French wholesale Women Don't wholesale Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure online

French wholesale Women Don't wholesale Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure online

French wholesale Women Don't wholesale Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure online
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The #1 national bestseller that launched a fabulous French Revolution about how to approach healthy living: the ultimate non-diet book—now with more recipes.

French women don’t get fat, even though they enjoy bread and pastry, wine, and regular three-course meals. Unlocking the simple secrets of this “French paradox”—how they enjoy food while staying slim and healthy—Mireille Guiliano gives us a charming, inspiring take on health and eating for our times. For anyone who has slipped out of her Zone, missed the flight to South Beach, or accidentally let a carb pass her lips, here is a positive way to stay trim, a culture’s most precious secrets recast for the twenty-first century. A life of wine, bread—even chocolate—without girth or guilt? Pourquoi pas?

Review

“The perfect book. . . . A blueprint for building a healthy attitude toward food and exercise.” —San Francisco Chronicle

“A perfect, slim (and slimming) read for dieters and bon vivants alike.” —Marie Claire

“It’s hard not to be enlivened by a [weight-control] book that celebrates both chocolate and bread, and espouses such wisdom as ‘Life without pasta? Perish the thought.’” —The Washington Post Book World

From the Back Cover

Stylish, convincing, wise, funny-and just in time: the ultimate "non-diet book, which could radically change the way you think and live.
French women don''t get fat, but they do eat bread and pastry, drink wine, and regularly enjoy three-course meals. In her delightful tale, Mireille Guiliano unlocks the simple secrets of this "French paradox"-how to enjoy food and stay slim and healthy. Hers is a charming, sensible, and powerfully life-affirming view of health and eating for our times.
As a typically slender French girl, Mireille (Meer-"ray) went to America as an exchange student and came back fat. That shock sent her into an adolescent tailspin, until her kindly family physician, "Dr. Miracle," came to the rescue. Reintroducing her to classic principles of French gastronomy plus time-honored secrets of the local women, he helped her restore her shape and gave her a whole new understanding of food, drink, and life. The key? Not guilt or deprivation but learning to get the most from the things you most enjoy. Following her own version of this traditional wisdom, she has ever since relished a life of indulgence without bulge, satisfying yen without yo-yo on three meals a day.
Now in simple but potent strategies and dozens of recipes you''d swear were fattening, Mireille reveals the ingredients for a lifetime of weight control-from the emergency weekend remedy of Magical Leek Soup to everyday tricks like fooling yourself into contentment and painless new physical exertions to save you from the StairMaster. Emphasizing the virtues of freshness, variety, balance, and "always pleasure, Mireille shows how virtually anyone can learn to eat, drink, and move like a French woman.
Anatural raconteur, Mireille illustrates her philosophy through the experiences that have shaped her life-a six-year-old''s first taste of Champagne, treks in search of tiny blueberries (called "myrtilles) in the woods near her grandmother''s house, a near-spiritual rendezvous with oysters at a seaside restaurant in Brittany, to name but a few. She also shows us other women discovering the wonders of "French in action," drawing examples from dozens of friends and associates she has advised over the years to eat and drink smarter and more joyfully.
Here are a culture''s most cherished and time-honored secrets recast for the twenty-first century. For anyone who has slipped out of her zone, missed the flight to South Beach, or accidentally let a carb pass her lips, here is a buoyant, positive way to stay trim. A life of wine, bread-even chocolate-without girth or guilt? "Pourquoi pas?

About the Author

Mireille Guiliano, born and brought up in France, is an internationally best-selling author and a long-time spokesperson for Champagne Veuve Clicquot. For more than twenty years she was President and CEO of Clicquot, Inc. (LVMH). She is married to an American and lives most of the year in New York and France (Paris and Provence). Her favorite pastimes are breakfast, lunch and dinner. Her books have appeared in 37 languages.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

VIVE L’AMÉRIQUE:

THE BEGINNING . . . I AM OVERWEIGHT


I love my adopted homeland. But first, as an exchange student in Massachusetts, I learned to love chocolate-chip cookies and brownies. And I gained twenty pounds.

