La Regime du President

By Costas Ayiotis

The eating habits of a nation’s president may be a useful indicator of the state of a country’s psyche and where a country is headed. The presence or absence of certain foods on the presidential table may not only reveal a lot about the state of a nation but also his state of his mind. What happens when a president who hails from Texas refuses to eat broccoli and when another from Arkansas gorges himself on fattening southern style foods such as hamburgers, fried chicken, barbecued steaks and sticky pork ribs? We get two major wars against Iraq, mayhem in Afghanistan, global warming, melting glaciers and a massive global recession.

Sparta was the dominant military power in ancient Greece. Spartan soldiers consumed a vile, evil smelling broth every day of their lives. They were formidable warriors who picked fights with all the other Greek city states. Maybe there’s a strong case to be made that the more refined, sophisticated and varied a cuisine is, the less belligerent the nation. We also know for instance that an ancient civilization like the Chinese, the people who gave us ice cream and noodles can and will eat anything that moves hence the renewed scramble for Africa and that the leaders of certain African countries are blessed with remarkably strong digestive systems, so like locusts they devour everything in sight. Our former Minster of Sport, who is well known and even admired for his gargantuan appetite, has fittingly been nicknamed “Buffet” Balfour. In a similar vein, others have been called “Pork ribs Radebe”, “Chicken feet Chuene”, “Mincemeat Mahlangu” or the “Mieliepap Mampara.”

Around the corner from where I live and next door to Bicccs, my regular early morning coffee spot, the political elite of South Africa are doing very well for themselves. Regime or diet is simply no longer part of their otherwise colourful lexicon. They have reassuringly robust and roving appetites and are in rude health. They regularly indulge in long lavish lunches at their favourite Pretoria restaurant, Ritrovo. The honourable cadres and ministers of our nascent elite couldn’t care less about La Regime et son Politique. And these are not ordinary lunches. While Diepsloot burns, they enjoy multi-course banquets reminiscent of ancient Greek and Roman symposiums. Under the expert care of Chef/Patron Fortunato and his father Commendatore Giovanni Mazzone, they feast on the finest Italian fare and enjoy the best wines and brandies South Africa has to offer.

Some leaders like “Emperor” Jean-Bedel Bokassa of the Central African Republic took matters a step further. He found a unique way to deal with his political opponents. He ate them. So if you’ll pardon the pun, when you become fed up with your politicians and want to put them to good use, you simply recycle them.
Good food and good eating is the mark of a civilized nation and here the emphasis should be on fresh local produce. Conversely when nations adopt the banal and mindless mass culture of fast food and franchised eating, they quickly slide into mediocrity and decline. How many more themed or franchised food stores does the world need? A recent American study has shown that although more and more people go to Starbucks they don’t necessarily create or enjoy a sense of community. They don’t socialize, talk to each other, debate or exchange ideas. Although they drink coffee, they are not true pavementistas having meaningful and spontaneous conversations with each other free of agendas or ulterior motives.

This brings us to France, the country which gave us Brigit Bardot, professional boulevardiers and crème brulee. When Ernest Hemingway lived in Paris in the 1920’s he cleverly solved the café problem by having three regular cafes which he frequented. One nobody knew about, where he went to read and write in private, a second to entertain his mistress and a third café where he went to meet and socialize with his friends. So why not rather support the brave and solitary chef patron or proprietor of the stand alone, high street, neighbourhood or village café and reject the ersatz or manufactured pseudo culture of imitation and replication forced down our throats by the dubious forces of globalization. Consider that even in café friendly France the war of attrition against independently run establishments continues. In 1960 there were 200 000 traditional style cafes in France. Today their number is down to a mere 40 000. France is a country with a proud and distinguished culinary tradition which goes back hundreds of years. France and Italy have long stood at the pinnacle of what good eating is all about. In the days before Italy’s unification, the two countries even took time out from their endemic fighting and fornicating, to collaborate on the culinary front. When Catherine de Medici married the King of France, she brought along her chefs, a host of elaborate new recipes and even introduced the French court to the fork, a rather useful Florentine invention.

The neighbouring Belgians of course will splutter over one of their famous beers and dispute the pre-eminent position of the French and the Italians in the culinary stakes but nobody in their right mind takes them too seriously or even listens to them and the other bureaucrats loitering in Brussels. To be fair though, the city did have a sprout named after it. Except for a minor blemish in their colonial history, their cruel and bloody legacy in the Congo, the Belgians are the Canadians of Europe.

