Nuwe resepte

Kan kitskoswerkers dit regkry om kitskos te eet? (Skyfievertoning)

Kan kitskoswerkers dit regkry om kitskos te eet? (Skyfievertoning)

Hoe lank moet 'n minimumloon-werknemer werk om die duurste item op die spyskaart te kan bekostig?

20) McDonald's, Southwest Chicken Salad, $ 4,79 (38,3 minute)

Die gewildste hamburger-kitskosketting ter wêreld is op nommer 20 op ons lys. Terwyl sommige van hul spesiale kwartponders en slaaie 'n bietjie hoër is, val die meeste spyskaarte in die algemeen in die waarde -maaltydspektrum. Hulle bied ook maaltye met ekstra waarde, insluitend friet en 'n drankie, maar die duurste item is hul Suidwes -hoenderslaai met gegrilde of knapperige hoender.

19) Chick-fil-A, gegrilde hoenderbroodjie, $ 4,89 (39,1 minute)

Chick-fil-A het in Georgië begin met die belofte om hoender van hoë gehalte aan die massas te voorsien. Hulle spyskaarte is geneig om 'n bietjie hoër te wees as hul mededingers as gevolg van die kwaliteit hoender wat in hul toebroodjies gebruik word. Die Chargrilled Chicken Sandwich is die duurste item op die spyskaart teen $ 4,89.

18) Burger King, Chipotle Chicken Sandwich, $ 4,99 (39,9 minute)

Burger King word gereeld met sy aartsvyand, McDonald's, gekonfronteer en het ook dikwels hoër pryse. Die ketting het meer as 12 000 kitskosrestaurante in meer as 70 lande ter wêreld. Tans is hul duurste Chipotle Chicken Sandwich die duurste item. Vir $ 4,99 kan verbruikers kies uit bros of gebraaide hoender.

17) Sonic, SuperSONIC Bacon Double Cheeseburger, $ 5,09 (40,7 minute)

Sonic Drive-In is 'n gewilde kitskosketting met meer as 3,500 plekke in 43 state. Besoekers kan kies om deur te ry en te parkeer om hul kos te geniet of fisies in 'n Sonic -winkel te stap. (Bygevoeg bonus: bedieners rol na motors wat rollerblades dra.) Die spyskaart is redelik uitgebreid en bied alles van tater tot worsbroodjies tot hamburgers. Die SuperSONIC Bacon Double Cheeseburger is 'n kolossale toebroodjie waarvoor die restaurant $ 5,09 kos.

16) Arby's, Angus Philly, $ 5,29 (42,3 minute)

Arby's, wat veral bekend is vir sy gebraaide beesvleis en toebroodjies en cheddarbroodjies, word besit deur dieselfde onderneming as Wendy's, en hulle stem baie ooreen met hul prysstruktuur. Die klassieke toebroodjie en Cheddar -toebroodjie waarmee baie vertroud is, kos $ 3,69, maar vir diegene wat die perke wil toets, kos die Angus Philly -toebroodjie en die Angus Three Cheese and Bacon maar liefst $ 5,29.

15) Taco Bell, Fiesta Taco Slaai, Hoender, $ 5,49 (43,9 minute)

Taco Bell word in vergelyking met ander kitskos-mededingers beskou as 'n meer koste-effektiewe opsie as 'n Wendy's of Arby's. Hulle is bekend vir hul items in Tex-Mex-styl, soos quesadillas, burrito's en nachos. Om egter tred te hou met die neiging om gesonde items op spyskaarte aan te bied, bied die restaurant nou 'n Fiesta Taco -slaai met hoender wat $ 5,49 kos.

14) Dairy Queen, Hoenderslaai, $ 5,59 (44,7 minute)

Terwyl Dairy Queen bekend is vir sy roomys, Blizzards en ander bevrore lekkernye, bied baie van hul plekke 'n volwaardige spyskaart. Hulle het 'n half pond FlameThrower GrillBurger, wat $ 5,29 inklok, maar hulle hoenderslaai, bros of gebraai, kos $ 5,59.

13) Culver's, Double Culver's Bacon Deluxe, $ 5,59 (44,7 minute)

Hierdie kitskosketting in die Midde-Ooste is bekend vir sy botterburgers wat relatief groter is as die hamburgers van hul mededingers. Besoekers stroom ook na die plaaslike eetplek vir sy skud, mout en bevrore vla. Die duurste spyskaartitem tans is The Culver's Bacon Deluxe, met 'n prys van $ 5,59.

12) KFC, Famous Bowls, $ 5,99 (47,9 minute)

KFC, gewild gemaak vir sy lekker gebakte hoender, het 'n groot poging aangewend om gesonder spyskaartitems te skep en ander alternatiewe aan te bied, soos die gewilde KFC Famous Bowls. Alhoewel KFC ook bekend is daarvoor dat dit groter maaltye in die gesinsstyl bedien, met 'n mengsel van hoendervlerkies en trommelstokkies, is die Famous Bowls die hoogste prys vir 'n enkele spyskaart en kos $ 5,99.

11) Wendy's, Baconator, Various Salads $ 6,29 (50,3 minute)

Wendy's is deurgaans nommer drie agter McDonald's en Burger King as die beste kitskosrestaurante in die land. Terwyl hul spyskaart 'n verskeidenheid hamburgers, hoender, toebroodjies en patat bevat, is hulle veral bekend vir die gebruik van vierkantige pasteie vir hul hamburgers. Hul slaaie is relatief duur, soos hul Apple Pecan -slaai, Chicken BLT Cobb en Spicy Chicken Caesar, wat ooreenstem met die prys van sy gewilde groot hamburger, die Baconator. Al die items kos $ 6,29.

10) Steak 'n Shake, Southwest Chicken Salad, Apple Pecan Salad, en California Steak Burger, $ 6,49 (51,9 minute)

Soortgelyk aan die prysstruktuur van Wendy, is die speserye hamburgers en hul volgrootte slaaie die duurste spyskaarte by Steak 'n Shake. Steak 'n Shakes kom meestal in die Midde-Weste en die suidelike state voor en is baie aantreklik vir verbruikers vanweë hul 24-uur-beleid. Die restaurant se Steakburgers is beesvleisburgers gemaak van T-bone, entrecote en ronde steaks, wat die kwaliteit van die kos in direkte kontras met baie van hul mededingers verhoog. Hul slaaie, saam met die California Steak Burger, kos $ 6,49.

