diets, a subject that shouldn't be deemed proper
conversation. She says eating in America has become ''controversial
behavior'' and that our obsession with weight is growing into nothing
less than a ''psychosis'' that she believes adds stress ''to our
already stressful way of life,'' which is ''fast erasing the simple
values of pleasure.''

She urges us to relax. Walk to the market, breathe in the fresh herbs,
cook a good dinner, have a glass of wine or champagne (preferably Veuve
Clicquot). Just sip it slowly (she makes hers last through a meal). She
rejects the ''American rule'' of ''no pain, no gain'' and describes
exercise machines as a ''vestige of Puritanism: instruments of public
self-flagellation to make up for private sins of couch riding and
overeating.'' By all means go to the gym if you really love it, she
says. Otherwise take the stairs and pick up some weights in the privacy
of your own home. She finds walking an indulgence that allows time for
''freedom of thought,'' and says French women walk an average of three
times as much as American women do. She proudly reports that during the
2003 blackout she easily made it past the younger people in her
building who were huffing and puffing on the stairs.

Sometimes these ''simple values'' seem perhaps too simple. Many of us
need the discipline of the gym and don't have time to stroll to the
open-air market (which probably doesn't exist where we live) or set a
proper table twice a day. My own early lessons in the civilized life
sadly didn't take. The summer I returned from France, a McDonald's
opened in our town and a Big Mac suddenly seemed as exotic as a nicoise
salad. I failed miserably at what Guiliano calls ''recasting,''
emphasizing quality over quantity in both meals and exercise.

But, armed with her book, I am willing to try again. There is no
scientific ''food plan,'' just suggestions and seemingly indulgent
recipes, including one for fingerling potatoes and caviar. Guiliano
reminds us that a half-dozen oysters contain only 60 or 70 calories,
that soups fill you up and supply much-needed water to your body (''The
theory goes that the French, who eat soup up to five times a week for
dinner, eat better and less.'') Her mother's ''soupe aux légumes'' is
worth the price of the book alone, but I am less sure about her own
''Chicken au Champagne,'' which requires you to pour a cup of champagne
over some chicken breasts and then broil them. After tasting one, I can
say with certainty that I'd rather have the Champagne in the glass and
that I would definitely not serve the chicken to company along with, as
she suggests, brown rice and mushrooms. I'm also not entirely sure
about Dr. Miracle's apple ''tart'' with its cabbage leaf ''pastry''
(not for eating, necessarily, but ''for presentation''). Still, sans
cabbage leaf, it's a good idea, and her snapper with almonds is good
full stop, as is the delicious tagliatelle with lemon.

Guiliano ends the book with a list of more observations about French
women. They don't weigh themselves, they don't snack all the time, they
eat more fruit but would never give up their bread or other carbs. They
dress to take out the garbage, they understand the importance of a good
haircut and expensive perfume, they know love is slimming. Part of me
wanted to throw the book across the room, while the other part was
memorizing the list. I actually found myself resolving to learn to eat
with all five senses -- or at least to try to turn off ''All My
Children'' during lunch breaks. I did not even throw up when I got to
the line that encouraged me to savor ''all the little things that make
each day a miracle,'' so that I may not need a shot of Scotch (French
women don't drink hard liquor) or a quart of Haagen-Dazs to get me over
the top. At the very least, we would all do ourselves a favor to make
like Colette, for whom the table was ''a date with love and friendship
'' instead of the root of all evil.

Julia Reed is senior writer for Vogue and author of ''Queen of the
Turtle Derby and Other Southern Phenomena.''


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--
Diva
*****
The Best Man For The Job Is A Woman

In article , Carol Frilegh
wrote:

February 6, 2005

'French Women Don't Get Fat': Like Champagne for Chocolate

By JULIA REED

hen I was 15, I studied in France, at the University of Strasbourg, for
six weeks. On weekdays, my fellow American students and I ate lunch in
the school cafeteria and discovered the wonders of braised rabbit and
coq au vin, followed always by an apricot tart or napoleon (my first
ever!) at the nearby patisserie. On weekends we toured the country by
train, fortified by bread and (real!) cheese, along with copious
amounts of cheap red wine. Already weight-obsessed, I was sure I'd put
on at least 10 pounds. But when I stepped off the plane, the jaws of my
waiting parents and my best friend literally dropped. It turns out I'd
lost 10 pounds -- I'm not sure I've looked as good since.