Now it turns out that the hyperactive President of France, Nicolas Sarkozy has chosen to forego the pleasures of the palate. While his insatiable neighbor Silvio Berlusconi behaves like an irrepressible rogue, grabs the bottoms of meter maids, cavorts with twenty year olds and eats spaghetti, Sarko has taken up jogging and eats like a supermodel. This is in part to please and impress his wife Carla Bruni, a former supermodel turned chanteuse and now the first lady of France. In short, Sarko is behaving like a New Age Wimp. I don’t think the French public is very impressed. If reports coming out of the now redundant kitchens of the Elysee Palace are to be believed, the diminutive Sarko survives on a diet of cottage cheese, fruit compote and mineral water. Now there’s a simple test to determine whether something constitutes real or desirable food. Would a prisoner condemned to the gallows request a tub of cottage cheese as his last meal?

Being labeled a lightweight is not a good thing for an ambitious politician yet the slightly built Sarko has already lost 7 kilograms. Then Sarko met the world’s sexiest male politician. He bumped into the tall and athletic looking Barack Obama and he noticed the way Carla looked appreciatively at the fine figure of the photogenic pin up. Sarko immediately felt jealous and he became even more determined to get fit and stay in shape. A tan is not on the cards. He now also follows the example of recent US presidents and jogs every day. Carla’s personal trainer also introduced him to the joys of pelvic floor exercises and leg squats.

As the president of the world’s greatest cheese eating nation, Sarko’s every move is closely watched by his political opponents, by the ministers in his cabinet and by the French public. The president’s opponents criticize his diet and his leadership style as infantile and dismiss it as la Politique de la Silhouette. Also his choices, preferences and behavior send clear messages to the nation at large. When he first took office he behaved like a pop star and became known as the “bling-bling” president. He wore branded clothes and took great pleasure in showing off his Rolex. Then Carla Bruni came along and changed all that. She whispered into his ear and told him that the best way to show off was by not showing off at all.

The problem now is that Sarko wants to surround himself with thin people and imposes his will on others close to him. Reliable sources in Paris reveal that he “persuades” his cabinet colleagues to lose weight, stay in shape, get better haircuts and dress more stylishly. One can just imagine the type of late night pillow talk that takes place between him and Carla at the apartment they share in one of the city’s more fashionable Arrondisements.
“Mon dieu! He looks and dresses like a butcher from Marseilles. He and his frumpy provincial wife need a complete makeover. Either that or I demote him when I next reshuffle the cabinet. I’ll make him our ambassador to Vanuatu or Kiribati. Either he shapes up or he ships out. ”

Sarko’s ministers have got the message. Eager to please him, get noticed, get promoted, or simply to keep their jobs, they are behaving like most unimaginative and spineless corporate weasels and slavishly copying the boss. One minister has even taken to eating soup, fat free cottage cheese and berries to impress Sarko. No need for that Florentine fork after all. A spoon will do just fine for the nouvelle cuisine pour bebe. Aides at the Elysee Palace confirm that at formal functions, on Sarko’s orders, court or banquet cuisine is now officially out. Meat, pomme frites, cheeses and rich desserts are no longer served to guests. Instead, fish, salads and sorbets are served. Wine is served to those who want it but Sarko sticks to mineral water. This also signals a clear departure from his predecessor Jacques Chirac, who famously favoured beer. Chirac championed the cause of farmers and his aides would warn the staff at cafes, bistros and even four star Michelin restaurants to always put a beer on the table in front of him. This was designed to show that he was the president who was in touch with the common man. Wine was considered too snobbish and elitist.

Now you may reasonably argue that Sarko is setting a good example by encouraging healthy eating habits and maybe also be doing his bit to save the planet by not eating meat. After all is simplicity, self-restraint and moderation not the way to go in a world destroyed by greed and excess? But is a diet of cottage cheese and fruit compote the right way to go? Madame Hortense de Marigny Chabrol, a leading Parisian dietician who operates from a tres chic bureau in the 7th Arrondisement, clearly believes it isn’t. She maintains that the president’s diet is an unbalanced and unhealthy crash diet.
“Maintaining a good silhouette is one thing but the president’s diet is unfortunately an unsustainable and dangerous fad diet over the long term. Mr. Sarkozy is obviously a busy man with a hectic and punishing schedule. His body needs proper fuel to give him the energy he needs to satisfy Carla. That can only come from the correct combination of healthy fats, good carbohydrates and lean protein. It’s no wonder he collapsed recently.”

So what message is Sarko sending to his compatriots and to the world with his exercise regime and his frugal and uninspiring diet? What can we make of his new dining philosophy? Sarko it seems is determined to show the French public and the wider world that he is a fit, healthy, virile and vigorous leader. OK so we know that he tries his best to keep Carla happy, not an easy job. We know he is not a glutton and probably does not suffer from constipation. But in avoiding or shunning the wide variety of gourmet delicacies and sublime regional dishes France has to offer, he is also thumbing his nose at the traditions and culture of his country. Food and gastronomy is a matter of national pride in France. It is an integral and undeniable part of the country’s heritage. Can we imagine France without its world famous chefs, its Michelin rated restaurants, its bistros, patisseries, chocolatiers, boulangeries, charcuteries and epiceries? They form part of the wealth of the country, its patrimonie, its legacy and its very essence. You don’t mess with that if you want to get re-elected.

