Getting Back Into The Swing of Things

For some reason, I'm finding it very hard to get back into my French routine. Early in the week, I came up with menus for this week. Tuesday, I was supposed to make a Salade Niçoise, with imported Spanish tuna in olive oil, green beans, hard-boiled potatoes and eggs, and other assorted delicious and healthy components.

But then, it started to get late and I realized I didn't have the right tuna on hand, so instead, I went to Johnny Rockets and ordered this:

Well, at least I didn't get the shake or the fries. But still, it was not exactly the best thing I could have chosen to eat. Still, you could argue that the French diet is all about freedom and not having foods be labelled as "off limits". In a certain sense, that is true. Having a hamburger out is not going to kill you or completely derail you. The problem, of course, is that this was not the only poor choice I'd made this week. Tuesday and Wednesday's lunches were both eaten out, and were both not the healthiest.

Last night, I did manage to go to the market and get ingredients for a home-cooked meal, and it was reasonably French. And tonight, I had some fish with some oven fries and a tomato mozzarella salad. 

So, all in all, there have been some hits and a few misses.  

And that's what got me thinking, "Why is it so hard to get back on track once you've gone off of it??" Is it because I'm still trying to make the French diet second nature and forming a new habit takes time? Or, to put it another way, "Will this ever get any easier??" I hope so. 

Maybe it's just like any other thing that requires some discipline and you just have to keep at it. Today, for instance, I went for a bike ride. I probably did about 6-7 miles when all was said and done, and boy, was I out of shape. Any prior progress seems to have vanished and I was having to shift down sooner and for longer stretches of time. But the good news is I rode, and I pushed myself to go a bit farther than I originally planned, just to stretch a bit. If I go for another ride again soon, then I will notice that I'm making progress and not having to start all over again.  Maybe I just have to do that with my diet, as well. Just make sure that there is always some French element to it, so that I don't feel like I've lost ground and am starting back at ground zero all over again.

Time will tell...

Reality Check: "Plus Size" Style

Last night I was flipping through the July issue of InStyle magazine. I came across an article on "plus size" style and there was this woman, dressed in a few different outfits, showing off her summer "plus size" style.

Monsieur glanced over, from his comfy perch on the sofa, and said, "Oh, she looks like you! Same cute shape." 

This, of course, was meant as a compliment. He didn't see that the title that pronounced this "plus size" style.

I looked at the model closely. Her face is only partially in the photo. Probably to protect the poor thing's anonymity and spare her the "plus size" stigma.

As I examined her cooly, I realized my husband was right. If I caught my reflection in a mirror or some shop window, and I cut my head off, I would look like that woman.

Le sigh...

Let's be real. I am 5'2" and wear a size 12. I am currently plus size!

Luckily, this experience did not send me running for a tub of ice cream or a batch of chocolate bars. (I have sometimes suffered from some degree of emotional eating, as you will already know if you've read any of my earlier posts, but never really like that.)  Instead, it made me realize a few things.

First, I'm very lucky because Monsieur still thinks I'm cute despite the fact that I'm not at my best and I resemble a "plus size" model in a magazine.

And second, I need to remind myself that, as a French woman might put it, I deserve to be svelte and fit and attractive. As a result, I must make taking care of myself a top priority. I must make regular, reasonable exercise a part of my routine. I must prepare delicious, fresh, home-cooked meals for myself. I must sit down at a beautifully set table and enjoy a leisurely meal. These aren't things I should do. They are things I must do. Why? Because time is fleeting and I've been given this one life and I should appreciate it and appreciate my body for the miracle that it is. I mean, if I don't take care of me then who will??

So, while last night's experience did sting a little bit, it was a much needed reminder that I must focus on respecting my body, respecting my health, respecting myself.  (Especially since I was lazy in my food choices at both lunch and dinner yesterday!!)

A Gentle Reminder

I went to a local bakery for a baguette for tonight's dinner. Monsieur is grilling some thin steaks and we're expecting a friend of his to join us.

While I waited in line to pay, a young woman was tending to her two small, very blonde children, and talking with them in lightening fast French. When the clerk asked her how he could help her, she said (in very good, but heavily accented, English), "For tonight, I'll take one demi-baguette."

I had considered ordering a demi-baguette myself. As a snack. For myself. Alone.

She, however, was going to split a demi-baguette (which really looked like more of a one-third-of-a-baguette instead of a demi) with her two kids.

Next time I'm asking myself WWFD maybe I'll have to remember this lady.

