Happily, the notion of not only eating right but eating well has swept the country in the past decade or so. Foodie capitals dot the nation, in Austin, in Portland, and I’ve been hearing some good things about Charleston, South Carolina as of late. When I lived in France, I learned not only to eat right, Make sure you get enough iron into your diet, Drink at least eight glasses of water every day, but to eat well. Americans eat right. We have a national obsession with weight control and dieting. But how often do we eat well?
The art of eating really isn’t so hard or fancy as it sounds. Simply put, it is learning to eat for pleasure. And we’ve all seen those films or read those novels. When the heroine leaves her native American soil, travels to Italy for a short season and learns how to experience pleasure in the day-to-day. Long repasts are enjoyed with a bottle of wine, soft music playing in the background, and a group of friends conversing for hours at a time. Food becomes almost seductive as each bite is examined and becomes a long drawn out affair. But you know that. I know that. My 200-page thesis was composed of elements of all of this.
Eating well is the end product of cooking well. More than trying not to overcook a steak, cooking well is a process, a labor of love. Finding the right ingredients, pairing them in the correct quantities together, and savoring the smells and tastes that all act as a prelude to eating well.
Every French kitchen owns at least one classic Le Creuset Dutch oven. Sturdy, heavy, and now in an array of gem toned colors. I took the liberty of visiting one of their American outlets and fell in love all over again with the modern epicenter of French home cooking. While they may cost a pretty penny, they do last a lifetime. What does eating well mean to you? I can’t wait to make one of those flame colored beauties at home in my American kitchen, serving me well into my years of gastronomic pleasure to come.