Mireille Guiliano had quite a different teenage experience abroad. As
an 18-year-old from a small town in eastern France, she spent a year as
an exchange student in the well-to-do Boston suburb of Weston, Mass.,
where she discovered the distinctly American joys of bagels, brownies
and chocolate chip cookies and gained 20 pounds. When her own parents
met her ocean liner in Le Havre, they were as stunned as mine were, but
for a different reason -- her father told her she looked like a sack of
potatoes. ''I could not have imagined anything more hurtful,'' she
writes. ''And to this day the sting has not been topped.''

Never fear -- Guiliano's story has a happy ending. After a few
miserable months during which she gains more weight, cries herself to
sleep and hurries past mirrors clothed in shapeless flannel shifts, her
mother brings in the family doctor, a k a ''Dr. Miracle.'' He detoxes
her with leek broth for a weekend, teaches her to become a master of
both her ''willpower'' and her ''pleasures,'' and supplies her with
recipes, including one for apple tart without the dough. She learns to
love walking, finds her ''equilibrium'' and goes on to become C.E.O. of
Clicquot Inc. and a director of Champagne Veuve Clicquot. Most
remarkably, despite the fact that she dines out 300 times a year and
enjoys two- and three-course meals for lunch and dinner every day --
always accompanied by a glass of Champagne -- she has remained thin.

Guiliano recommends Dr. Miracle's plan as the French way, but it is not
unlike the advice that American nutritionists on Web sites and at spas
and clinics across the country dispense every day. It is exactly the
advice I got last year at Dallas's Cooper Clinic during my annual
physical: if you want a glass of wine with dinner, don't eat the bread
or skip the baked potato. Do some aerobic exercise; if you're over 40,
lift weights. Keep a food diary and cut out the processed junk. Slowly
changing your eating habits is far more effective than any crash diet.
You don't have to deprive yourself if you learn to make trade-offs. And
on and on.

Somehow, though, these sensible stratagems are more palatable coming
from Guiliano, who was once fat herself, and who now happily lives in
America, where she first fell victim to our bad habits. She knows we
eat too fast in front of the TV or with newspaper in hand, while French
women make a ritual out of every meal. She knows we eat portions that
are too big and food that is too bland. French women, on the other
hand, stress flavor and variety over quantity and, therefore, are more
satisfied with less. hing. After all, I lost 10 pounds by walking off my
daily pastry and e

Review by Amazon Customer;
Lee Mellott (Frederick, Maryland) and Russ (British Columbia) and
others have such great reviews it is hard to improve on what they have
said. So I will simply share that the book for me is more about
teaching American women how to change their mind set. The author really
does stress that one is what and how much they eat, as well as what
they think, speak, read, wear. She reminds me a great deal of how the
late actress Audrey Hepburn lived and thought. And it is true French
women as well as many European women walk more, eat less and overall
are committed to not being super women but being healthy, whole and
happy women. Am also reminded of the late Julia Child who never had a
weight problem, who in numerous interviews stressed the value of whole
foods like butter, cream, etc in moderation and not the 'low fat' foods
that actually encourage a person to eat more since they see 'low' and
think they can then eat more.

--
Diva
*****
The Best Man For The Job Is A Woman

thanks for the reprint carol........................my brother lives
in Marseille (approx. past 1 yrs) and his comments about how "they"
eat, vs. how the Americans eat, fit this description.