9) Chipotle, Burrito Bowl, Carnitas of Barbacoa, $ 6,65 (53,2 minute)

Chipotle Mexican Grill staan ​​bekend as 'n vinnige gemaklike eetplek. Beskermers kan kies uit 'n verskeidenheid opsies, soos burrito -bakke, burrito's, taco's en slaaie, en kan kies om byvoegings soos salsa en guacamole by te voeg. Al hul items gebruik natuurlike en organiese bestanddele. Hul enigste duurste item is hul burrito -bak, bestaande uit rys en 'n keuse van vleis. As gaste egter verkies om kaas, ekstra vleis of hoender en guacamole by te voeg, styg die prys dramaties en kan dit soms meer as $ 10 kos. Die burrito -bak self kos $ 6,65 sonder enige byvoeging met carnitas of barbacoa (vleiskeuse).

8) Long John Silver's, garnale mandjie, $ 6,79 (54,3 minute)

Met meer as 1300 restaurante van Long John Silver wêreldwyd, het die kitskosketting vir seekos naam gemaak deur groter maaltye te bedien in teenstelling met unieke items. Hulle bied 'n verskeidenheid geregte en gesinsmaaltye wat uiters koste-effektief is. Die duurste enkele item is die garnale mandjie wat $ 6,79 kos.

7) Five Guys, Bacon Cheeseburger, $ 6,99 (55,9 minute)

Five Guys staan ​​bekend as 'n burgerketting van hoër gehalte wat 100 % vars beesvleis gebruik, sonder vullers of preserveermiddels. Nog 'n bykomende bonus by Five Guys is dat wanneer 'n klant 'n hamburger of wors bestel, 'n magdom toppings aangebied word, insluitend mayo, blaarslaai, piekels, tamaties, geroosterde uie, sampioene, ketchup, mosterd, lekkernye, uie, jalapeños, groenrissies, A.1. Steaksous, braaisous en warm sous, sonder ekstra koste. Die item met die hoogste prys tans is die spekkaasburger, wat vir $ 6,99 verkoop word.

6) Jimmy John's, The J.J. Gargantuan, $ 7,59 (60,7 minute)

Jimmy John's is 'n kitskos-subwinkel wat met Subway en Quiznos meeding. Terwyl die ander twee verskillende groottes subs bied, bied Jimmy John's 8-duim subs, wat hulle 'n bietjie duurder maak. Hulle duurste spyskaart is die JJ Gargantuan, 'n sub gevul met Genua salami, gesnyde gerookte ham, capicola, braaivleis, kalkoen en provolone, bedien op 'n tuisgemaakte Franse broodjie bedek met uie, mayo, blaarslaai, tamatie en hul tuisgemaakte Italiaanse aantrek. Die groot submaat kos $ 7,59.

5) White Castle, sak visknabbelaars, $ 7,99 (63,9 minute)

White Castle, 'n burgerketting wat bekend is vir sy klein skuifbakke, is gewoonlik aan die onderkant van die kostespektrum vir kitskosverskaffers. Een van hul duurder unieke items is egter die sak visknippies wat $ 7,99 kos, redelik hoog in vergelyking met hul enkele skuifbande wat $ 0,69 kos.

4) Quiznos, Black Angus on Rosemary Foccacia, groot, $ 7,99 (63,9 minute)

Toebroodjiewinkel Quiznos in Denver bied 'n wye verskeidenheid opsies vir groot en klein toebroodjies. Quiznos is die tweede op die gebied van Subway wat die algehele inkomste en gewildheid betref, en bied 'n verskeidenheid ander spyskaartopsies buite subs wat platbrood, slaaie en sop insluit. Tans is die spyskaart van die hoogste vlak die swart Angus -steak op roosmaryn -focaccia, wat $ 7,99 kos.

3) Metro, Big Philly Cheesesteak, $ 8,25 (66 minute)

Subway, die toebroodjieketting nommer een in die VSA, het 'n wye verskeidenheid subopsies wat wissel in pryse. Maar hul grootste, mees buitensporig duur spyskaart is die voetlange Big Philly Cheesesteak wat $ 8,25 kos. Die toebroodjie, wat deur die onderneming '' vleisliefhebbersdroom '' genoem word, bevat gesnyde steak wat gesmelt is met gesmelte kaas.

2) Panda Express, enige entree (insluitend Mandarin Chicken, Beijing Beef, ens.), $ 9,50 (76 minute)

Panda Express is 'n bekende kitskosrestaurant wat die beste erken word vir die verskaffing van 'veramerikaniseerde' Chinese kos. Met meer as 1500 restaurante landwyd, is Panda Express bekend vir sy borde Chinese kos, wat die voorgereg en sye bymekaar pas. Die duurste item is egter 'n enkele voorgereg met keuses soos Mandarin Chicken of Bejing Beef wat vir $ 9,50 vir 'n groot bord verkoop word.

1) Panera -brood, Pesto Sechettinni Pasta en Penne Bolognese, $ 9,99 (79,9 minute)

Panera Bread het in die geledere gestyg as dit kom by gesonder vinnig-toevallige opsies. Hierdie restaurant bied 'n aantal verskillende spyskaarte, waaronder toebroodjies, panini's, slaaie, sop en pasta. Tans staan ​​die pastabars bo-aan die lys met die hoogste prysvoedsel. Die groot pesto Sechettinni -pasta kos $ 9,99, net soos die rustieke penne Bolognese.


Van escargots tot le Big Mac: hoe die land van haute cuisine vir kitskos geval het

Franse kos: so goed dat die wyse hoofde van Unesco dit as deel van die wêreld se ontasbare kulturele erfenis verklaar het, so gevier dat die liefde daarvan 'n nasie bepaal het.