My love affair with America had begun with my love of the English language; we met at the lycée (junior high and high school) when I turned eleven. English was my favorite class after French literature, and I simply adored my English teacher. He had never been abroad but spoke English without a French accent or even a British one. He had learned it during World War II, when he found himself in a POW camp with a high school teacher from Weston, Massachusetts (I suspect they had long hours to practice). Without knowing whether they’d make it out alive, they decided that if they did, they would start an exchange program for high school seniors. Each year, one student from the United States would come to our town and one of us would go to Weston. The exchange continues to this day, and the competition is keen.

During my last year at the lycée, I had good enough grades to apply, but I wasn’t interested. With dreams of becoming an English teacher or professor, I was eager to start undergraduate studies at the local university. And at eighteen, naturally I had also convinced myself I was madly in love with a boy in my town. He was the handsomest though admittedly not the brightest boy around, the coqueluche (the darling) of all the girls. I couldn’t dream of parting from him, so I didn’t even think of applying for Weston. But in the schoolyard, between classes, there was hardly another topic of conversation. Among my friends, the odds-on favorite to go was Monique; she wanted it so badly, and besides, she was the best in our class, a fact not lost on the selection committee, which was chaired by my English teacher and included among its distinguished ranks PTA members, other teachers, the mayor, and the local Catholic priest, balanced by the Protestant minister. But on the Monday morning when the announcement was expected, the only thing announced was that no decision had been made.

At home that Thursday morning (those days, there was no school on Thursdays but half days on Saturday), my English teacher appeared at the door. He had come to see my mother, which seemed rather strange, considering my good grades. As soon as he left, with a big, satisfied smile but not a word to me except hello, my mother called me. Something was très important.

The selection committee had not found a suitable candidate. When I asked about Monique, my mother tried to explain something not easily fathomed at my age: My friend had everything going for her, but her parents were Communists, and that would not fly in America. The committee had debated at great length (it was a small town, where everybody was fully informed about everybody else), but they could not escape concluding that a daughter of Communists could never represent France!

My teacher had proposed me as an alternative, and the other members had agreed. But since I had not even applied, he had to come and persuade my parents to let me go. My overadoring father, who would never have condoned my running away for a year, was not home. Perhaps my teacher was counting on this fact; but in any event, he managed to sell the idea to my mother. The real work then fell to her, because she had to persuade not only my father, but me as well. Not that she was without her own misgivings about seeing me go, but Mamie was always wise and farsighted; and she usually got her way. I was terribly anxious about what Monique would say, but once word got out, she was first to declare what a fine ambassador I would make. Apparently, Communist families were quite open and practical about such matters, and she had already been given to understand that family ideology had made her a dark horse from the start.

And so I went. It was a wonderful year—one of the best of my adolescence—and it certainly changed the course of my entire life. To a young French girl, Weston, a wealthy Boston suburb, seemed an American dream—green, manicured, spread out, with huge gorgeous homes and well-to-do, well-schooled families. There was tennis, horseback riding, swimming pools, golf, and two or three cars per family—a far, far cry from any town in eastern France, then or now. The time was so full of new, unimagined things, but finally too rich, and I don’t mean demographically. For all the priceless new friends and experiences I was embracing, something else altogether, something sinister, was slowly taking shape. Almost before I could notice, it had turned into fifteen pounds, more or less . . . and quite probably more. It was August, my last month before the return voyage to France. I was in Nantucket with one of my adoptive families when I suffered the first blow: I caught a reflection of myself in a bathing suit. My American mother, who had perhaps been through something like this before with another daughter, instinctively registered my distress. A good seamstress, she bought a bolt of the most lovely linen and made me a summer shift. It seemed to solve the problem but really only bought me a little time.

In my final American weeks, I had become very sad at the thought of leaving all my new pals and relations, but I was also quite apprehensive of what my French friends and family would say at the sight of the new me. I had never mentioned the weight gain in letters and somehow managed to send photos showing me only from the waist up.