--
http://img195.exs.cx/my.php?loc=img1...dcp00330kx.jpg





"Carol Frilegh" wrote in message
...
: In article , Carol Frilegh
: wrote:
:
: February 6, 2005
:
: 'French Women Don't Get Fat': Like Champagne for Chocolate
:
: By JULIA REED
:
: hen I was 15, I studied in France, at the University of
Strasbourg, for
: six weeks. On weekdays, my fellow American students and I ate
lunch in
: the school cafeteria and discovered the wonders of braised
rabbit and
: coq au vin, followed always by an apricot tart or napoleon (my
first
: ever!) at the nearby patisserie. On weekends we toured the
country by
: train, fortified by bread and (real!) cheese, along with copious
: amounts of cheap red wine. Already weight-obsessed, I was sure
I'd put
: on at least 10 pounds. But when I stepped off the plane, the
jaws of my
: waiting parents and my best friend literally dropped. It turns
out I'd
: lost 10 pounds -- I'm not sure I've looked as good since.
:
: Mireille Guiliano had quite a different teenage experience
abroad. As
: an 18-year-old from a small town in eastern France, she spent a
year as
: an exchange student in the well-to-do Boston suburb of Weston,
Mass.,
: where she discovered the distinctly American joys of bagels,
brownies
: and chocolate chip cookies and gained 20 pounds. When her own
parents
: met her ocean liner in Le Havre, they were as stunned as mine
were, but
: for a different reason -- her father told her she looked like a
sack of
: potatoes. ''I could not have imagined anything more hurtful,''
she
: writes. ''And to this day the sting has not been topped.''
:
: Never fear -- Guiliano's story has a happy ending. After a few
: miserable months during which she gains more weight, cries
herself to
: sleep and hurries past mirrors clothed in shapeless flannel
shifts, her
: mother brings in the family doctor, a k a ''Dr. Miracle.'' He
detoxes
: her with leek broth for a weekend, teaches her to become a
master of
: both her ''willpower'' and her ''pleasures,'' and supplies her
with
: recipes, including one for apple tart without the dough. She
learns to
: love walking, finds her ''equilibrium'' and goes on to become
C.E.O. of
: Clicquot Inc. and a director of Champagne Veuve Clicquot. Most
: remarkably, despite the fact that she dines out 300 times a year
and
: enjoys two- and three-course meals for lunch and dinner every
day --
: always accompanied by a glass of Champagne -- she has remained
thin.
:
: Guiliano recommends Dr. Miracle's plan as the French way, but it
is not
: unlike the advice that American nutritionists on Web sites and
at spas
: and clinics across the country dispense every day. It is exactly
the
: advice I got last year at Dallas's Cooper Clinic during my
annual
: physical: if you want a glass of wine with dinner, don't eat the
bread
: or skip the baked potato. Do some aerobic exercise; if you're
over 40,
: lift weights. Keep a food diary and cut out the processed junk.
Slowly
: changing your eating habits is far more effective than any crash
diet.
: You don't have to deprive yourself if you learn to make
trade-offs. And
: on and on.
:
: Somehow, though, these sensible stratagems are more palatable
coming
: from Guiliano, who was once fat herself, and who now happily
lives in
: America, where she first fell victim to our bad habits. She
knows we
: eat too fast in front of the TV or with newspaper in hand, while
French
: women make a ritual out of every meal. She knows we eat portions
that
: are too big and food that is too bland. French women, on the
other
: hand, stress flavor and variety over quantity and, therefore,
are more
: satisfied with less. hing. After all, I lost 10 pounds by
walking off my
: daily pastry and e
:
: Review by Amazon Customer;
: Lee Mellott (Frederick, Maryland) and Russ (British Columbia) and
: others have such great reviews it is hard to improve on what they
have
: said. So I will simply share that the book for me is more about
: teaching American women how to change their mind set. The author
really
: does stress that one is what and how much they eat, as well as
what
: they think, speak, read, wear. She reminds me a great deal of how
the
: late actress Audrey Hepburn lived and thought. And it is true
French
: women as well as many European women walk more, eat less and
overall
: are committed to not being super women but being healthy, whole
and
: happy women. Am also reminded of the late Julia Child who never
had a
: weight problem, who in numerous interviews stressed the value of
whole
: foods like butter, cream, etc in moderation and not the 'low fat'
foods
: that actually encourage a person to eat more since they see 'low'
and
: think they can then eat more.
:
: --
: Diva
: *****
: The Best Man For The Job Is A Woman

"Carol Frilegh" wrote in message
...
: In article , Carol Frilegh
: wrote:
:
: February 6, 2005
:
: 'French Women Don't Get Fat': Like Champagne for Chocolate
:
: By JULIA REED
:
(snipped)

Most Europeans don't understand that the US is a huge country and the
amount of overweight people varies depending upon where you go. I've
been to France and they have about the same amount of overweight people
as we do in San Francisco. Now, when I travel to Chicago on business, I
see a lot more overweight people than I ever have here where I live.

