Welcome to part 2 of my reflections upon a reread of the book Bringing Up Bébé by Pamela Druckerman, based on five years of living and raising children in France. You can find part 1 here, and I’ve now figured out that there will be three parts to this series - the final one will be on discipline, éducation, and autonomy. I will also be writing a bonus post for paid subscribers where I share more personal reflections based on my own experiences - times when it’s been difficult to be a Brit in France, times when I’ve longed to raise my children in my own culture, and times when I’ve been really grateful for the French way of doing things.
I decided to dedicate an entire post to the theme of food, partly because there’s a lot to say about it, and partly because people express a lot of interest in it. I’m also going to say a little bit more about breastfeeding at the beginning of this post. As I mentioned in part 1, I didn’t actually reread the whole book before writing the first post, so when I said that Druckerman didn’t have much to say about breastfeeding, I just hadn’t got to the whole chapter she devoted to the topic… mea culpa, lesson learned.
Feeding babies
Ok, so a few more words on breastfeeding. Druckerman does, in fact, explore at some length why breastfeeding is much less common in France than, in say, the UK or the US. She mentions things like return to work (typically around 3 months postpartum), sharing the feeding labour with the husband, and concern with appearance, as big factors. Of course everyone has their own reasons for their choices when it comes to feeding their babies, but it seems to me that there is a broader difference in perspective at play.
Of course, French mothers know about the benefits of breastfeeding. Medics here do talk about the nutritional and emotional advantages. But I think, in general, the French are less inclined to see these kinds of decisions in a vacuum, and instead consider the wants and needs of everyone in the picture: babies, parents, siblings, other care givers. There are many factors at play, and when you take a bigger picture view, the “best” option might not be so obvious. As I said in part 1, I don’t have the impression that breastfeeding is such an emotionally fraught issue for the average French mother as it is for a British or American one, and that, surely, is a good thing.
Where I found her observations to be wildly inaccurate were when she discusses diversification - introducing solids. She claims that whilst in America, parents are encouraged to feed their babies “baby rice” as a first food, in France, parents feed their children fresh vegetables from the get go. I’ve found the inverse to be true. I am always low key horrified to notice that the baby food aisle of French supermarkets are full of sweetened céréales that are flavoured with chocolate or vanilla, aimed at babies beginning the weaning process - so 4 to 6 months old. Other baby food options are generally pretty processed and unappealing. I personally try to follow the rule that if I wouldn’t eat it myself then I won’t feed it to my baby, and I definitely wouldn’t eat what I find in the baby food aisle here.
Conversely, the UK and the US seem to be focussing increasingly on exposing babies to a wide variety of “real” foods from as young as possible, and there is a wider variety of baby food products that don’t look quite as unappetising. In fairness, this is probably something that has changed a lot since the book was written, as I think social media has had a big influence on the rise of “baby led weaning” and highlighting the benefits of feeding babies adapted versions of what the rest of the family is eating.
Also - no judgement to anyone who is most comfortable feeding their babies baby rice or similar - it was the first thing I fed my oldest. It just struck me that Druckerman’s comments here seemed very out of step with my experience.
Crèche and school meals
Druckerman writes at length about the fantastic meal provision in crèches and schools in France. It is absolutely true that varied, balanced meals are provided in three courses, and the menus sound genuinely appealing. I think she exaggerates the reality a bit - unless things have changed since she wrote the book - in that, when I’ve had occasion to observe these meals, they aren’t quite as visually appetising as they appear on the menu. That said, these dishes are being prepared for hundreds of kids, so I guess something’s gotta give. It definitely “works” in that kids are exposed to lots of different foods and are much more likely to eat them when they see all their friends doing so. For example, my kids asked me to buy beetroot at home - which I never had, since I personally don’t like it - after they had tried it and enjoyed it at school.