The moment of truth was approaching.

2

LA FILLE PRODIGUE:

RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

My father brought my brother with him to Le Havre to collect me. I was traveling on the SS Rotterdam. The ocean liner was still the transatlantic standard preferred by many French people in the late 1960s. With me was the new American exchange student from Weston, who would be spending the year in our town.

Since he had not seen me for a whole year, I expected my father, who always wore his heart on his face, would embarrass me, bounding up the gangway for the first hug and kiss. But when I spied the diminutive French man in his familiar beret—yes, a beret—he looked stunned. As I approached, now a little hesitantly, he just stared at me, and as we came near, after a few seconds that seemed endless, there in front of my brother and my American shipmate, all he could manage to say to his cherished little girl come home was, “Tu ressembles à un sac de patates” (“You look like a sack of potatoes”). Some things don’t sound any prettier in French. I knew what he had in mind: not a market-size sack, but one of the big, 150-pound burlap affairs that are delivered to grocery stores and restaurants! Fortunately the girl from Weston spoke little French, else she would have had a troubling first impression of French family life.

At age nineteen, I could not have imagined anything more hurtful, and to this day the sting has not been topped. But my father was not being mean. True, tact was never his strength; and the teenage girl’s hypersensitivity about weight and looks wasn’t yet the proverbial pothole every parent today knows to steer around. The devastating welcome sprang more than anything from his having been caught off guard. Still, it was more than I could take. I was at once sad, furious, vexed, and helpless. At the time, I could not even measure the impact.

On our way home to eastern France, we stopped in Paris for a few days, just to show my friend from Weston the City of Light, but my inexorable grumpiness made everyone eager to hit the road again. I ruined Paris for all of us. I was a mess.

The coming months were bitter and awkward. I didn’t want anyone to see me, but everyone wanted to greet l’Américaine. My mother understood right away not only how and why I had gained the weight, but also how I felt. She treaded lightly, avoiding the unavoidable topic, perhaps particularly because I had soon given her something more dire to worry about.

Having seen a bit of the world, I had lost my taste for attending the local university. I now wanted to study languages in a Grande École (like an Ivy League school) in Paris and, on top of that, to take a literary track at the Sorbonne at the same time. It was unusual and really an insane workload. My parents were not at all keen on the idea of Paris: if I got in (hardly a given, as the competition is legendary), it was going to be a big emotional and financial sacrifice to have me three and a half hours from home. So I had to campaign hard, but thanks in part to the obvious persistence of my raw nerves, in the end they let me go back to Paris for the famously grueling entrance exam. I passed, and in late September I moved to Paris. My parents always wanted the best for me.

By All Saints’ Day (November 1), I had gained another five pounds, and by Christmas, five more still. At five feet three, I was now overweight by any standard, and nothing I owned fit, not even my American mother’s summer shift. I had two flannel ones—same design, but roomier—made to cover up my lumpiness. I told the dressmaker to hurry and hated myself every minute of the day. More and more, my father’s faux pas at Le Havre seemed justified. Those were blurry days of crying myself to sleep and zipping past all mirrors. It may not seem so strange an experience for a nineteen-year-old, but none of my French girlfriends was going through it.

Then something of a Yuletide miracle occurred. Or perhaps I should say, Dr. Miracle, who showed up thanks to my mamie. Over the long holiday break, she asked the family physician, Dr. Meyer, to pay a call. She did this most discreetly, careful not to bruise me further. Dr. Meyer had watched me grow up, and he was the kindest gentleman on earth. He assured me that getting back in shape would be really easy and just a matter of a few “old French tricks.” By Easter, he promised, I’d be almost back to my old self, and certainly by the end of the school year in June I’d be ready to wear my old bathing suit, the one I’d packed for America. As in a fairy tale, it was going to be our secret. (No use boring anyone else with the particulars of our plan, he said.) And the weight would go away much faster than it came. Sounded great to me. Of course, I wanted to put my faith in Dr. Meyer, and fortunately, there didn’t seem to be many options at the time.

