Finally facing my Waterloo......
Lannion Travel Blog› entry 5 of 9 › view all entries
I'm waving the white flag........surrendering to the gods of the patisserie, fromagerie and boulangerie........giving up any pretense that I could remotely attempt to count calories or deprive myself of anything jelly filled, sugar coated, chocolate dipped, fruit topped, pastry wrapped, alcohol injected or surrounded in cream, as long as I am in France.
I was doing so well before we left the States. I'd lost 8 pounds, was exercising, watching what I was eating, had all but eliminated my alcohol intake and was drinking plenty of water. We have been in France just a little over two weeks now and my resolve to "be good" has all but dissolved. Bombarded on all sides by tasty tidbits, both sweet and savory, my willpower has been tested and has been shown to be severely lacking.
I think that my downfall into decadence began before we'd even arrived in France. The delivery of the case of wine which we'd had sent ahead by our favorite French vineyard, Domaine Rouge-Bleu, primed our tastebuds and we have not looked back.
Since then, we have eaten our way through chocolate and pear stuffed crepes, covered in almonds and fresh cream; miniature cakes filled with raspberries and chocolate mousse, dipped in a dark chocolate glaze; custard tarts covered with fresh strawberries, kiwi and bananas; traditional Breton butter cookies; chocolate dipped Madeleine sponge cakes; meringue coated baked ice-cream; croissants; baguettes and the list goes on and on.
Lest one think that our tastebuds are only tempted by what is sweet, we have also maintained a diet well rounded by the endless assortment of cheeses for which the French are well known. Most meals here end with the offering of a cheese platter and basket of fruit. It is virtually impossible to turn away from the aromatic selection of cheeses, oftentimes made by local artisans, no matter how full one may be from the rest of the meal. Follow that up with a homemade dessert and a rich espresso and it is easy to see why the French lifestyle is so addictive.
In case you can't find something to tempt your senses in the large grocery stores, bistros, restaurants or brasseries, you can never go wrong at the weekly outdoor market.
My further decline into grease filled glory occurred at today's weekly market in Lannion. At one stand, three enormous fry pans, filled with freshly harvested new potatoes, large chunks of fatty bacon, slices of carmelizing onions and oversized sausages, simmered over gas flames, infusing the air with a savory perfume too irresistable to ignore. By the time we succumbed to the idea of adding these flavorful chunks of rendered lard to our maxxed out diets, the three pans had reduced to one. We quickly joined the queue before it was too late.
The taste was as heavenly as it was greasy. The lipsmacking flavor took me back to my youth where my mom would fry up skillets of salty, sliced potatoes and onions in bacon grease, never worrying about the buildup of cholesterol in our arteries or sodium in our bloodstream.
So, it's "official" . I'm now past the point of redemption and thoroughly enjoying a guiltless existance. Life is for living, food is for savoring and a good bottle of wine (or two) will take you through the night. Vive La France!