Plus, us West Coasters are a hell of a lot more healthy than the
French.

The article says nothing about the French's disgusting habit of
smoking. They smoke everywhere there! We're light years away here in
that there is not smoking in any public building anywhere in the state
of California and in San Francisco alone, they're about to outlaw
smoking in many outside public areas and venues.

When France has done this, then they can claim to be healthier than us.

Martha

Black Metal Martha wrote:

The article says nothing about the French's disgusting habit of
smoking. They smoke everywhere there! We're light years away here in
that there is not smoking in any public building anywhere in the state
of California and in San Francisco alone, they're about to outlaw
smoking in many outside public areas and venues.

Thanks, Martha. I read the whole article and don't dispute the good
points made but I kept waiting for some mention of them all smoking like
chimneys. I'd bet they'd tell you it helps keep them thin, too.

--
Walking on . . .
Laurie in Maine
207/110 60 inches of attitude!
Start: 2/02 Maintained since 2/03

SnugBear wrote:
Black Metal Martha wrote:

The article says nothing about the French's disgusting habit of
smoking. They smoke everywhere there! We're light years away here
in
that there is not smoking in any public building anywhere in the
state
of California and in San Francisco alone, they're about to outlaw
smoking in many outside public areas and venues.

Thanks, Martha. I read the whole article and don't dispute the good
points made but I kept waiting for some mention of them all smoking
like
chimneys. I'd bet they'd tell you it helps keep them thin, too.

--

No kidding. I'm sure many French models use the well-known Super Model
Diet of ciggies and cocaine.

Martha

The French may still smoke, but I can assure you they smoke a *lot*
less than they did in the 1970s! They're getting there... slowly....

In article . com, Mrs
Redboots wrote:

The French may still smoke, but I can assure you they smoke a *lot*
less than they did in the 1970s! They're getting there... slowly....

You read an article with suggestions and tips about enjoying good food
with less concern and guilt and how to feel freer about one's self.

One woman who was successful and had some positive experiences shared
her impressions in two cultures.
It is so easy to respond with negatives and slap labels on people.

There are fat people in France
The French smoke too much etc etc.
The French are always drunk
The French are rude and ill tempered
The French dislike Americans
The French are too sexy
France is small
The French don't bathe every day
Napoleon ate too many pastries
Chanel couture is too expensive
They kiss funny
The best thing in France is their "Fries"
The French drive on the wrong side of the road
They drive too fast
Their movies have subtitles

Shall we just keep counting the fat people in SF and Chicago and BTW,
How do American models stay slim? Where did the expression "heroin
chic" originate? france or America?

My point is- Consider that the article was a personal experience and
the observations of one woman and she sounded like an intelligent woman
too. I for one will consider her observations and suggestions.

--
Diva
*****
The Best Man For The Job Is A Woman

Carol Frilegh wrote:
In article . com,
Mrs
Redboots wrote:

The French may still smoke, but I can assure you they smoke a *lot*
less than they did in the 1970s! They're getting there...
slowly....

You read an article with suggestions and tips about enjoying good
food
with less concern and guilt and how to feel freer about one's self.

One woman who was successful and had some positive experiences shared
her impressions in two cultures.
It is so easy to respond with negatives and slap labels on people.

There are fat people in France
The French smoke too much etc etc.
The French are always drunk
The French are rude and ill tempered
The French dislike Americans
The French are too sexy
France is small
The French don't bathe every day
Napoleon ate too many pastries
Chanel couture is too expensive
They kiss funny
The best thing in France is their "Fries"
The French drive on the wrong side of the road
They drive too fast
Their movies have subtitles

Shall we just keep counting the fat people in SF and Chicago and BTW,
How do American models stay slim? Where did the expression "heroin
chic" originate? france or America?

My point is- Consider that the article was a personal experience and
the observations of one woman and she sounded like an intelligent
woman
too. I for one will consider her observations and suggestions.


I know what your point was, but don't post something if you can't take
disagreement. Not everyone is going to agree with everything posted,
you ought to know that by now. Think thick skin.

Martha

Not true. A year ago Deutsche Welle was reporting that France and indeed
the rest of Europe have the same problems as the US and for the same
reasons.