'Vertel my wat u eet, en ek sal u vertel wat u is', soos die oorspronklike eter, die gastronoom Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, dit in 1825 gestel het. En hy was iemand wat ongetwyfeld sy lentilles vertes du puy et kaviaar van sy langoustines à la nage en sy poulette du perche uit sy poitrine de grive.

Frankryk se eetgewoontes - en nie net in restaurante nie - was jare lank 'n voorbeeld: porsies beheer baie basiese beginsels (eiers, botter, brood, aartappels) min verwerkte of kitskos, baie vis, vrugte, plantaardige olies en (natuurlik) vol vet suiwel gestruktureerde, gesellige, gesinsgerigte maaltye. Franse vroue word immers nie vet nie.

Dus, waarom het 'n nuwe verslag verlede week voorgestel dat 30 miljoen mense - byna die helfte van die land se bevolking - teen 2030 vetsugtig kan wees? En hoekom, op 'n sonnige middagete vroeg in die herfs, is daar 'n tou buite McDonald's-een van 1.440 in Frankryk, die tweede grootste wêreldmark van die ketting-aan die Boulevard des Italiens in die sentrale Parys?

'Ek kan nie glo dat u dit vra nie,' sê Stephane Loiseau, 'n 29-jarige rekeningbestuurder wat op sy bestelling tik-en CBO”(Hoender, spek, ui) met patat - in die raakskerm. 'Dit is so 'n cliché. Hulle is goedkoop, vinnig, gebruik goeie bestanddele. Waarom moet die Franse verskil van die res van die wêreld? ”

Natalie Girardot, 'n verkoopsassistent by 'n juwelierswinkel in die omgewing, was ewe afwysend. 'Weet u dat hulle alle Franse bestanddele gebruik?' sê sy en wys na haar skinkbord. 'Kyk: Charolais -beesvleis, fourme d'Ambert -kaas bo -op. Plus 'n behoorlike vinaigrette. Frankryk hou van McDonald's. Dit het nog altyd gedoen. ”

Dit is nie streng waar nie. Twintig jaar gelede volgende jaar het 'n pyprookende, gesnorste skaapboer genaamd José Bové 'n halfgeboude McDonald's in Millau in die suide van Frankryk op 'n beroemde manier ontmantel met 'n groep kleinboere en oud-hippies wat 'n nasionale kruistog begin het. la malbouffe - gemorskos.

Maar nou hou Frankryk van hamburgers: 'n opname wat vroeër vanjaar deur die konsultant Gira Conseil gepubliseer is, het getoon dat die land se 66 miljoen mense 1,46 miljard daarvan in 2017 verbruik het - byna 10% meer as die vorige jaar. Miskien merkwaardiger is dat burgers nou op die spyskaarte van 85% van die Franse restaurante verskyn. Nie dat jy hulle sou bel nie malbouffe. By L'Artisan du Burger in die rue du Faubourg Poissonnière kos burgers met bestanddele, insluitend roket, limoenskil, reblochon-kaas, rooi uie en 'n gerookte speserye-sous € 12 (meer as u dit wil hê in 'n inkvis-broodjie bedek met nigella of swart komynsaad).

'Dit is nou deel van ons nasionale kookkuns', het Sara Vérier, 'n bankwerker en gereeld restaurantbesoeker, gesê. 'Byna elke plek - selfs sommige wat baie slim is - doen minstens een. Jy kry lekker Franse aanraking: 'n skyfie foie gras, roquefort. Soms selfs truffels. ”

Bernard Boutboul, besturende direkteur van Gira Conseil, beskryf die oënskynlik onstuitbare opkoms van die burger in Frankryk as '' 'n euforie, 'n gier '' wat nou begin raak het op '' histerie '', met spoggerige burgers wat Franse bistro -klassieke soos eendbors en boeuf bourguignon in die buiteland verkoop baie restaurante.

Tog is die oorgrote meerderheid van die burgers wat in Frankryk verbruik word - 70% - verre van kitskos. Hulle word geëet terwyl hulle aan 'n tafel sit, met (dikwels) 'n glas wyn, in 'n 'regte' restaurant. Dit beteken nie dat die tuiste van die haute cuisine nie vir kitskos geval het nie: dit het. Franse eetgewoontes verander.

Toenemende tydsdruk (nie meer twee-uur-middagete nie, die gemiddelde Franse werker neem volgens 'n opname nou 'n breuk van 31 minute) en die opkoms van tuisafleweringsdienste soos Deliveroo en UberEats het die kitskosbedryf in die land gesien. eksponensieel uit te brei.

Frankryk se 32 000 kitskoswinkels het verlede jaar ongeveer € 51 miljard verkoop-6% meer as in 2016, 13% meer as vier jaar gelede, en byna drie keer soveel as in 2005. Boonop verteenwoordig hulle nou 60% van die totale Franse restaurant besigheid.

Kitskos "beteken nie noodwendig dat jy nie lekker eet nie," sê Josiane Bouvier, 'n onderwyser in aardrykskunde, afkomstig uit Nous, 'n organiese wegneemete in die rue du Châteaudun, met 'n frans-klinkende "hotbox" van gegrilde hoender, munt jogurt sous, seisoenslaai en volgraanrys. 'Ek dink baie Franse mense wat selfs na kitskosplekke gaan, is baie bewus van die kwaliteit van die bestanddele en of daar werklik geregte op die perseel gemaak word,' het sy gesê. 'Maar dit is as u nege, 10 of 12 euro vir middagete kan bekostig.

En daar is die ding. Goeie kos is nie meer goedkoop in Frankryk nie - in restaurante of tuis. Die voedselverwerkings- en verspreidingsondernemings in die land is groot en kragtig. Franse eetgewoontes, sê die nasionale voedselagentskap Anses, is nie meer 'n model nie: nou behels dit meer en meer hoogs verwerkte voedsel, te veel sout en nie genoeg vesel nie.

Frankryk is verre van immuun teenoor sy besondere verhouding tot voedsel la malbouffe. Parlementslede het verlede week berig dat tot 30 miljoen Franse, hoofsaaklik in huishoudings met 'n laer inkomste, teen 2030 vetsugtig of oorgewig sal wees, tensy groot voedselondernemings sout, suiker, vet en ander bymiddels en kinders opvoed om meer gesond te eet.