DR. MIRACLE’S WEEKEND PRESCRIPTION

For the next three weeks, I was to keep a diary of everything I ate. This is a strategy that will sound familiar from some American diet programs, such as Weight Watchers. I was to record not only what and how much, but also when and where. There was no calorie counting, not that I could have done that. The stated purpose was simply for him to gauge the nutritional value of what I was eating (it was the first time I ever heard the word). Since nothing more was asked of me, I was only too happy to comply. This is the first thing you should do, too.

Dr. Meyer demanded no great precision in measurement. Just estimate, he said, stipulating “a portion” as the only unit of quantity and roughly equal to a medium-size apple. In America, where the greatest enemy of balanced eating is ever bigger portions, I suggest a little more precision. Here’s where the small kitchen scale comes in. (Bread, which sometimes comes in huge slices here, might be more easily weighed than compared with an apple, which seems bigger here, too!)

Three weeks later, I was home again for the weekend. Just before noon, Dr. Miracle, distingué, gray templed, made his second house call. He also stayed for lunch. Afterward, reviewing my diary, he immediately identified a pattern utterly obvious to him but hiding somehow from me, as I blithely recorded every crumb I put in my mouth. On the walk between school and the room I was renting in the Seventh Arrondissement, there were no fewer than sixteen pastry shops. Without my having much noticed, my meals were more and more revolving around pastry. As I was living in Paris, my family could not know this, so when I came home, my mother naturally prepared my favorites, unaware I was eating extra desserts on the sly, even under her roof.

My Parisian pastry gluttony was wonderfully diverse. In the morning there was croissant or pain au chocolat or chouquette or tarte au sucre. Lunch was preceded by a stop at Poîlane, the famous breadmaker’s shop, where I could not resist the pain aux raisins or tarte aux pommes (apple tart) or petits sablés. Next stop was at a café for the ubiquitous jambon-beurre (ham on a buttered baguette) and what remained of the Poîlane pastry with coffee. Dinner always included and sometimes simply was an éclair, Paris Brest, religieuse, or mille-feuille (curiously called a napoleon outside France), always some form of creamy, buttery sweetness. Sometimes I would even stop off for a palmier (a big puff pastry sugar-covered cookie) for my goûter (afternoon snack). As a student, I was living off things I could eat on the go. Hardly any greens were passing my lips, and my daily serving of fruit was coming from fruit tarts. I was eating this strangely lopsided fare without the slightest thought and with utter contentment—except, of course, for how I looked.

Now this was obviously not a diet I had picked up in America, where one could hardly say the streets are lined with irresistible patisseries (though then, as now, there was no shortage of tempting hot chocolate-chip cookie stands and sellers of rich ice cream, to say nothing of a mind-boggling variety of supermarket sweets made with things infinitely worse for you than cream and butter). But as I was to learn, it was my adoptive American way of eating that had gone to my head and opened me up to the dangers of this delicious Parisian minefield. For in America, I had gotten into some habits: eating standing up, not making my own food, living off whatever (n’importe quoi, as the French say), as other kids were doing. Brownies and bagels were particular hazards; we had nothing quite like them at home, so who could tell how rich they were?

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Top reviews from the United States

