[wine] Pot Roast Reds, Sausy Whites at Chez Gregory

Mostly an update and a second review of the Freedom Food Book. Guest list is at 9, as far as I know. C, J ----- Forwarded message from "Jim L. Ellingson" <jellings(a)me.umn.edu> ----- Date: Mon, 7 Feb 2005 17:05:12 -0600 From: "Jim L. Ellingson" <jellings(a)me.umn.edu> To: wine(a)thebarn.com Subject: Pot Roast Reds, Sassy Whites at Chez Gregory User-Agent: Mutt/1.5.4i Greetings, Thanks to Russ for posting his tasting notes. We have an invitation to Chez Gregory. Limit is 10 for this sit down dinner. Wine styles are Sassy Whites... (aka anything interesting.) and Big, Hearty Reds. I don't recall the full list, but am thinking it was along the lines of: Cab/Brdx Blends Spanish Shiraz/Syrah The "white" and "desert" options are always open. "Hearty Burgundy" didn't make the list, but you've only your reputation to lose.... ditto the Romanian Pinot. Warren, Ruth Gregory 651-698-5337 2139 Randolph wrcgregory(a)qwest.net Who/What Bob Cheeses Warren/Ruth hosts/Pot Roasts. Jim/Louise Breads/Salad Russ Betsy Desert?? Lori Desert ?? Annette Fruit That's 10 so anyone else is on the waiting list... February 9, 2005 Something to Chew On: Frenchwomen Eat Smart By ELAINE SCIOLINO Paris THE CROISSANT looked golden-brown and flaky, but one bite was enough. Mireille Guiliano declared it "disgusting." The waiter apologized. The regular croissant vendor wasn't baking. But Ms. Guiliano, the author of the best seller "French Women Don't Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure" (Alfred A. Knopf, 2005), was not about to waste all those calories on a second-rate bread product. "Life is too short to drink bad wine and to eat bad food," she said. "This is all about fooling yourself." Self-deception and sensuality are the secrets of how to eat well and stay slim, according to Ms. Guiliano's bonbon of a book. In her world, Frenchwomen instinctively understand the centrality of food as a tool of seduction. And seduction, she writes, "figures prominently in the Frenchwoman's sense of herself." To that end, Frenchwomen eat small portions. They eat whatever they want - even chocolate - but certainly not every day. They use ultrafresh ingredients and avoid processed foods. They drink a lot of water, but never take wine without food. Frenchwomen are never too busy to go food shopping several times a week or to make their own yogurt from scratch. They are never too cash-strapped to buy farm-fresh items from open-air markets. They never eat in front of the television or standing up. They eat slowly, savor every bite and make dining a ritual - using all five senses and enjoying multicourse meals on separate plates. "In the United States, everyone is always in a rush," she said. "People have to realize how great it is to be for hours around the table. Except for the bed in the bedroom, the table is the only place where you connect." Parenthood is no excuse for inaction. "People say they are busy with three young kids," said Ms. Guiliano, who does not have children. "Well, there are choices to be made. Maybe you can't watch your reality show for 20 minutes." And Frenchwomen never say diet. "I hate the word 'diet,' " she said. "It's all about deprivation. All the women I meet who are on a diet are unhappy and grumpy and boring." Ms. Guiliano, 58, uses her own happy history to prove her thesis. The 5-foot-3-inch, 112-pound Frenchwoman gorged on brownies and cookies as an exchange student in Massachusetts in the 1960's and gained 20 pounds. She gained 10 more upon her return to France, shedding them all after a doctor taught her about moderation. She created Clicquot Inc., the American subsidiary of Champagne Veuve Clicquot, and now serves as its chairwoman. She and her husband, Edward Guiliano, the president of the New York Institute of Technology, divide their time between New York and Paris. They can squeeze 150 guests into their duplex in the West Village for dinner. They grow blueberries, tomatoes and fresh herbs on the smaller of its two terraces. Their pied-�-terre in the chicest part of the Sixth Arrondissement of Paris is much more modest, accommodating only four comfortably for dinner. Their small family house in Dix Hills on Long Island is home to 4,000 bottles of their wine collection. The book is a confection that she whipped up (complete with favorite recipes) over summer and fall weekends. "It was very easy," she said. "There was no research." Indeed, Ms. Guiliano's message can be found in just about any women's magazine or nutritionist's booklet. And she acknowledges that it is by no means a comprehensive analysis of French eating and drinking habits. She does not address the role of genetics in a woman's weight or the fact that a large segment of Frenchwomen seem naturally smaller-boned, smaller-hipped and less cellulite-laden than many other Westerners. She does not deal with the fact that obesity is growing at an alarming rate throughout France, although it is still at much lower levels than in the United States. Or that takeout and fast-food restaurants have proliferated in France in the past 25 years. (McDonald's in France is more profitable than in any other country in Europe). When questioned, she confesses that Frenchwomen with bad eating habits and excess adipose do exist. "There are plenty of Frenchwomen who are fat," she acknowledges. "But all of my friends are like me." On one level, Ms. Guiliano exudes the je ne sais quoi of that certain type of Frenchwoman who seems effortlessly slim, elegant and serene. She wears her newly found fame as effortlessly as her Armani trousers, Ferragamo pumps, Revillon mink coat and Louis Vuitton handbag. She giggles as she lets it slip that she always wears sexy (but comfortable) lingerie that she would never entrust to a maid to launder. She boasts that some American men who have read her book have written to say, "You're my kind of woman." But there is a steely discipline behind her pleasure-loving approach. One of the main goals of staying slim is to remain appealing to men, and that is hard work. No matter that decades of feminism have taught women to think and act for themselves. "A Frenchman wants his wife to be very elegant, very thin," she said. "It's never said, except in the silence. There is pressure. A woman works on herself." An advance team from "Oprah" recently spent a day in Ms. Guiliano's Paris apartment watching her make homemade yogurt and prepare her now famous "Magical Leek Soup," which is eaten and drunk exclusively for an entire weekend to purge the body before the adventure with pleasure dining begins. "There have been predictions that there will be a leek shortage in America!" she exclaimed, adding, "People are telling me that I have changed their lives." She is also being celebrated in the French press. "If Americans refuse to take the advice of French in diplomatic matters, they seem clearly open to dietary advice," wrote the popular French daily Le Parisien about her book. Le Figaro calls her "the Pasionaria of eating well." Ms. Guiliano said that she has been showered with offers to be the host of a television cooking or lifestyle show and to write a sequel about other secret habits of Frenchwomen. American designers have suggested that she wear their dresses to the Oscars, and there is talk of a movie, she said. Champagne Veuve Clicquot is reveling in her success, and is promoting its Champagne at some of her public appearances. LVMH, its parent company, by contrast, has not even sent a congratulatory note, she said. Even though the book has been translated into 11 languages, no French publisher has signed it, but she said a number of them are negotiating. "The French are afraid to take risks," Ms. Guiliano said. "They philosophize all day long and at the end of the day, there are no decisions." So it is not surprising that her love of French food and respect for French eating habits does not extend to the French work ethic. "I could have never done all this in France," she said. "France is a class society. They kill you if you want to be an entrepreneur here. I would get an ulcer in three weeks." -- ------------------------------ * * Dr. James Lee Ellingson, Adjunct Professor jellings(a)me.umn.edu * * University of Minnesota, tel: 651/645-0753 fax 651 XXX XXXX * * Great Lakes Brewing News, 1569 Laurel Ave., St. Paul, MN 55104 *