"Franse gesinne bestee minder geld en minder tyd aan hul kos as ooit tevore," het 'n LP, Loïc Prud'homme, gesê. 'Ons moet die beheer oor ons borde terugneem.'

'N Ander, Michèle Crouzet, wat hom vir minder sout in voedsel beywer het, was blunder. Die Franse “sterf nie te veel kos nie”, het sy gesê, “maar bietjie vir bietjie maak die kos wat ons eet ons dood.”


Van escargots tot le Big Mac: hoe die land van haute cuisine vir kitskos geval het

Franse kos: so goed dat die wyse hoofde van Unesco dit as deel van die wêreld se ontasbare kulturele erfenis verklaar het, so gevier dat die liefde daarvan 'n nasie bepaal het.

'Vertel my wat u eet, en ek sal u vertel wat u is', soos die oorspronklike eter, die gastronom Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, dit in 1825 gestel het. En hy was iemand wat ongetwyfeld sy lentilles vertes du puy et kaviaar van sy langoustines à la nage en sy poulette du perche uit sy poitrine de grive.

Frankryk se eetgewoontes - en nie net in restaurante nie - was jare lank 'n voorbeeld: porsies beheer baie basiese beginsels (eiers, botter, brood, aartappels) min verwerkte of kitskos, baie vis, vrugte, plantaardige olies en (natuurlik) vol vet suiwel gestruktureerde, gesellige, gesinsgerigte maaltye. Franse vroue word immers nie vet nie.

Dus, waarom het 'n nuwe verslag verlede week voorgestel dat 30 miljoen mense - byna die helfte van die land se bevolking - teen 2030 vetsugtig kan wees? En hoekom, op 'n sonnige middagete vroeg in die herfs, is daar 'n tou buite McDonald's-een van 1.440 in Frankryk, die tweede grootste wêreldmark van die ketting-aan die Boulevard des Italiens in die sentrale Parys?

'Ek kan nie glo dat u dit vra nie,' sê Stephane Loiseau, 'n 29-jarige rekeningbestuurder wat op sy bestelling tik-en CBO”(Hoender, spek, ui) met patat - in die raakskerm. 'Dit is so 'n cliché. Hulle is goedkoop, vinnig, gebruik goeie bestanddele. Waarom moet die Franse verskil van die res van die wêreld? ”

Natalie Girardot, 'n verkoopsassistent by 'n juwelierswinkel in die omgewing, was ewe afwysend. 'Weet u dat hulle alle Franse bestanddele gebruik?' sê sy en wys na haar skinkbord. 'Kyk: Charolais -beesvleis, fourme d'Ambert -kaas bo -op. Plus 'n behoorlike vinaigrette. Frankryk hou van McDonald's. Dit het nog altyd gedoen. ”

Dit is nie streng waar nie. Twintig jaar gelede volgende jaar het 'n pyprookende, gesnorste skaapboer genaamd José Bové 'n halfgeboude McDonald's in Millau in die suide van Frankryk op 'n beroemde manier ontmantel met 'n groep kleinboere en oud-hippies wat 'n nasionale kruistog begin het. la malbouffe - gemorskos.

Maar nou hou Frankryk van hamburgers: 'n opname wat vroeër vanjaar deur die konsultant Gira Conseil gepubliseer is, het getoon dat die land se 66 miljoen mense 1,46 miljard daarvan in 2017 verbruik het - byna 10% meer as die vorige jaar. Miskien merkwaardiger is dat burgers nou op die spyskaarte van 85% van die Franse restaurante verskyn. Nie dat jy hulle sou bel nie malbouffe. By L'Artisan du Burger in die rue du Faubourg Poissonnière kos burgers met bestanddele, insluitend roket, limoenskil, reblochon-kaas, rooi uie en 'n gerookte speserye-sous € 12 (meer as u dit wil hê in 'n inkvis-broodjie bedek met nigella of swart komynsaad).

'Hulle is nou deel van ons nasionale kookkuns', het Sara Vérier, 'n bankwerker en gereeld restaurantbesoeker, gesê. 'Byna elke plek - selfs sommige wat baie slim is - doen minstens een. Jy kry lekker Franse aanraking: 'n skyfie foie gras, roquefort. Soms selfs truffels. ”

Bernard Boutboul, besturende direkteur van Gira Conseil, beskryf die oënskynlik onstuitbare opkoms van die burger in Frankryk as '' 'n euforie, 'n gier '' wat nou begin raak het op '' histerie '', met spoggerige burgers wat Franse bistro -klassieke soos eendbors en boeuf bourguignon in die buiteland verkoop baie restaurante.

Tog is die oorgrote meerderheid van die burgers wat in Frankryk verbruik word - 70% - verreweg van kitskos. Hulle word geëet terwyl hulle aan 'n tafel sit, met (dikwels) 'n glas wyn, in 'n 'regte' restaurant. Dit beteken nie dat die tuiste van die haute cuisine nie vir kitskos geval het nie: dit het. Franse eetgewoontes verander.

Toenemende tydsdruk (nie meer twee-uur-middagete nie, die gemiddelde Franse werker neem volgens 'n peiling nou 'n breuk van 31 minute) en die opkoms van tuisafleweringsdienste soos Deliveroo en UberEats het die kitskosbedryf in die land gesien. eksponensieel uitbrei.

Frankryk se 32 000 kitskoswinkels het verlede jaar ongeveer € 51 miljard verkoop-6% meer as in 2016, 13% meer as vier jaar gelede, en byna drie keer soveel as in 2005. Boonop verteenwoordig hulle nou 60% van die totale Franse restaurant besigheid.