Sarko is a determined and driven man and clearly he wants to be taken seriously on the global stage and be seen to punch above his weight. Watching him address international events, one can clearly see that he is enjoying himself immensely. He is animated, expressive and gesticulates a lot. He can’t believe his luck, a case of the school nerd who is now accepted by the big boys.
He also has a passion for service delivery, a concept completely alien in some parts of the world, especially in South Africa. Sarko wants to instill German productivity levels and a Thatcherite work ethic in the French. He’s mad. The diet has obviously made him unstable. The French have no business copying the nasty habits of the Germans or the English. It used to be that if you were fired or retrenched in France you became an overnight hero. It was like winning the lotto. You received two years compulsory severance pay and you celebrated with your friends and family over pastis at your local café. The French know what the rest of the world has yet to figure out; the rampant growth model has ruined the world and work is seriously overrated.

If he wants to copy the English he should consider the fine example set by one of Britain’s best loved leaders, Winston Churchill who in marked contrast had a hearty appetite and ate and drank his way to the brink of bankruptcy. He presided over long lunches and dinners at his Chartwell estate featuring several courses. He loved alcohol and had he met the old soak Boris Yeltsin, he would have drunk him under the table. He also smoked 3000 Cuban cigars a year, more than quarter of a million in his life time. He saved his country from wearing lederhosen, socks with sandals and drinking schnapps. He also authored several impressive volumes and lived to a ripe old age.

Although he holds one of the most powerful executive posts in the Western world, unfettered by the kind of checks and balances which restrain the US president, at least Sarko is sensible enough not to tell the French public what to eat. He wouldn’t dare. Marie Antoinette tried that and we all know what happened to her. Was it not another Frenchman, no less than Napoleon Bonaparte who believed that an army marches on its stomach? Well the same can be said of a nation. A well fed population glued to their TV sets is unlikely to start a revolution.

I believe that the diet will eventually lead to Sarko’s demise. The regime will make him irritable, miserable, irrational and impossible to live with which could be a short term inconvenience for France but a long term blessing. But then politicians are unhinged and unreliable at the best of times and one should not get too attached to them. Their political lifespan should ideally be brief like a Hollywood marriage. Like overpaid investment bankers, the function they perform is socially useless. I still find the idea rather quaint that we are required to vote for people who we know are lying to us but then so much of what we are duped into doing by society, by large corporations, by institutions, by what the French call La Systeme, is based on a monumental lie.

Nicolas Sarkozy is at best a temporary aberration and an amusing distraction. He is a passing fad like his diet. Thankfully his habits are not a reliable indicator of where France is ultimately headed. While the rest of the civilized and thinking world wants to live in a village and emulate the hedonistic French diet and lifestyle, he wants to act like a neurotic Upper East Side Manhattanite. All that his diet tells us is that he is a vain man and a president increasingly isolating himself and out of touch with his people. And the damning evidence against him is mounting. Only last week, in an act of hubris and blatant nepotism, he broke his 2007 promise to the electorate and appointed his son as the head of EPAD, the organization which runs the controversial La Defense business district.

Sarko’s diet is bad for the image and prestige of France. The French public, have quite sensibly chosen not to follow his example. They shrug their shoulders with supreme Gallic indifference, pour themselves a fine glass of Bordeaux and tuck into a hearty cassoulet. We all marvel at the French paradox. We love the French because they are refreshingly different in a world obsessed with uniformity and compliance. Their cars are different, their aircraft are different, their women and their films are different. We love the French because they smoke, they drink and eat whatever they want and yet they still manage to outlive the stressed out of their minds Americans crippled by fear.

Charles de Gaulle once remarked, “France cannot be France without glory.”
I say bollocks! The price of glory is too high and always paid with the blood, guts and sacrifices of ordinary people, by citizens like you and me. There is nothing glorious about being dead. Two million people died because of Napoleon’s quest for glory. Another fifty million died when another megalomaniac, Adolf Hitler pursued his twisted idea of glory for a greater Nazi Germany.
I say forget glory, forget silly diets and forget politicians. France cannot be France without gastronomy. France cannot be France without its villages, its café’s and its legendary culinary traditions. France cannot be France without its celebrated cheeses, its rich pates, its excellent wines and crusty baguettes. But France can and will be France without Nicolas Sarkozy.
Anyone for crème brulee?