One of the best food posts I’ve read lately was over to a site where our obsession is not their obsession. Atlantic writer Ta-Nehisi Coates was filing from Paris, where he is living temporarily after swapping apartments with one of his readers, and he weighed in (so to speak) on how he sees no fat people in his foster city. It’s just a lovely take on the French way of eating/living and how he is finding himself eating/living better by adapting. His observations that he has weaned himself off Diet Coke and snacking really resonated with me, because I’ve learned over many, many trips that you will always eat/live better on the road if you eat/live like the locals. And some of those good habits will follow you home. On our first trip to Italy (way, way back when) we learned to eat salad after the main course; as Bob’s fixer Massimo insisted: It’s a scrub brush for your system. I have a Coke (regular) about once every five years since learning there are so many better ways to get caffeine into your system in the a.m. I will always prefer cheese over dessert as the very last part of a meal. Etc. But I will admit to a twinge on reading Coates’s post, given that this is my seventh year without a taste of Paris and I’m not heading there anytime soon. So he has me pulling out cookbooks. This one is by Patricia Wells, who knows from all things French from way, way back. The recipes from actual cafés and restaurants are strongest, BTW.