Kitskos "beteken nie noodwendig dat jy nie lekker eet nie," sê Josiane Bouvier, 'n onderwyser in aardrykskunde, afkomstig uit Nous, 'n organiese wegneemete in die rue du Châteaudun, met 'n frans-klinkende 'hotbox' van gegrilde hoender, munt jogurt sous, seisoenslaai en volgraanrys. 'Ek dink baie Franse mense wat selfs na kitskosplekke gaan, is baie bewus van die kwaliteit van die bestanddele en of daar werklik geregte op die perseel gemaak word,' het sy gesê. 'Maar dit is as u nege, 10 of 12 euro vir middagete kan bekostig.

En daar is die ding. Goeie kos is nie meer goedkoop in Frankryk nie - in restaurante of tuis. Die voedselverwerkings- en verspreidingsondernemings in die land is groot en kragtig. Franse eetgewoontes, sê die nasionale voedselagentskap Anses, is nie meer 'n model nie: nou behels dit meer en meer hoogs verwerkte voedsel, te veel sout en nie genoeg vesel nie.

Frankryk is verre van immuun teenoor sy besondere verhouding tot voedsel la malbouffe. Parlementslede het verlede week berig dat soveel as 30 miljoen Franse, hoofsaaklik in huishoudings met 'n laer inkomste, teen 2030 vetsugtig of oorgewig sal wees, tensy groot voedselondernemings sout, suiker, vet en ander bymiddels en kinders opvoed om meer gesond te eet.

"Franse gesinne bestee minder geld en minder tyd aan hul kos as ooit tevore," het 'n LP, Loïc Prud'homme, gesê. 'Ons moet die beheer oor ons borde terugneem.'

'N Ander, Michèle Crouzet, wat hom vir minder sout in voedsel beywer het, was blunder. Die Franse “sterf nie aan te veel kos nie”, het sy gesê, “maar die kos wat ons eet, maak ons ​​geleidelik dood.”


Van escargots tot le Big Mac: hoe die land van haute cuisine vir kitskos geval het

Franse kos: so goed dat die wyse hoofde van Unesco dit as deel van die wêreld se ontasbare kulturele erfenis verklaar het, so gevier dat die liefde daarvan 'n nasie bepaal het.

'Vertel my wat u eet, en ek sal u vertel wat u is', soos die oorspronklike eter, die gastronoom Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, dit in 1825 gestel het. En hy was iemand wat ongetwyfeld sy lentilles vertes du puy et kaviaar van sy langoustines à la nage en sy poulette du perche uit sy poitrine de grive.

Frankryk se eetgewoontes - en nie net in restaurante nie - was jare lank 'n voorbeeld: porsies beheer baie basiese beginsels (eiers, botter, brood, aartappels) min verwerkte of kitskos, baie vis, vrugte, plantaardige olies en (natuurlik) vol vet suiwel gestruktureerde, gesellige, gesinsgerigte maaltye. Franse vroue word immers nie vet nie.

Dus, waarom het 'n nuwe verslag verlede week voorgestel dat 30 miljoen mense - byna die helfte van die land se bevolking - teen 2030 vetsugtig kan wees? En hoekom, op 'n sonnige middagete vroeg in die herfs, is daar 'n tou buite McDonald's-een van 1.440 in Frankryk, die tweede grootste wêreldmark van die ketting-aan die Boulevard des Italiens in die sentrale Parys?

'Ek kan nie glo dat u dit vra nie,' sê Stephane Loiseau, 'n 29-jarige rekeningbestuurder wat op sy bestelling tik-en CBO”(Hoender, spek, ui) met patat - in die raakskerm. 'Dit is so 'n cliché. Hulle is goedkoop, vinnig, gebruik goeie bestanddele. Waarom moet die Franse anders wees as die res van die wêreld? ”

Natalie Girardot, 'n verkoopsassistent by 'n juwelierswinkel in die omgewing, was ewe afwysend. 'Weet u dat hulle alle Franse bestanddele gebruik?' sê sy en wys na haar skinkbord. 'Kyk: Charolais -beesvleis, fourme d'Ambert -kaas bo -op. Plus 'n behoorlike vinaigrette. Frankryk hou van McDonald's. Dit het nog altyd gedoen. ”

Dit is nie streng waar nie. Twintig jaar gelede volgende jaar het 'n pyprookende, gesnorste skaapboer genaamd José Bové 'n halfgeboude McDonald's in Millau in die suide van Frankryk op 'n beroemde manier ontmantel met 'n groep kleinboere en oud-hippies wat 'n nasionale kruistog begin het. la malbouffe - gemorskos.

Maar nou hou Frankryk van hamburgers: 'n opname wat vroeër vanjaar deur die konsultant Gira Conseil gepubliseer is, het getoon dat die land se 66 miljoen mense 1,46 miljard daarvan in 2017 verbruik het - byna 10% meer as die vorige jaar. Miskien merkwaardiger is dat burgers nou op die spyskaarte van 85% van die Franse restaurante verskyn. Nie dat jy hulle sou bel nie malbouffe. By L'Artisan du Burger in die rue du Faubourg Poissonnière kos burgers met bestanddele, insluitend roket, limoenskil, reblochon-kaas, rooi uie en 'n gerookte speserye-sous € 12 (meer as u dit wil hê in 'n inkvis-broodjie bedek met nigella of swart komynsaad).

'Hulle is nou deel van ons nasionale kookkuns', het Sara Vérier, 'n bankwerker en gereeld restaurantbesoeker, gesê. 'Byna elke plek - selfs sommige wat baie slim is - doen minstens een. Jy kry lekker Franse aanraking: 'n skyfie foie gras, roquefort. Soms selfs truffels. ”

Bernard Boutboul, besturende direkteur van Gira Conseil, beskryf die oënskynlik onstuitbare opkoms van die burger in Frankryk as '' 'n euforie, 'n gier '' wat nou begin raak het op '' histerie '', met spoggerige burgers wat Franse bistro -klassieke soos eendbors en boeuf bourguignon in die buiteland verkoop baie restaurante.

Tog is die oorgrote meerderheid van die burgers wat in Frankryk verbruik word - 70% - verreweg van kitskos. Hulle word geëet terwyl hulle aan 'n tafel sit, met (dikwels) 'n glas wyn, in 'n 'regte' restaurant. Dit beteken nie dat die tuiste van die haute cuisine nie vir kitskos geval het nie: dit het. Franse eetgewoontes verander.