Lynda M. Mortensen
4.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Good Book with wonderful tips for enjoying life while staying slim
Reviewed in the United States on March 21, 2016
As an English ex-Pat, living in the USA for the past 16 years, I can relate to much of what this book has to say. I went from walking everywhere several times a day...buying groceries daily, cooking home made meals daily, walking to the shops, library, school, doctors... See more
As an English ex-Pat, living in the USA for the past 16 years, I can relate to much of what this book has to say. I went from walking everywhere several times a day...buying groceries daily, cooking home made meals daily, walking to the shops, library, school, doctors office...to a life of driving everywhere and weekly grocery shops and a lot more eating out and fast foods. My weight immediately started to go up after I moved here, and I put on 20 pounds in the first 6 months. I''ve been struggling with it ever since...not overweight according to my BMI, but just uncomfortable with myself. Add to that 9 years of working night shift as an RN and the amount of convenience foods, processed yuck and being too tired to exercise on my days off (or catching up on lost sleep) and the problem, along with my cholesterol levels, just multiplied. Happily two things have happened that I fully intend to change things: A ''Sprouts'' store opened within easy walking distance of my house, and I finally retired from nursing...I finally had the time to walk more AND cook home made meals again...but I still wasn''t losing weight, why? Reading this book helped me realise what I was still doing wrong: 1. I was still locked in the ''One Huge Dish Per Meal'' mindset, serving a huge bowl of pasta or casserole, or a giant plate loaded with meat, potatoes & veggies at each dinner time, and attempting to compensate by not eating breakfast or even lunch sometimes (then snacking on chocolate whenever I was hungry). 2. I was still thinking of walking as ''exercise''...I would plan on going ''hiking'' around the trails near our house, or driving to hike in one of the many beautiful parks here, and dress up in my hiking boots etc., but because that took so much time out of my day it turned out to be a very rare occurrence. I started reading this book about a week ago and have already lost 4 lbs...4 lbs eating breakfast, lunch and 3-course meals for dinner. I''m absolutely amazed. Her advice on eating more courses but much smaller amounts of each course are absolutely spot on. Quality food over quantity. Just go for a walk...no dressing in special clothes, just pop your coat on if needed and go for a stroll in your neighborhood, or to your local shops to browse or buy groceries if they are within walking distance. Use the stairs, not the elevators, park further away from the store and walk...all make perfect sense. And her recipe for Leek Soup as a quick weight loss starter is just a miracle worker...even though I made Leek & Celery Soup, and we are only having it for lunch and sometimes also as an appetizer for our 3-course evening meals, I have seen not only a loss in weight, but I feel so much better. I always felt heavy, bloated and immobile after one of our previous ''One Huge Dish'' dinners, but I can eat a 3-course dinner of delectable, quality items and feel wonderful afterwards (and I actually enjoyed preparing 3-course meals...the effort needed burns calories too!). Of course the book has some bad points...there is far too much boasting about Champagne and living the high life that she can with the high salary she earns...there are a lot of things that are not in the daily budget of the average person, but you can modify the general ideas with a bit of creativity to suit your own budget. And despite her reassurances that Working French Women are able to find the time to do all of these things...I take that with a pinch of salt, although I did save time by making multiple servings of desserts and pate''s and freezing them for later dinners. I also just purchased a soup machine to help with the complexity of getting an appetizer on the table and having time to sit and enjoy it while still having to cook the main course. Yes, there''s such as a thing as a soup machine...they are available on Amazon too :).
202 people found this helpful
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JRDallas
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Still refreshing after all these years
Reviewed in the United States on January 25, 2019
