French women eat for quality
SALLY WATTS
Monday, August 25, 2008
Editor's note: Charleston freelance writer Sally Watts recently lost 37.5 pounds through the Focus program at the Medical University of South Carolina's Weight Management Center. Her total weight loss since the beginning of the year is 48.4 pounds. This column is part of an ongoing series of biweekly columns updating her journey and progress.
'French Women Don't Get Fat." It's an envy-inspiring observation as well as the title of a 2005 book recommended to me by a reader. Author Mireille Guiliano, chief executive officer of Clicquot Inc., maker of Veuve Clicquot Champagne, knows a little something about American vs. French dining. She gained 20 pounds when she was an exchange student in America as a teenager, and lost the weight after returning home and reverting to French habits. Short of booking an Air France flight stat, how can American women benefit from the apparent secrets of French health and weight control? From the outset, it's important to note that the French approach is a comprehensive lifestyle and philosophy system. Some people hear about the highly studied and controversial French Paradox, in which the rate of heart disease is much lower in France despite relatively high consumption of saturated dairy fats, and which is typically attributed to higher consumption of red wine. They then decide they're justified in polishing off a bottle of wine and a hunk of cheese every night. But if that's in addition to microwave pizzas, breakfast burritos, Pop-Tarts and Cokes, then all they've done is help hasten that eventual visit to the cardiologist. Guiliano's recommended approach is based more on portion control and placing high value on quality foods. She says French women do not strictly deprive themselves or count calories. They eat and would have it no other way — it's one of the great joys of life — but they focus on the freshest, finest foods. Eating well is an art in France, and one would no more overstuff oneself than an artist would keep throwing paint onto a completed canvas. I think that's a hard mind-set to acquire and maintain in our culture. I got a laugh one time at MUSC after a weigh-in. I passed several conversing medical residents, and one of them said, "The thing is, I don't believe in any sort of self-deprivation." Well, exactly. Conspicuous, excessive and unashamed consumption and self-gratification seem to be increasingly the norm and goal in our fast-food, reality-TV, American way of thinking about and living life. Obviously, one does not get through medical school without some degree of self-deprivation, but even the most disciplined among us might be reluctant to label it as such. Let's face it, in our general culture, monastic is out; extravagance is in. But the reason Guiliano says the French approach works is that it relies on extravagances of quality, not quantity. If we can recalibrate our idea of what a proper food portion is, she says, we can lose weight in relative freedom from restrictions, gyms and calorie counting. She recommends buying a kitchen scale and strictly weighing and recording everything eaten for a few weeks, and then studying food habits to identify changes and see where reasonable cutbacks and additions can be made. She is also a fan of enjoying the bounty and sweetness of fresh fruits and vegetables. The approach recommends adopting the French lifestyle of open-air marketing, which for us means trying several times a week to buy in-season fruit that's actually sitting in the sun when you select it. Roadside stands, backyard gardens and community supported agriculture groups are excellent sources. The book also says yogurt and bread are great diet choices in moderation. But she means making your own bread from rich grains and whole ingredients, and making or buying fresh yogurt without additives and sugars. Essentially, the nutritional advice centers around avoiding anything packaged with carnival-colored plastic and preservatives. Guiliano says that stuff is no good anyway, nutritionally or in terms of taste. French women know that the indulgence of a good ounce of the finest Belgian dark hazelnut chocolate will beat out a Snickers bar any day. Finally, Guiliano says that French women walk, walk, walk, and it shows. When I checked the book out of the local library, the librarian looked at the title and remarked, "French women don't get fat because they walk everywhere in high heels." While podiatrists might cringe at the thought that the stiletto heel may be one of the secrets of slim French women, it seems clear that their pedestrian lifestyle does make a real difference. It's something worth emulating, however, and whenever we can.
E-mail Sally Watts at sidlesup@yahoo.com.
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