A man lowers his lettuce gently into a shopping basket. Two small children are meticulously considering which earth-covered potatoes to pick. An elderly lady smiles to herself as her husband pretends not to know exactly which apricot pastry he is going to choose. It’s Sunday morning in the French town of Nîmes. While most shops are closed and the streets deserted, Les Halles the covered market, is packed with locals ordering freshly roasted chicken, selecting cheeses from an impossibly large collection and even enjoying wine and olives at a small bar tucked between the stalls.
I am struck, as I always am, by the vibrant colours and eclectic mix of sights and smells that surround me. I pay for my courgettes, on a whim splash out on a punnet of local strawberries, and head outside into the warm April sunshine. How is it that in a country with some of the best bread, cheese and patisserie in the world, the problem of obesity which plagues the UK is almost absent?
While living in the south of France, I have gradually come to appreciate the merits of the French way of eating.
As exemplified by Les Halles, the French tend to prioritise fresh, local produce; and perhaps more importantly, they eat what’s in season. Even in large supermarkets, the fruit and veg on offer changes significantly depending on the time of year; strawberries cannot be bought in December, nor clementines in June. Far more than at home, the French people are in tune with the natural seasonal cycle. In spring, the markets are awash with asparagus and strawberries; “c’est la saison”, I am told with pride.
I have also come to value the fact the French way of eating emphasises the importance of three regular meals a day. Whereas in Britain the possibility of purchasing lunch ‘to go’ is a selling point, the French stop at midday to eat a proper meal, typically spending an hour or two eating with friends or colleagues. Shops and schools close, restaurants open their doors and people take a break from their day to relax and socialise.
In the primary school where I worked, the teachers sit down together after heating up their Tupperware filled with home cooked food or, at worst, unwrapping a slice of freshly prepared quiche bought from the bakery next door. The culture of ‘meal deals’ and constant snacking has not reached France; and it's better for it. Rather than unthinkingly bolting down a sandwich at their desk or simply grazing all day, people savour their mealtimes, consciously enjoying both the food and the company.
This is not to say that the French do not enjoy their famous bread and pastries; quite the opposite.
In contrast to the fad diets and wild claims of foods sabotaging your weight loss battle which have infiltrated British lives, the French attitude is more one of ‘everything in moderation’. In keeping with the stereotype, baguette forms part of every meal; yet unlike in the UK, it is not labelled as ‘bad’ owing to its refined-carb status, it is simply white bread which, when eaten in combination with a variety of other foods, is perfectly healthy.
The French don’t diet; rather, they have a culture and heritage that prioritises and values food. Food is a pleasure, it is sociable, it is carefully prepared and seasonal and varied. It deserves to be enjoyed. It is about balance; food should not be a battle. This is the French savoir-vivre which as a country, we would do well to learn from.