Toenemende tydsdruk (nie meer twee-uur-middagete nie, die gemiddelde Franse werker neem volgens 'n opname nou 'n breuk van 31 minute) en die opkoms van tuisafleweringsdienste soos Deliveroo en UberEats het die kitskosbedryf in die land gesien. eksponensieel uit te brei.

Frankryk se 32 000 kitskoswinkels het verlede jaar ongeveer € 51 miljard verkoop-6% meer as in 2016, 13% meer as vier jaar gelede, en byna drie keer soveel as in 2005. Boonop verteenwoordig hulle nou 60% van die totale Franse restaurant besigheid.

Kitskos "beteken nie noodwendig dat jy nie lekker eet nie," sê Josiane Bouvier, 'n onderwyser in aardrykskunde, afkomstig uit Nous, 'n organiese wegneemete in die rue du Châteaudun, met 'n frans-klinkende 'hotbox' van gegrilde hoender, munt jogurt sous, seisoenslaai en volgraanrys. 'Ek dink baie Franse mense wat selfs na kitskosplekke gaan, is baie bewus van die kwaliteit van die bestanddele en of daar werklik geregte op die perseel gemaak word,' het sy gesê. 'Maar dit is as u nege, 10 of 12 euro vir middagete kan bekostig.

En daar is die ding. Goeie kos is nie meer goedkoop in Frankryk nie - in restaurante of tuis. Die voedselverwerkings- en verspreidingsondernemings in die land is groot en kragtig. Franse eetgewoontes, sê die nasionale voedselagentskap Anses, is nie meer 'n model nie: nou behels dit meer en meer hoogs verwerkte voedsel, te veel sout en nie genoeg vesel nie.

Frankryk is verre van immuun teenoor sy besondere verhouding tot voedsel la malbouffe. Parlementslede het verlede week berig dat tot 30 miljoen Franse, hoofsaaklik in huishoudings met 'n laer inkomste, teen 2030 vetsugtig of oorgewig sal wees, tensy groot voedselondernemings sout, suiker, vet en ander bymiddels en kinders opvoed om meer gesond te eet.

"Franse gesinne bestee minder geld en minder tyd aan hul kos as ooit tevore," het 'n LP, Loïc Prud'homme, gesê. 'Ons moet die beheer oor ons borde terugneem.'

'N Ander, Michèle Crouzet, wat hom vir minder sout in voedsel beywer het, was blunder. Die Franse “sterf nie aan te veel kos nie”, het sy gesê, “maar die kos wat ons eet, maak ons ​​geleidelik dood.”


Van escargots tot le Big Mac: hoe die land van haute cuisine vir kitskos geval het

Franse kos: so goed dat die wyse hoofde van Unesco dit as deel van die wêreld se ontasbare kulturele erfenis verklaar het, so gevier dat die liefde daarvan 'n nasie bepaal het.

'Vertel my wat u eet, en ek sal u vertel wat u is', soos die oorspronklike eter, die gastronoom Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, dit in 1825 gestel het. En hy was iemand wat ongetwyfeld sy lentilles vertes du puy et kaviaar van sy langoustines à la nage en sy poulette du perche uit sy poitrine de grive.

Frankryk se eetgewoontes - en nie net in restaurante nie - was jare lank 'n voorbeeld: porsies beheer baie basiese beginsels (eiers, botter, brood, aartappels) min verwerkte of kitskos, baie vis, vrugte, plantaardige olies en (natuurlik) vol vet suiwel gestruktureerde, gesellige, gesinsgerigte maaltye. Franse vroue word immers nie vet nie.

Dus, waarom het 'n nuwe verslag verlede week voorgestel dat 30 miljoen mense - byna die helfte van die land se bevolking - teen 2030 vetsugtig kan wees? En hoekom, op 'n sonnige middagete vroeg in die herfs, is daar 'n tou buite McDonald's-een van 1.440 in Frankryk, die tweede grootste wêreldmark van die ketting-aan die Boulevard des Italiens in die sentrale Parys?

'Ek kan nie glo dat u dit vra nie,' sê Stephane Loiseau, 'n 29-jarige rekeningbestuurder wat op sy bestelling tik-en CBO”(Hoender, spek, ui) met patat - in die raakskerm. 'Dit is so 'n cliché. Hulle is goedkoop, vinnig, gebruik goeie bestanddele. Waarom moet die Franse anders wees as die res van die wêreld? ”

Natalie Girardot, 'n verkoopsassistent by 'n juwelierswinkel in die omgewing, was ewe afwysend. 'Weet u dat hulle alle Franse bestanddele gebruik?' sê sy en wys na haar skinkbord. 'Kyk: Charolais -beesvleis, fourme d'Ambert -kaas bo -op. Plus 'n behoorlike vinaigrette. Frankryk hou van McDonald's. Dit het nog altyd gedoen. ”

Dit is nie streng waar nie. Twintig jaar gelede volgende jaar het 'n pyprookende, gesnorste skaapboer genaamd José Bové 'n halfgeboude McDonald's in Millau in die suide van Frankryk op 'n beroemde manier ontmantel met 'n groep kleinboere en oud-hippies wat 'n nasionale kruistog begin het. la malbouffe - gemorskos.

Maar nou hou Frankryk van hamburgers: 'n opname wat vroeër vanjaar deur die konsultant Gira Conseil gepubliseer is, het getoon dat die land se 66 miljoen mense 1,46 miljard daarvan in 2017 verbruik het - byna 10% meer as die vorige jaar. Miskien merkwaardiger is dat burgers nou op die spyskaarte van 85% van die Franse restaurante verskyn. Nie dat jy hulle sou bel nie malbouffe. By L'Artisan du Burger in die rue du Faubourg Poissonnière kos burgers met bestanddele, insluitend roket, limoenskil, reblochon-kaas, rooi uie en 'n gerookte speserye-sous € 12 (meer as u dit wil hê in 'n inkvis-broodjie bedek met nigella of swart komynsaad).