The cost of the meal is on a sliding scale, from around 60c to €5 per day, depending on household income. There is also the option to bring your child home for lunch. Since it’s a public school and therefore enrolment is based on proximity, everyone lives within a 10 minute walk, so this isn’t unrealistic. The lunch break is 1hr45, so that leaves enough time to get home and then back to school. However, packed lunches are not permitted unless there are extenuating circumstances like food allergies, and the canteen will not cater for special diets like kosher or halal - instead, a note is made, and the pork part of the meal simply won’t be served to those children.
Lunchtime at school also teaches kids how to eat. They sit at small tables, are served course by course, and use proper cutlery and crockery. They don’t begin eating until everyone has said bon appétit. The meal is fairly leisurely, and they are encouraged to try everything that is served. I, personally, am really grateful for this framework, as I’m certain that it has made my kids better eaters - in terms of what they eat and how they eat it - at home, too.
In general, lunch is the biggest meal of the day for the French. I remember when I was an au pair just outside of Paris, I was always starving in the evenings because dinner was typically something like sliced tomatoes with ham and a little bit of bread. It took me ages to realise that both the kids and the adults were eating their biggest meal at lunchtime, so dinner was always light. I’m sure this is healthier, but I’ve never quite managed to adopt it for myself - I’m hardwired to want my biggest meal in the evening.
Le goûter
She talks a lot about how French kids only eat 3 meals + 1 snack per day, and that this starts from babyhood. Again, I think she’s exaggerating. I don’t think anyone is denying milk to hungry babies, and I’ve definitely seen many kids eat snacks at the park outside the allotted “snack time”. That said, the goûter is a huge deal. This is the “formal” snack that tides kids over until dinner, and happens mid-afternoon or after school. Playdates usually revolve around the goûter; a kid will come over for a slice of cake and a compote (applesauce pouch) around 3pm, and then stay for an hour or two to play.
It is certainly true that the culture of on-demand snacks does not really exist. Kids are expected to wait until the next mealtime or the goûter to eat - children don’t eat at school outside of lunchtime, and the typical school day is 8.45 until 4.20. Of course, though, if a child is hungry after running around at the park then they are not going to be denied food until the scheduled time.
Sweet treats
My experience definitely aligns with Druckerman’s vis-à-vis attitudes to sweets (cookies, cake, chocolate, etc.). French kids appear to eat a lot of it - most kids will typically be handed something like a a sachet of cookies or a chocolate filled crêpe after school. Occasionally you see a parent give a child a banana or a little bag of nuts, but this is unusual. You may also have noticed on the menu sample that some kind of sweet is served most days at school.
However, this is woven into a balanced diet, and one in which children are expected to - and do - eat a good variety of foods. The obsession with, and fear of, sugar that seems prevalent in the UK and the US just does not exist here; don’t eat too much of it, but some is fine. This is something I’ve really adopted into my own approach. My kids eat some kind of sweet most days at home, but as a consequence, they’re not hung up on it. They eat a little bit a move on. If we tell them no, it’s not a big deal. This is something I think the French do really well.
This notion can be applied more generally, to adults as well as children. The foods the French are most famous for are not exactly health foods - bread, cheese, buttery pastries, creamy cakes. Nonetheless, the French are in much better health than either Brits or Americans by pretty much any measure. This really can be put down to the old everything in moderation adage. It’s no big deal to eat these things fairly regularly, in reasonable quantities, so it doesn’t become a source of fixation. Food is also such an integral part of the culture that enjoying good food and wine is seen a part of being sociable, rather than a shameful vice.
I’ve painted a fairly rosy picture here, and I do have mainly positive feelings about French food culture, but there are definite drawbacks, too. It is clearly closely connected to questions of body image, and there really is a high value placed on thinness and restraint. France is far behind the UK and the US in pushing back on the narrative that thin = good, fat = bad. It’s still common to hear people talking about skipping breakfast in favour of an espresso and a cigarette in order to stay “in shape”. However, I never hear people talk about “clean” eating, or harping on about sugar/carbs/whatever being dangerous. As with everything, there are good and bad aspects of the food culture, but if we ever leave France then there are many things I’d like to retain in our family’s approach to food and eating.
Thank you for reading, and I’ll be back soon with part 3, on discipline, éducation, and authority.
I’m loving this series so much!!