I must have first read this book 10 years ago, and it remains the only way I’ve ever been able to lose weight. The fad diets (i’m looking at you low-carb…) never helped, and I much prefer the kinder, gentler tone of the principles the author sets forth here. Too much... See more
I must have first read this book 10 years ago, and it remains the only way I’ve ever been able to lose weight. The fad diets (i’m looking at you low-carb…) never helped, and I much prefer the kinder, gentler tone of the principles the author sets forth here. Too much American self punishment just doesn’t produce lasting results! Be aware, This definitely is not a book you can rush through, nor is it a step-by-step guide. You need to take your time and slowly absorb the principles, But I think it is worth it. I read it every now and then as a pep-talk.
43 people found this helpful
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Mary Raynor
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
BUY THIS SNOBBY FRENCH BOOK AND ENJOY IT; I DID!
Reviewed in the United States on May 24, 2016
I had to buy this book because of the terrible reviews of it that I have read here. Nothing could be that bad, I thought, and if it is, that would be a hoot. I bought it and have thoroughly enjoyed it. It reads just like "French Women Don''t Get Facelifts," which I... See more
I had to buy this book because of the terrible reviews of it that I have read here. Nothing could be that bad, I thought, and if it is, that would be a hoot. I bought it and have thoroughly enjoyed it. It reads just like "French Women Don''t Get Facelifts," which I bought and read previously. Yes, the author comes across as snobby towards Americans, and no, the average American woman, especially if she lives in a rural area, does not have access to the foods and opportunities for exercise that New York and Parisian women have, but she does it with humor. Who wants a book that tells us America is the greatest in everything, if we are buying a book about French life? Buy this book and enjoy it!
105 people found this helpful
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Kristen Cannon
3.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
I am not French
Reviewed in the United States on July 28, 2018
I want to say upfront but three stars for me means neutral. I think there is some very helpful wisdom and some good recipes. There are many regions of the US where this type of lifestyle would be very easy to incorporate. However I do not live in that region. I also... See more
I want to say upfront but three stars for me means neutral. I think there is some very helpful wisdom and some good recipes. There are many regions of the US where this type of lifestyle would be very easy to incorporate. However I do not live in that region. I also realize that with every pound that I negotiate, and after years of battling the scale, that it is not ignorance that puts me in this weight category. No one would say I am fat. It is more uncomfortable fluffy vanity weight that if I took it off people would then say “Oh! I didn’t realize you had that to lose but you look great! “ The problem I have with this book is that it really speaks to a certain kind of woman. Perhaps one that has just lost her way. And Americans do not think like the French. None of the wisdom of the French is passed down to American little girls. Are weight is at war with our own culture. But I realize for myself, living in the sweltering heat of Texas but I will never park as far as I can from the front door of anything! That in my small little suburban town or 5000 where Chili’s is considered upscale, The amount of effort I would have to go to to live farm to table would be more than this arthritic 51-year-old woman is willing to do. So that being said, I am neutral to the overall wisdom, and I am pretty sure it will be put on a shelf with the other 50 books that I started then stopped reading. Her lifestyle is exquisite, and I applaud any woman who is able to transform herself and adopt a French psyche.
30 people found this helpful
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Krissy B.
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
I love this book
Reviewed in the United States on February 7, 2017
I love this book. Ive tried just about every diet in the world and this book (while I agree-a bit stuffy) is full of common sense that so many of us lack. For instance, eat food you actually enjoy and don''t eat food you don''t. Be a little bit hungry between meals-you won''t... See more