'Dit is nou deel van ons nasionale kookkuns', het Sara Vérier, 'n bankwerker en gereeld restaurantbesoeker, gesê. 'Byna elke plek - selfs sommige wat baie slim is - doen minstens een. Jy kry lekker Franse aanraking: 'n skyfie foie gras, roquefort. Soms selfs truffels. ”

Bernard Boutboul, besturende direkteur van Gira Conseil, beskryf die oënskynlik onstuitbare opkoms van die burger in Frankryk as '' 'n euforie, 'n gier '' wat nou begin raak het op '' histerie '', met spoggerige burgers wat Franse bistro -klassieke soos eendbors en boeuf bourguignon in die buiteland verkoop baie restaurante.

Tog is die oorgrote meerderheid van die burgers wat in Frankryk verbruik word - 70% - verreweg van kitskos. Hulle word geëet terwyl hulle aan 'n tafel sit, met (dikwels) 'n glas wyn, in 'n 'regte' restaurant. Dit beteken nie dat die tuiste van die haute cuisine nie vir kitskos geval het nie: dit het. Franse eetgewoontes verander.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


From escargots to le Big Mac: how the land of haute cuisine fell for fast food

French food: so good that the wise heads at Unesco declared it part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage, so celebrated that the love of it defined a nation.

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” as the original foodie, the gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, put it in 1825. And he was somebody who undoubtedly knew his lentilles vertes du puy et caviar from his langoustines à la nage and his poulette du perche from his poitrine de grive.

For years, France’s eating habits – and not just in restaurants – have been a model: portion control lots of basics (eggs, butter, bread, potatoes) little processed or fast foods plenty of fish, fruit, vegetable oils and (of course) full-fat dairy structured, convivial, family-centred meals. French women, after all, do not get fat.

So why, last week, did a new report suggest that 30 million people – nearly half the country’s population – could be obese by 2030? And how come, on a sunny lunchtime in early autumn, there is a queue outside McDonald’s – one of 1,440 in France, the chain’s second-biggest global market – on the Boulevard des Italiens in central Paris?

“I can’t believe you’re asking this,” said Stephane Loiseau, a 29-year-old account manager tapping his order – “un CBO” (chicken, bacon, onion) with fries – into the touchscreen. “It’s such a cliché. They’re cheap, they’re fast, they use pretty OK ingredients. Why should the French be any different from the rest of the world?”

Natalie Girardot, a sales assistant at a nearby jeweller’s store, was equally dismissive. “You know they use all-French ingredients?” she said, pointing at her tray. “Look: Charolais beef, fourme d’Ambert cheese on the top. Plus a proper vinaigrette. France loves McDonald’s. It always has done.”

That’s not strictly true. Twenty years ago next year, a pipe-smoking, mustachioed sheep farmer called José Bové famously dismantled a half-built McDonald’s at Millau in southern France with a group of fellow smallholders and ex-hippies, launching a national crusade against la malbouffe – junk food.

But now France loves burgers: a survey published earlier this year by consultancy Gira Conseil showed the country’s 66 million people consumed 1.46 billion of them in 2017 – nearly 10% more than the previous year. Perhaps more remarkably, burgers now feature on the menus of 85% of French restaurants. Not that you’d call them malbouffe. At L’Artisan du Burger on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, burgers with ingredients including rocket, lime zest, reblochon cheese, compote of red onions and a smoked spice sauce cost €12 (more if you want them in a squid-ink bun topped with nigella or black cumin seeds).

“They’re part of our national cuisine now,” said Sara Vérier, a bank worker and frequent restaurant-goer. “Almost every place – even some really quite smart ones – does at least one. You get nice French touches: a wedge of foie gras, roquefort. Sometimes even truffles.”

Bernard Boutboul, Gira Conseil’s managing director, describes the burger’s seemingly unstoppable rise in France as “a euphoria, a craze” that has now started to verge on “hysteria”, with posh burgers outselling French bistro classics such as duck breast and boeuf bourguignon in many restaurants.

Yet the vast majority of burgers consumed in France – 70% – are far from fast food. They are eaten sitting at a table, with (often) a glass of wine, in a “proper” restaurant. Which does not mean the home of haute cuisine has not fallen for fast food: it has. French eating habits are changing.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


From escargots to le Big Mac: how the land of haute cuisine fell for fast food

French food: so good that the wise heads at Unesco declared it part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage, so celebrated that the love of it defined a nation.

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” as the original foodie, the gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, put it in 1825. And he was somebody who undoubtedly knew his lentilles vertes du puy et caviar from his langoustines à la nage and his poulette du perche from his poitrine de grive.

For years, France’s eating habits – and not just in restaurants – have been a model: portion control lots of basics (eggs, butter, bread, potatoes) little processed or fast foods plenty of fish, fruit, vegetable oils and (of course) full-fat dairy structured, convivial, family-centred meals. French women, after all, do not get fat.

So why, last week, did a new report suggest that 30 million people – nearly half the country’s population – could be obese by 2030? And how come, on a sunny lunchtime in early autumn, there is a queue outside McDonald’s – one of 1,440 in France, the chain’s second-biggest global market – on the Boulevard des Italiens in central Paris?

“I can’t believe you’re asking this,” said Stephane Loiseau, a 29-year-old account manager tapping his order – “un CBO” (chicken, bacon, onion) with fries – into the touchscreen. “It’s such a cliché. They’re cheap, they’re fast, they use pretty OK ingredients. Why should the French be any different from the rest of the world?”

Natalie Girardot, a sales assistant at a nearby jeweller’s store, was equally dismissive. “You know they use all-French ingredients?” she said, pointing at her tray. “Look: Charolais beef, fourme d’Ambert cheese on the top. Plus a proper vinaigrette. France loves McDonald’s. It always has done.”

That’s not strictly true. Twenty years ago next year, a pipe-smoking, mustachioed sheep farmer called José Bové famously dismantled a half-built McDonald’s at Millau in southern France with a group of fellow smallholders and ex-hippies, launching a national crusade against la malbouffe – junk food.

