Cutting a Trim Figure in the Land of Croissants

Some travelers think of Paris and picture young lovers, fashions to die for, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre or Versailles. Not my friends. They think of food.

John recommended the heavenly steak and divine French fries at L’Entrecote, the Parisian steakhouse.

Sergio reminisced about the perfect duck--and the exorbitant bill--at Tour D’Argent, the fancy penthouse restaurant overlooking Notre Dame and the Seine.

Karen gave me “The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris” marked with her favorite cafes, bistros, brasseries, wine bars, tea salons, pastry shops, ice cream parlors and chocolatiers.

Gastronomic indulgences beckoned during my weeklong vacation, but I was on Weight Watchers and determined to continue losing the rest of the 50 pounds I’d gained since my wedding.

Paris is no place to watch calories--a slice of foie gras has 660; a chocolate eclair, 300; a cup of sorbet, for those who have the willpower, only 100. Yet most French women believe they can never be too thin.

The French have two words for thin. “Mince” is defined in Collins Robert as thin or slender. The French-born husband of a friend defined it as: “Really fit. Really looking good. In great shape.” “Maigre” is defined as thin or skinny. “Like a toothpick,” said my friend’s husband. “Like Kate Moss,” said a new French friend. Like the women I saw on the Metro. How do they stay so slim in a land synonymous with culinary delights?

It’s easier to stay slim in France, according to my pencil-thin French teacher, Catherine. No food courts tempt shoppers at the mall. Portions in restaurants or the supermarket are generally much smaller than in the United States. The yogurt comes in little cups that hold 100 grams, about half of an American cup. A can of Coca-Cola Light, translation Diet Coke, contains about a cup instead of our customary 12 ounces. Potatoes, onions and other vegetables tend more toward the size of golf balls then California’s baseball-sized produce. A steak is not much bigger than a deck of cards, unlike the 16-ounce New York steaks that crowd plates here.

In Paris, exercise is not limited to the gym. People walk everywhere and all the time--including up five flights of stairs to charming apartments in classic, old buildings that lack elevators.

In anticipation of my trip, I bought two pairs of comfortable shoes. I planned to enjoy Paris without gaining back any of the 22 pounds that had been so hard to lose, but I needed help in the land of croissants and other temptations.

The day after my arrival, I went to a Weight Watchers meeting, held at lunchtime in a mall in Montparnasse. Of the 30 women there, half looked perfect to me. Only a few clearly needed to lose weight.

The routine was similar to my lunchtime meeting held at work at The Times every Thursday. First, the women weighed in, though not in pounds, but in kilos. Then the leader began the discussion.

What to do when you’re craving chocolate, a universal problem, was one topic. One woman explained she read a good book to distract herself. Another drank tea, and the feeling passed. One took a shower to relax. Another phoned a friend. Still another, who preferred dark chocolate, bought only milk chocolate for her husband and children. Nothing is forbidden on the Weight Watchers program. The leader, the blond and svelte Anna, explained that some people can eat chocolate in moderation. Others, like me, need to stay away from it, except, of course, in France.

Counting calories isn’t emphasized on Weight Watchers except when members keep track of 700 optional calories allowed weekly in addition to prescribed portions of protein, breads, fruits, dairy products and vegetables. At the Paris meeting, the leader flashed pictures of such delicacies as pa^te, sausage and pastries, and the members guessed the number of calories amid groans and laughter.

The hourlong meeting also focused on reducing fat and sugar from meals, but my elementary command of French didn’t allow me to keep up with that discussion. I did understand suggestions to plan small meals at home and to save calories for later in the week because you never know when you are going to get an invitation to eat out, and the recommendation to save desserts for weekends. And I secretly rejoiced when a woman, about my size, explained that she had just returned from a two-week vacation and hadn’t gained any weight. My goal, exactly. We would have given her a round of applause in L.A.

The meeting ended with an announcement that the average weight loss for the week was 878 grams, or nearly 2 pounds.

After the meeting, I asked Anna several questions with the help of multilingual Lena Sieuw, who works for the French research director of Weight Watchers. Did every woman there really need to lose weight? Anna explained that working women who attend lunchtime meetings tend to want to lose 10 or 15 kilos (about 22 to 33 pounds). To join they must weigh at least 3 kilos above the minimum weight recommended for their height. In Anna’s experience, women who stay at home are often heavier than working women and want to lose as much as 30 kilos. Heavier members also tend to lose weight for health reasons rather than for appearances.

Anna’s recommendations for my vacation: Eat fish without butter, potatoes and rice, lots of salad and raw vegetables and no desserts. I immediately put that advice to work when Lena took me to lunch at L’Entrecote. She suggested string beans instead of the famous French fries. I politely objected because I didn’t want to feel deprived. We had succulent steak; I ate half. We had salad without dressing; I ate all except for the high-fat nuts. I had lots of string beans and a heaping spoonful of wonderful French fries, a couple of sips of a mellow red wine and a Coca-Cola Light. No dessert.

Over a leisurely lunch--Weight Watchers recommends eating slowly and appreciating your food--Lena said there are 700 meetings every week in France. The French program is tailored to that culture and includes a little more meat than the American recommendations. French women don’t snack as much as Americans, according to the mince Lena, who has lost 5 kilos on the Weight Watchers program and works hard to stay trim.

At dinner at the Benoit with my friend Carla and cousin Carol, I decided to eat freely, stopping when full. That meal began with pa^te that melted in my mouth, followed by salmon and rice and steaming hot chocolate cake. I ate all of the fish, but the pa^te and cake were a little too rich for my Weight Watchers-trained tastes. Half was sufficient.

During my week in France, I feasted on the famous duck at Tour D’Argent, lots of lamb, sausages, more fish, croissants, Berthillon’s celebrated fruit sorbet, lemon tarts, an orange souffle to die for, a mound of chocolate cake oozing dark fudge at L’Epi DuPin and plenty of wine and champagne. Sometimes I cleaned my plate. Sometimes I didn’t. Some days I ate only a banana or yogurt for breakfast in anticipation of a great lunch. Or I lunched lightly on soup in anticipation of a memorable dinner. I enjoyed dessert without regret until the flight home.

My own Weight Watchers meeting was scheduled the day after I returned home--exactly a week after the meeting in Paris. Skipping a week crossed my mind. I dreaded the scale but decided to go anyway.

Good news. I had lost a pound and a half.