Me, the girl who can say no to nothing, especially food, can get into a lot of trouble in a city named the gastronomic capital of France. And it's true--okok, so I gained five pounds, lay off. No biggie. I'm just filling out! It's my late growth spurt, big deal. But seriously, how could I have avoided the extra weight. The food here is, well, to die for.
But it's true, french women really don't get fat. At dinner tonight on Rue Merciere with my dad, Diane, and sis, I realized that I think the French, and maybe Europeans in general, have a different, and healthier, relationship with food. It seems like food isn't a Frenemy. Meaning, food isn't constantly a love-hate relationship for them. Food is a necessity for living, and because of this, it can't be avoided. So instead of trying to fight it (like adding loads of refined sugars or trans/saturated fats or robbing it of all taste by making it "diet") they eat the food as it really is. They embrace it, I guess. It sounds cheezy, I know, and I'm really not poo-pooing america because it's like trendy or something. It just seems that the French have so much more fun with food. Because food will be around for eternity, they have come to appreciate it the same way that we appreciate our family, our community, our, um, our cars?
Call me crazy, but I think these French are on to something.