And, as if I needed to say it-- she was slim.

Letting Go

"Experts" say it takes anywhere from 21 to 30 days to break a habit. I don't know if that's true, since I can't recall many instances where I've actively decided to change a bad habit. 

A few times I've had to go cold turkey and give something up. Case in point: I learned I had some food allergies/intolerances. The consequences of eating these foods were unpleasant enough to make it pretty easy to give them up and not look back.

But in general, I have not really had much success in changing my stripes.

For example, this past weekend we ordered a cake for Monsieur's birthday. We were expecting 20 people so I ordered a big cake and it seemed even larger once it arrived. We still have quite a bit left, despite the fact that we had cake on Saturday, Sunday and  last night. And it's still remarkably fresh and tasty.

The point is, though, that both Monsieur and I are having a hard time just letting it go and feeling that it's okay to throw the leftover cake away. Neither of us works in a place where it'd be easy to bring the leftover cake, either, or else this would be an option:

Joking aside, though, why is it so hard to let go? Despite my best efforts to adjust my mindset and ask myself WWFD and think like a French person, my first instinct is to think, "Oooh, cake! I never get a good cake like this! I have to enjoy it!!" 

The idea that I never get cake is what's at the heart of my hesitation but it is a totally erroneous assumption!! I give myself plenty of treats, believe me. And, if I really starting thinking like a French person, I would know that there will always be another opportunity to have cake. In fact, I am allowed to go get myself some cake anytime I darn well please, because, well, "I'm worth it!" and so there is no reason to fear I won't ever have another chance at having a slice of cake again.  

When you really look at what is motivating you (fear) and how your mind is working (irrationally) then you really start to realize how ridiculous it all is!!

So, perhaps the "experts" are right and it is just a matter of time until you can change how you think and drop a bad habit. I guess we'll see.

Anyway, gotta go. Have to go throw away some leftover cake!

à bientôt!

Dilemma: Baking Enthusiast or Svelte Sensation?

I celebrated my birthday in April, and Monsieur offered me an extra-special opportunity as my birthday gift: a week-long class at the San Francisco Baking Institute on Pastry. The class promises to teach you "how to master pastry doughs and use them to create an unlimited variety of exciting pastries."  

As I may have mentioned before, I love pastries in general, and French-style patisserie (Paris-Brest pastries, éclairs, Breton tarts, etc.) best of all.

So, here's my dilemma: 

If I'm trying to lose weight and I know that pastries are a particular weakness, should I really be signing up for a week-long, intensive baking class like this?? Am I just playing with fire? Courting disaster? Sabotaging myself? [Insert confused look here]

Sounds like it's time to resurrect the old WWFD (What would a French person do?) strategy here.  Going to mull it over and I'll let you know what I decide.

Feedback/comments/advice are always welcome...  :)

Resisting temptation

Every once in a while, I am tempted to revert back to my bad (eating) habits. When that happens, I have a sure strategy to emerge victorious. Let me share how I came up with it.

Not too long ago, I had planned on preparing a very healthy, very French sort of dinner. I was going to grill some tilapia and serve it with a small side salad and a baked potato. But then, in the afternoon, my husband called to ask if he could meet a friend who was going to be in the area for dinner. Suddenly, the idea of preparing the menu I'd planned, just for myself, seemed wholly unappealing. As I drove home that evening, temptation struck.

The guy in red said, "It's late and by the time you get home, do you really want to start cooking? Cooking fish? Tilapia is so...boring. Why not have something that you wouldn't eat with Monsieur? What about Chipotle? Mmm...a burrito with some chips and some guacamole would taste soooo good!"

The one in white said, "But you already thawed the tilapia! It has to be cooked today or it will go to waste. And the meal you planned is so balanced...so French!! Besides, it will take just as long to stop and pick up food at Chipotle as it would to just prepare what you have at home. And a Chipotle burrito is huge!"

There I was, in the middle, much as poor Homer is in the cartoon above. What should I do? 

Then, all of a sudden, it hit me. I shouldn't be asking myself what should I do, but WWFD--What Would a French (person) Do?? 

That single question was the answer to all my dilemmas. Once I asked it, the answer was obvious. A French person would definitely not stop for a burrito at Chipotle when there was a perfectly good meal waiting to be had at home. So, I went home, I made my dinner, and I have to say, it was so tasty and I felt so proud of myself afterwards. 

So now, whenever that naughty guy in red shows up I'm prepared. I ask myself what a French person would do in that particular situation and I'm able to choose the right thing.