Trop Gourmande

For the past couple weeks, I’ve been plowing my way through the classic Physiologie du Goût written by Brillat-Savarin sometime around the beginning of the 1800s. It has, of course, been taking me awhile since it’s in French, but since I’m a bit of an odd duck, I find it fun to read all his little anecdotes, stories, and analyses about food. Anyway, I thought that I would share a couple passages which caught my eye. I hope that my attempts at translation do not destroy too much of the meaning and enjoyment of Brillat-Savarin’s writing.

Méditation XI: De la Gourmandise. p. 141
“55_ I’ve investigated the dictionaries for the word “Gourmandise,” and I’ve yet to be satisfied with what I’ve found. The problem is a perpetual confusion between the word “gourmandise” properly said, with the word “gluttony” and the word “voracity” […]
“Definitions: Let us then define it ourselves.
“The ‘gourmandise’ is a passionate preference, reasonable and regular, for things that flatter the taste [buds].
“The ‘gourmandise’ is the enemy of excess; anyone who overeats or becomes drunk risks being punished or put under controls.
“The ‘gourmandise’ encompasses also the “friandise” which is nothing more than the same preference applied to dishes that are light, delicate, small in proportion, for jams, pastries, etc. This is a modification introduced in favor of women and men who resemble it. […]
“The moral of the story: it is an implicit resignation of the order given by the Creator, who gave us the need to eat in order to live, that we are thus invited (enticed?) by appetite, we are kept interested by the flavors and we are rewarded by the pleasure.”

p. 170
“73_ The difference between the pleasure of eating and the pleasure of the table (the pleasure of dining?) […]
“The pleasure of eating is the actual sensation and a direct need that is satisfied.
“The pleasure of the table is the thought-over sensation that is born of diverse circumstances of actions, places, things and people that accompany a meal.
“The pleasure of eating is something we share is common with animals; it does not address anything but hunger and what is required to satisfy that hunger.
“The pleasure of the table is particular to the human being; it assumes the preceding cares for the preparation of a meal, for the location and the assembling of the guests.
“The pleasure of eating demands/requires, not only hunger, but at very least an appetite; the pleasure of the table is more often independent of appetite or hunger.”

(entrance to "La Biche", a very chic baguette heaven)

I suppose these descriptions encompass what I am trying to experience during my stay in France. It is the exploration of all the pleasures of the table or of dining, not just the food which adorns the table but all that surrounds it. Trying to keep up with conversation with my host family, occasionally even telling my host father “Wait!, Stop!, let me speak!” since I haven’t quite developed the ability to talk at the same time as other people as is so common in France. I have come to love the French form of eating dinner which is focused on being “équilibré” or balanced, having the main dish, usually some sort of salad or vegetable (in which potatoes, rice and pastas are also included in the place of a legitimate vegetable), and either or both fromage (cheese) and dessert. In this family, desserts are typically the yaourt (yogurt) and maybe a bisquit, the closest thing the French come to cookies.
The meal is a progression, it is not simply one step, with everything piled on the plate, consumed as quickly as possible and then dumped in the dishwasher before moving on to other things. After dinner, I go one step further by taking my evening tea, just as I did in the States, and I ask if anyone else would like a “pisse-mémé,” literally a term for evening tea which means “something that makes a grandmother have to pea in the middle of the night.” Some times they accept and take a “tisane” or an infusion, an herbal tea or fruit tea. My host mother likes “fruits-rouge” and my host father likes something called “nuit calme” so that he can “sleep like a baby.” But the dinner meal itself is what we Americans might think of as a 1950s style family meal, with everyone around the table, the parents asking the kids what they did that day, listening to the descriptions of the dramas playing out between Anne-Sophie and Paul at school, remarking that the car needs to be washed, the garden neatened up or that they are going to be gone on such-and-such-day visiting family.
Often, one hears the French say that someone is “très/trop gourmande” implying that they eat too much of one thing or another. When my host father goes searching for the baguette and fromage, sampling each one in large portions, my host mother often remarks that he is “très gourmande.” This is what is described by our friend Brillat-Savarin in saying that being a gourmand is often confused with gluttony. It is, admittedly, a fine line to walk. When does one pass from eating for the pleasure of the savors and perhaps eating a lot because the flavors are so detailed and enjoyable, to simple gluttony, eating too much because, yes, it tastes good, but also because one doesn’t know when to stop. I try not to be too “gourmande” and simply enjoy what is given to me without excess, but it is often difficult, especially with sweets (perhaps that puts me more in the line of a “friandise”). But France has been a good teacher, I’ve lost much of my fear of eating that I held before. I would often deprive myself of things like butter saying “I don’t need it, olive oil works just as well, or toast is just as good with just honey or just jam, the butter is unnecessary.” But it was fear that maybe it was too unhealthy or fattening. Sure its not exactly healthy food but despite my repeated motto of “anything and everything within reason and moderation” I would cut myself off from many pleasures of eating. France is a good influence, a bit of cheese here, some baguette there, a dab of butter and a dessert if you want it is not the end of the world (or the end of your waistline).
Thus I raise my glass to Brillat-Savarin, the French and all those who know how to eat like gourmands and not gluttons, the enjoyment of food is the enjoyment of life and we are here to live it.