Mangia! Mangia!

Carol at Paris Breakfasts marvels in a recent post how many Parisians walk and eat at the same time. I’d been of the impression that the practice is verboten, that one must be seated at a proper table with the proper setting and at the proper time of day before one can partake of a meal, snack or any other time in which food enters one’s mouth. I know that in Japan, the habit is deeply frowned upon. I was told not too far into my tenure there that only children eat while on the street, and that adults who do so would be considered, well, childish. I admit that I had a bad habit of doing that — munching on a bag of chips is a big thing, especially for working college students who are pressed for time already and have to resort to cobbling together a meal from vending machines.

I guess all those admonitions in Japan worked because I can’t do the same anymore. I do often bring along a small bottle of water from which to drink throughout the day when I’m out and about, and I do bring along snacks in my purse for the occasional pick-me-up, but for the most part I now consider walking and eating to be mutually exclusive. (I still have to work on not mindlessly snacking while I cook, though. Sigh. It’s a work-in-progress.)

I’ve seen people eat entire fast-food meals while driving 75 mph on the freeway, which I consider to be just as dangerous as applying mascara or removing/putting on pantyhose (yeah, I’ve seen those too). Once, a colleague of mine at a job I had years ago came back to the office from a quick, errand-filled lunch toting a paper box from KFC. While awkwardly emerging from her car balancing the box, her purse and a sheaf of papers, the open box tilted slightly and spilled a half-eaten drumstick onto her gorgeous silk blouse. It slid down the front and landed squarely on the sidewalk, leaving behind a nasty grease stain all over the fabric. After witnessing that unfortunate sight, I swore I’d never ever ever eat in the car again. And I haven’t.

I wonder if Paris is now suffering the fate we resigned ourselves to years ago, i.e., longer working hours, shorter lunches, leading to hurried meals on the go. The 35-hour workweek notwithstanding, the economy under Sarkozy has apparently been faltering of late, partly as a result of the continuing fallout from the American recession, and signs seem to be pointing to the possibility of abolishing that abbreviated work week (although Sarkozy’s been backpedalling of late from his 2007 campaign promises in response to voter dissatisfaction with his behavior and reforms). I’ve already heard from friends that Spain’s siesta is a thing of the past in all but the smallest regions, and that France is reluctantly joining lockstep with the rest of the Western world in sacrificing leisure for productivity and business. It’s a pity, really, because America is Exhibit A when it comes to realizing the unfortunate results of a faster-than-light society that puts business first at the expense of the individual.

On a totally different note but still kinda related: if you haven’t visited Carol’s blog lately, you must do so! She’s currently in Paris and has posted a bazillion photos of her trip, enough to make even the most casual Francophile green with envy. (I detest literary cliches, but there you go.) Lots of great pictures illustrating life in the City of Light, with plenty of drool-worthy food shots to satisfy the gourmand in you. (Especially if you’re a chocoholic gourmand.)

Makes me want to throw on a scarf, swing my Escada bag over my shoulder, and head downtown in some spiffy outfit (warm but not too warm, as it’s supposed to be 60 today) for a cafe au lait and a pastry.

I think I will.

A bientot!

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