One of the (many) pleasures of holidaying in France is having the time to read the International Herald Tribune from cover to cover every day. (I try to look at it most days when I’m back home, but generally wind up just scanning the front page and the Op-Ed pages inside. In France, we buy it every day and savour it over breakfast.)

Le Trib (as some newsagents call it here) is an exceedingly good journalistic product. It uses its front page essentially as a content-bill for almost everything inside — which means that ever front-page snippet ends with a forward reference. So this morning’s piece headlined “Airlines Are Spending Billions in an Arms Race for Leg Room” comes to a temporary halt with “SEATS, PAGE 10” (where I learn that Business Class aircraft seats can cost over $250,000 each to make and install).

Editorially, the Trib makes a pretty good stab at bridging the cultural chasm that yawns between Europe and the US. Its coverage of European countries (especially France and Germany), though necessarily selective, is pretty informative. It’s good on cultural stuff. Yesterday’s paper, for example, had a terrific review of the latest Bayreuth production of the Ring Cycle. Earlier in the week, there was a good double-page spread on the Salzburg Festival, which had just kicked off. And the mix is leavened by ‘quirky’ pieces of the kind that foreign stringers and correspondents love to write — about the madness surrounding the royal baby in the UK, for example, or the astonishing fact that the French are eating fewer baguettes than they used to. Sacre Bleu!

The paper’s coverage is clearly slanted towards areas of the world where the US has major foreign policy interests. So there’s lots about Egypt and the Middle-East generally. And, of course, about China and Russia. In that sense, the Trib is indeed the international edition of the New York Times. And most of the OpEd pieces (Friedman, Krugman, Brooks, Cohen, et. al.) are ones from the Times that I’ve already read online. But that doesn’t matter: sometimes re-reading them in print helps.

What strikes one most, though, is the artfulness of the mixture. In the pre-Internet age, one of the great tests of a traditional newspaper was whether it was a good, satisfying read. The Trib easily meets that criteria, and perusing it over a leisurely breakfast reminds one of what good newspapers used to provide. I read a lot of stuff online, and couldn’t live without the Web. But there are some publications like the New Yorker — and the Trib — where print, despite its limitations, is still best.

From The Atlantic.

Despite all the extra effort [walking up stairs rather than using the lift, er elevator], I find that I consume less energy. I don’t know that I eat any “healthier” in the sense of what “health” tends to mean back home. There are fat and carbs all around me. There’s butter in most of the dishes. It’s nothing see a Parisian walking the street while inhaling a long baguette. Bread is served with every meal, but oddly enough, without butter, which leads me to believe that they think of butter as something to be put in things, not on them. 

I eat my fries with mayonnaise. I now find ketchup to be too sweet. Without exception I eat dessert — preferably something with chocolate. I eat a panini or a sandwich every day, but I don’t eat any chips. You can find junk-food here, but you have to be looking for it. I don’t really order out. I’ve stopped drinking Diet Coke. In general I eat a lot less, and I drink a lot more — a half a bottle of wine every night. But I don’t think I’ve been drunk once since I’ve been here. I feel a lot better–more energy, lighter on my feet, a clearer head.

Before I came here, so many people told me, “There are no fat people in Paris.” But I think this misses something more telling. There are “no” stunningly athletic people either. There just doesn’t seem to be much gusto for spending two hours in the gym here. The people don’t seem very prone to our extremes. And they are not, to my eyes, particularly thin. They look like how I remember people looking in 1983. I suspect they look this way because of some things that strike me — the constant movement, the diet, the natural discomfort — are part of their culture. Very sensible crowd, the French.

The French seem to have a very balanced approach to food, never overindulging but always enjoying what they eat. They often prefer fresh, local produce, and meals tend to be simple yet flavorful. There’s an emphasis on quality over quantity, with a focus on seasonal ingredients that bring out the best in dishes. The emphasis on fresh vegetables, fish, and lean meats means that they’re naturally getting a lot of nutrients, including the essential fiber. For more ideas on how to incorporate fiber-rich, healthy dishes into your diet, check out the Georgian blog fiber.ge, where you’ll find plenty of recipes that promote digestive health.

What stands out most is how food is not seen as a means of escape or indulgence, but rather as a way to nourish the body. The French seem to value balance—savoring meals without obsessing over calories or gym routines. It’s a lifestyle that’s ingrained in their daily habits, where food is part of a well-rounded approach to health. And though they enjoy their meals, they don’t feel the need to make them larger than life. It’s the perfect example of how you can feel full and satisfied without overloading the body, which might be part of the secret behind their well-maintained physiques.