How France Saved Me from an Eating Disorder
Before I left for my first trip to Europe, I'd spent a good portion of my college years living on white rice, toast, salad, and multivitamins (and cheap beer, of course). I ran every day, and while I was never skeletal, I was pretty skinny. I continued to lose weight when I traveled around Europe en route to Angers, France, and I often got comments about how tiny I was. I don't think it's a stretch to suggest that I would've continued my habits had not the culinary attitudes of the French intervened. Once I settled in to my host family's routine, which involved a 3-course dinner every night, I could feel the flab coming on. I resisted for a good month, by avoiding patisseries and making myself jog. And one day, the voice that told me white rice with bouillon cubes was tasty just changed its mind, and I made the choice to enjoy my time in France and worry about my weight when I returned to the U.S. There would be no forcing myself out running in striped tights with these sophisticated French women giving me strange looks. I was NOT going to eat rice while everyone else ate flan.
And so I learned to enjoy food the way many French people do: slowly and simply. Granted, I tended to go for seconds when no one else did. And since I lived out of town, I Thanks to wander.lust on Flickr for the memory of dessert cases filled with eclairs and tartes, which, thank goodness, I didn't not often pass by.
Filed under: Food and Drink, Europe, North America, France













Reader Comments (Page 1 of 1)
Oct 15th 2007 @ 1:22AM
Diane said...
I remember traveling with you in Anger and every photo I have of me I am eating a different pastry. I wasn't leaving France without trying them all!!!
And I do recall how much you loved the chocolate filled croissants!
CI MUM
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