Carb Overload

I think I have eaten enough bread these past few weeks to last me a lifetime.  When I think about how much bread I regularly eat at home, it is no more than a small fraction of how much I consume here.  In my host family, it seems I am offered bread at each meal.  In Montpellier, or in any French town for that matter, the abundance of patisseries and boulangeries is almost as noticeable as the alarmingly large number of pharmacies on every corner.  It's safe to say that bread is a French staple and makes up a large portion of the diet here.  And why shouldn't it? French bread is delicious and unparalleled by any variety I've tasted in the U.S.  Between all the sandwich shops and bakeries offering their tempting fare every few steps, I seriously wondered how everyone here seems to be so thin.  I got my answer soon enough a few days later at dinner with my host mother, Michèle.  We were talking about eating habits and the differences between France and America.  She was describing what she usually eats for breakfast and I asked her if she often ate croissants.  She laughed and said if she ate croissants every day she would be 300 pounds.  I found this hilarious because my host mother is anything but big.  I should have known that assuming the French eat croissants on a daily basis is as much a stereotype as thinking that everyone in Paris walks around all day wearing berets and carrying baguettes (okay the baguette part is somewhat true).  On a similar note, some French students were shocked when I asked them if they often ate sandwiches for lunch.  I had to ask since there seem to be sandwich shops everywhere you look here.  They replied that they rarely ate sandwiches for lunch, only if they were really pressed for time.  As beloved as bread is here, most of the locals aren't constantly eating the buttery pastries and confections that they are famous for.  It wouldn't surprise me if all of the fattening fare being offered by so many local establishments is more targeted toward tourists than the people that actually live here.

As much as the French seem to limit what and how much they eat, they love to talk about food.  Most of the dinner conversations I've been a part of since my arrival have centered around the topic of "la nourriture."  While this obviously isn't true for everyone, it certainly seems to be the case for my host family.  Before I came here, I didn't know it was possibly to debate for hours what the best patisserie was in Paris or where the best macarons could be found in Montpellier.  Food is an inherent part of French culture and a passionate subject here.  Even the way they eat food here is much different than at home.  Mealtimes are sacred and often take around two hours.  As an American, used to rushing from one thing to the next, I have to make a conscious effort to slow down and just enjoy the experience.  Normally, I tend to eat smaller amounts more frequently during the day, undoubtably a product of the typical, fast paced American lifestyle that lends itself so easily to eating on the go. This habit is one that is proving to be very difficult to break now that I live in a place where its only acceptable to eat at designated mealtimes.  Michèle and her brother, Alain, both adhere to this strict French regimen.  Breakfast is eaten at around eight or nine in the morning.  Lunch is at about one in the afternoon and dinner isn't eaten until eight at night.  Meals are generous and well balanced to ensure that hunger doesn't strike in between.  Supposedly.  I'm still unconvinced.  Alain informed me that if I do get hungry in that seven or eight hour stretch between lunch and dinner, it's acceptable to eat an apple.  A whole apple!  Most evenings, I'm still ravenous by five, about the time I would be eating dinner in the States.  While I knew I would have to change some of my eating habits when I moved here, it's still harder than I thought it would be and will definitely take some getting used to...