Stepping towards food

Roger Cohen’s column in yesterday’s New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/31/opinion/31iht-edcohen.html?_r=1) beautifully said much of what I had been mulling for some days. To wit: I posit that the French have a different attitude toward food than Americans, even Michael Pollan. Let me say first that I hesitate to use the term “American” in the sense of covering all of the inhabitants of the USA. This is an old Spanish hang-up, because we feel that Argentinians and Brazilians and Venezuelans and Panamanians can also be designated by that geographic term. But it is a sign of the US predominance and weight both North and South, that they have come to designate themselves with a toponymic that actually should be shared.

And, of course, not all of the US Americans share the same attitudes about food and eating. Whatever they are, they are different from the French. I suspect that I could safely generalize by saying that Americans approach food with suspicion, they want to know what is in it (unless it is a raw carrot, for instance), and wonder if it will harm them. The French are more trusting, they aim at a finished product, a flavor effect that is understood. To explain myself, they know what to expect from “moules marinière” without having to know that it is a dish of mussels steamed in white wine and broth, seasoned with onions and garlic and parsley. They will -I would include myself- argue about the particular merits of a “boeuf bourguignon” and attribute the success of the production on the inclusion or exclusion of a certain ingredient, even if they do not identify it (that is where the expression “un certain je-ne-sais-quoi” -a certain I do not know what, comes from).

I remarked the other day that it is rare to see anybody munching a sandwich while walking on the streets, or carrying a large latte in their hands. It is part of that attitude towards eating that understands that it will take a certain time, it is best done sitting down and in the company of friends. At 12 noon the terraces, cafés, restaurants, trattorias, bistrots, estaminets and casse-croutes fill with office employees all over town who will devote the next hour or so to consume a meal offered under the name “formule” -as in proposal- covering generally a meat, mostly beef in different forms, with a salad, french fried potatoes and possibly a dessert. The price will lie, according to location and quality of the establishment, between 8 and 20 Euros (presently $12- $30), will include bottled water, though generally not the concluding expresso. If you want, MacDonald’s offers much of the same, and I am sure that their Paris establishments do brisk business, but they are not the favored venue for most people.

Therefore I reach the conclusion that the French are more inclined to devote both more time and disposable income to what they ingest than the average American. They also seem to enjoy it more.

The fact that many people walk through the streets of Paris has to do, in my view, that they have more places to walk to, like restaurants and cafés, movie theaters and other venues, as well as a plethora of shops of all descriptions spread out all over the city, in all quarters, and of many price ranges. As most tourists or three-day visitors to Paris never find out, you do not have to pay $10 for a small bottle of Perrier or a short beer. It is available for half that two or three blocks away from the madding crowd. As an example I can drink a morning coffee with croissant on the rue de Rivoli, near the Louvre for $7.50, or downstairs from my apartment on the same rue de Rivoli, now called rue Saint Antoine, for $4.

Nothing is pleasanter, in my opinion, than stepping out in the morning, walking two blocks to buy a baguette and a newspaper, coming back home and, after a while, descending again to the fruiterer, or to the fishmonger or wine merchant, stopping for an expresso on the way. It is not a matter of being modern or not, it is pleasant. Even if you have a busy morning making money instead of spending it, you will find pleasure in closing a deal initiated over email at a restaurant table. And as long as they find it pleasant, people will want to continue doing it.

It is this pleasure, and the walking, and the eating only at certain traditional times and nothing in between, that keep, I think, the remarkable outline of Parisian bodies.

Somebody commented on Roger Cohen’s openly Francophile article, saying that the USA’s per capita GDP grew last year by 50% more than France’s. Seeing that per capita GDP is an average and therefore a very fallacious measure, I think that such a remark can only stem from envy.

But, of course, I could be wrong.