I love this book. Ive tried just about every diet in the world and this book (while I agree-a bit stuffy) is full of common sense that so many of us lack. For instance, eat food you actually enjoy and don''t eat food you don''t. Be a little bit hungry between meals-you won''t die. Have a glass of wine, not four. Eat fresh and in season. Rotate meals so that you don''t get bored. Vegetables-do it. Drink a lot of water as your body really needs it. Water is good for your skin, your organs, weight loss, etc., and when you don''t drink enough, you''re body becomes like a dried up sponge. Coffee should be drank in the am for pleasure, not all day in a gallon jug. Eat at the table and talk to your spouse. Open a bottle of wine and pour half in a separate bottle to save. Eat yogurt as dessert. Eat fresh bread with fresh butter, not pop tarts and processed junk. And on and on. Again, its common sense stuff thats written in an easy to read manner. While you may already know these things, do you do them? I don''t-so the book is great for me.
Her recipes are simple and use ingredients you''ll likely have on hand.
Overall, I really enjoy this book. It makes sense. Its not going to lose you 10 pounds in a week-but I think it could do something much greater for your/my longterm health. Plus, I really love France.
68 people found this helpful
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HS
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
What about the farm girls?
Reviewed in the United States on December 26, 2018
As an American from German immigrants who knew how to grow food, my first thought is “can someone please write: “German Women Don’t Get Fat”? Not sure that would fly. This book is very intriguing and as someone who lives in the Heartland of America and loves great... See more
As an American from German immigrants who knew how to grow food, my first thought is “can someone please write: “German Women Don’t Get Fat”? Not sure that would fly.
This book is very intriguing and as someone who lives in the Heartland of America and loves great food, my main takeaway from this book is that I’m going to have to do a lot of it myself.
The life a large city woman who jaunts down to the bakery and the butcher and the candle sticker maker for all her goods is not the same as the life a women who must make her own bread and yogurt and other from scratch affair.
The book is good, interesting, believable and it feels like home a little bit to me.
It’s not complete, there is much to be said about the food culture of any given region of France let alone Europe or the World, but Americans do seem to have a major food culture identity issues.
It’s a lot of work for a lot of people who don’t have access to all the things. And there is some things mentioned in her Cookbook version of this that talk on that but I think so much more could be said.
I found myself pondering my own family members who came from eastern German who can grow potatoes and vegetables like nobody’s business. I imagine they would not be the French woman in this story but the market vendor she buys her vegetables from and I can’t help but wonder how this story might be different for each of them.
H
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Helen Kain
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Yes, you can enjoy food, become and remain slim, fit and healthy. Dig in folks.
Reviewed in the United States on February 23, 2016
Anyone looking for a strict formulaic dieting guide will be disappointed in this book. Those looking for a lifetime plan to embrace the pleasures of deliciously prepared food, whilst being reasonably fit and toned will be thrilled. I bought this book in hard copy in an... See more
Anyone looking for a strict formulaic dieting guide will be disappointed in this book. Those looking for a lifetime plan to embrace the pleasures of deliciously prepared food, whilst being reasonably fit and toned will be thrilled. I bought this book in hard copy in an airport lounge a number of years ago, and have lost count of the number I''ve purchased and given to friends. The author introduces us to a relationship with food that has gone sadly by the wayside in North America. We are at war with food. We "battle the bulge", "wrestle the pounds" and "whittle our waistline", to no avail if the obesity statistics are anything to go by. Europeans have an entirely different attitude to food, as she so compellingly describes in this collection of anecdotes, tips, and recipes.

