America’s Messed Up Relationship with Food
Last night Sheila and I were watching a documentary on Julia Child.*
I would think she needs no introduction, but in case anyone has lived in a cave for their entire lives, she hosted a show called “The French Chef” on PBS for a number of years, and basically created the cooking show.
Because we only had three channels when I was growing up, PBS was my source for all things interesting, meaning not an afternoon soap opera or the nightly news. PBS is responsible for my love of Frank Sinatra, obsession with Peter, Paul and Mary, and then of course there was Mr. Rogers and Bob Ross.
But one day when I was flipped the channel (not with a remote, because 1984 in rural Pennsylvania), I came across “The French Chef.”
I was mesmerized and entertained, mostly by her unusual voice, but also with the idea that, much like Bob Ross, she started with a blank canvas and ended with – well – something cool that she seemingly created out of nothing.
I loved watching the process. Despite my cluelessness in the kitchen and resentment of all things home making,* cooking shows tend to mesmerize me. Not the competition kind - those just bring me anxiety. But I enjoyed watch Julia Child make some crazy French dish seem like the kind of thing anyone could do.
I don’t, however, really love to cook. But I am an accidentally chef of sorts, as learning to cook and pay attention to nutrition is such a crucial piece of managing your wellness. For those who follow me on social media, you know that I occasionally post cooking videos, most of which would have Julia rolling over in her grave. (Click on my Instagram profile if you want to see my effort to Spatchcock a chicken)…
What struck me most as I watched this documentary, was the reverence with which all who were interviewed spoke of food. Not just of Julia herself, but of the relationship she, and the French, have with food.
In our country, I think we’ve become fearful of food.
In the documentary, the people they interviewed used words like beautiful and sensual and communal and they talked about flavor and savoring the food and I couldn’t help but feel so sad that those are not words that I hear about food very often. Many of us know that in other countries, people dine with one another and that breaking bread, literally, as the French do, is filled with love and presence and lingering over delicious food amongst the company of loved ones.
I mean I’ve never been to France, but I suddenly found myself wanting to know what it would be like to be in a culture where food was spoken about with such reverence. I don’t mean to say that Americans don’t appreciate food. But as a nutrition coach and someone who works in the fitness industry, that's not the language I hear, or even read about.
Food is reduced to calories, macros, and is discussed more like a science project and less like something that is supposed to taste good. And I'm guilty of it myself. I hear phrases like guilty pleasure and sinfully good and other words that highlight the weird relationship most Americans have with food. (Including me).
But when I think about one of the best anchor habits you can incorporate for your own nutrition practice, the very first one is to eat slowly and mindfully. Yes, it is so that you can better digest your food, and better recognize when you are full. But it's also so that you can stay present and actually enjoy your food. I doubt Julia Child ever scarfed down a sad desk lunch, regardless of how busy her schedule was.
I hesitate to actually suggest putting your fork down between bites as I sign off today. I think a better task is to watch an old episode of "The French Chef" and savor your next meal.
Let me know how it goes...
* I’ve been enjoying my subscription to HBO Max, where you can find both the documentary, as well as a short series depicting the story of how the t.v. show came to be.
** I didn’t appreciate the still pervasive gender roles that mean I HAD to take home economics when I would have rather tried shop class, thank you very much.