This book started me on a journey to losing almost 20 pounds, very gradually and almost effortlessly. I''ve kept it off for several years. Once in a while a couple of pounds creep on and I recalibrate quickly, calmly and without losing any joy in what I''m eating. If you''re ready for a "rapprochement" with food, this book is a marvellous starting point.
79 people found this helpful
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Purchaser
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Game changing book for enjoying good food with healthy balance!
Reviewed in the United States on October 15, 2018
I bought this book to participate in a book club and am so glad I did! It has completely transformed my approach to food and eating habits in a very unexpected way. I''m participating in a weight loss program already and this was a perfect compliment to what I was already... See more
I bought this book to participate in a book club and am so glad I did! It has completely transformed my approach to food and eating habits in a very unexpected way. I''m participating in a weight loss program already and this was a perfect compliment to what I was already doing. Sped up my progress and also allowed me to enjoy eating better food. What a great outlook she has! Highly recommend this book to anyone who would like to change their approach toward enjoying food and living life to the fullest. Wonderful, healthy perspective.
10 people found this helpful
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Top reviews from other countries

Amazon Customer
3.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Some solid ideas but also lots of fluff
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on January 5, 2019
I wholeheartedly agree with the core concepts of this book and it realigned some of my own attitudes but especially towards the end it got a little bit silly in her self praise ("I am so funny and everyone says so" - okay then). Her list of what French women apparently do...See more
I wholeheartedly agree with the core concepts of this book and it realigned some of my own attitudes but especially towards the end it got a little bit silly in her self praise ("I am so funny and everyone says so" - okay then). Her list of what French women apparently do at the end of the book really was obnoxious and would most likely horrify a significant number of my French friends. I assume her publisher thought that was her big selling point but as a fellow expat, I''d be a bit more careful after 40 years living abroad to tell the world what the women of my former homeland were like. Her constant oblivious referring to her privilege as a well earning childless woman made me check when this book was published as it has a really old school vibe so much so that I was genuinely surprised to find it was published in 2013. These and her super boring chapters about chocolate and wine (I just don''t care) are my only/main criticisms. I like her emphasis on enjoyment and surprise and it really encouraged me to be more adventurous with my food shopping, also her insisting on seasonal food makes complete sense and made me realise that I am actually quite out of touch with what foods grow when. I think I always took pride in creating healthy fast dishes so her insisting on slowing down is what is my biggest lesson as I eat healthily but too much as I eat so fast. I also like that she starts with where you are at and to adjust and replace foods that YOU eat rather than some grand exclusion of certain food groups. She is very much focused on the longterm which again, I think is the right approach - so you had a crazy food binge - not so bad if you think in weeks and months, you just cut down a bit for the next couple of days. I see this as a healthy attitude. I don''t agree with her on her silly dislike of gyms (btw quite a few of my French friends are really into sports in all forms including the gym) but love her joy and enthusiasm of walking and it definitely made me embrace it more in the last two weeks. I would still recommend this book but I''d say you can probably stop after 70/80% not much new is revealed towards the end. Some of her recipes also seem really nice and I earmarked a few. They are quite non fussy which I appreciate.
20 people found this helpful
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N. C. Devereux
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Best book I’ve read in a long time!
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on June 25, 2020
This book is amazingly addictive and utterly motivational. Mireille Guiliano has balanced the book with just the right amount of personal story and actual fact. Upon finishing this book you are guaranteed to (a) want to be French; (b) will already be making some of the...See more
This book is amazingly addictive and utterly motivational. Mireille Guiliano has balanced the book with just the right amount of personal story and actual fact. Upon finishing this book you are guaranteed to (a) want to be French; (b) will already be making some of the recipes; and (c) will feel as if you already know Mireille Guiliano personally through her expression of personal life experiences and her unequivocal French love of all things special.
3 people found this helpful
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Amazon Customer
5.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Great tips
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on November 11, 2016
This is the sort of book where you don''t really want anyone to see the title because they''ll think you''re an idiot. But actually I LOVED it. She''s so fab! And sensible. And just like, eat nice food, not a problem, just enjoy it and don''t eat 400 Mars bars when you''re...See more
This is the sort of book where you don''t really want anyone to see the title because they''ll think you''re an idiot. But actually I LOVED it. She''s so fab! And sensible. And just like, eat nice food, not a problem, just enjoy it and don''t eat 400 Mars bars when you''re feeling sad and you''ll be fine
18 people found this helpful
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Sara
3.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Small things make a difference
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on June 3, 2020
This book has been quoted online and in magazine articles so I thought I would buy it and read the whole thing. I like that it encourages you to focus on making small changes and taking a slow pace to let those changes become part of your routine. There is no rush or quick...See more
This book has been quoted online and in magazine articles so I thought I would buy it and read the whole thing. I like that it encourages you to focus on making small changes and taking a slow pace to let those changes become part of your routine. There is no rush or quick fix or deadline setting. The focus is on things like increasing your water consumption and building daily exertion into your life. Looking at what you eat and cutting things out slowly. So for example, I love chocolate. The book encourages you to perhaps have a smaller, better quality piece of chocolate every day if you like. But by the end of the book, you will be encouraged to have that piece of chocolate every other day instead. There are lots of French quotes all over the place and recipes for dishes I wouldn''t make but I learned enough and have been adequately inspired by this book for the cost of a couple of quid.
3 people found this helpful
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Viktoria
2.0 out of 5 starsVerified Purchase
Terrible!
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on July 31, 2021
It is now known that removing or drastically anything from your diet makes you binge. I wont even go to research, it is one Google search away. You should be changing how you view certain foods, not simply stop having it. You will want it more. I''ve definately read better...See more
It is now known that removing or drastically anything from your diet makes you binge. I wont even go to research, it is one Google search away. You should be changing how you view certain foods, not simply stop having it. You will want it more. I''ve definately read better books with better advice. This advice requires far too much will power. Will power is weak after hard days, long days and generally most days. Other approaches have been far more effective and convincing for me. Regret buying this book.
One person found this helpful
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