But now France loves burgers: a survey published earlier this year by consultancy Gira Conseil showed the country’s 66 million people consumed 1.46 billion of them in 2017 – nearly 10% more than the previous year. Perhaps more remarkably, burgers now feature on the menus of 85% of French restaurants. Not that you’d call them malbouffe. At L’Artisan du Burger on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, burgers with ingredients including rocket, lime zest, reblochon cheese, compote of red onions and a smoked spice sauce cost €12 (more if you want them in a squid-ink bun topped with nigella or black cumin seeds).

“They’re part of our national cuisine now,” said Sara Vérier, a bank worker and frequent restaurant-goer. “Almost every place – even some really quite smart ones – does at least one. You get nice French touches: a wedge of foie gras, roquefort. Sometimes even truffles.”

Bernard Boutboul, Gira Conseil’s managing director, describes the burger’s seemingly unstoppable rise in France as “a euphoria, a craze” that has now started to verge on “hysteria”, with posh burgers outselling French bistro classics such as duck breast and boeuf bourguignon in many restaurants.

Yet the vast majority of burgers consumed in France – 70% – are far from fast food. They are eaten sitting at a table, with (often) a glass of wine, in a “proper” restaurant. Which does not mean the home of haute cuisine has not fallen for fast food: it has. French eating habits are changing.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


From escargots to le Big Mac: how the land of haute cuisine fell for fast food

French food: so good that the wise heads at Unesco declared it part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage, so celebrated that the love of it defined a nation.

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” as the original foodie, the gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, put it in 1825. And he was somebody who undoubtedly knew his lentilles vertes du puy et caviar from his langoustines à la nage and his poulette du perche from his poitrine de grive.

For years, France’s eating habits – and not just in restaurants – have been a model: portion control lots of basics (eggs, butter, bread, potatoes) little processed or fast foods plenty of fish, fruit, vegetable oils and (of course) full-fat dairy structured, convivial, family-centred meals. French women, after all, do not get fat.

So why, last week, did a new report suggest that 30 million people – nearly half the country’s population – could be obese by 2030? And how come, on a sunny lunchtime in early autumn, there is a queue outside McDonald’s – one of 1,440 in France, the chain’s second-biggest global market – on the Boulevard des Italiens in central Paris?

“I can’t believe you’re asking this,” said Stephane Loiseau, a 29-year-old account manager tapping his order – “un CBO” (chicken, bacon, onion) with fries – into the touchscreen. “It’s such a cliché. They’re cheap, they’re fast, they use pretty OK ingredients. Why should the French be any different from the rest of the world?”

Natalie Girardot, a sales assistant at a nearby jeweller’s store, was equally dismissive. “You know they use all-French ingredients?” she said, pointing at her tray. “Look: Charolais beef, fourme d’Ambert cheese on the top. Plus a proper vinaigrette. France loves McDonald’s. It always has done.”

That’s not strictly true. Twenty years ago next year, a pipe-smoking, mustachioed sheep farmer called José Bové famously dismantled a half-built McDonald’s at Millau in southern France with a group of fellow smallholders and ex-hippies, launching a national crusade against la malbouffe – junk food.

But now France loves burgers: a survey published earlier this year by consultancy Gira Conseil showed the country’s 66 million people consumed 1.46 billion of them in 2017 – nearly 10% more than the previous year. Perhaps more remarkably, burgers now feature on the menus of 85% of French restaurants. Not that you’d call them malbouffe. At L’Artisan du Burger on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, burgers with ingredients including rocket, lime zest, reblochon cheese, compote of red onions and a smoked spice sauce cost €12 (more if you want them in a squid-ink bun topped with nigella or black cumin seeds).

“They’re part of our national cuisine now,” said Sara Vérier, a bank worker and frequent restaurant-goer. “Almost every place – even some really quite smart ones – does at least one. You get nice French touches: a wedge of foie gras, roquefort. Sometimes even truffles.”

Bernard Boutboul, Gira Conseil’s managing director, describes the burger’s seemingly unstoppable rise in France as “a euphoria, a craze” that has now started to verge on “hysteria”, with posh burgers outselling French bistro classics such as duck breast and boeuf bourguignon in many restaurants.

Yet the vast majority of burgers consumed in France – 70% – are far from fast food. They are eaten sitting at a table, with (often) a glass of wine, in a “proper” restaurant. Which does not mean the home of haute cuisine has not fallen for fast food: it has. French eating habits are changing.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


From escargots to le Big Mac: how the land of haute cuisine fell for fast food

French food: so good that the wise heads at Unesco declared it part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage, so celebrated that the love of it defined a nation.

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” as the original foodie, the gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, put it in 1825. And he was somebody who undoubtedly knew his lentilles vertes du puy et caviar from his langoustines à la nage and his poulette du perche from his poitrine de grive.

For years, France’s eating habits – and not just in restaurants – have been a model: portion control lots of basics (eggs, butter, bread, potatoes) little processed or fast foods plenty of fish, fruit, vegetable oils and (of course) full-fat dairy structured, convivial, family-centred meals. French women, after all, do not get fat.

So why, last week, did a new report suggest that 30 million people – nearly half the country’s population – could be obese by 2030? And how come, on a sunny lunchtime in early autumn, there is a queue outside McDonald’s – one of 1,440 in France, the chain’s second-biggest global market – on the Boulevard des Italiens in central Paris?

“I can’t believe you’re asking this,” said Stephane Loiseau, a 29-year-old account manager tapping his order – “un CBO” (chicken, bacon, onion) with fries – into the touchscreen. “It’s such a cliché. They’re cheap, they’re fast, they use pretty OK ingredients. Why should the French be any different from the rest of the world?”

Natalie Girardot, a sales assistant at a nearby jeweller’s store, was equally dismissive. “You know they use all-French ingredients?” she said, pointing at her tray. “Look: Charolais beef, fourme d’Ambert cheese on the top. Plus a proper vinaigrette. France loves McDonald’s. It always has done.”

That’s not strictly true. Twenty years ago next year, a pipe-smoking, mustachioed sheep farmer called José Bové famously dismantled a half-built McDonald’s at Millau in southern France with a group of fellow smallholders and ex-hippies, launching a national crusade against la malbouffe – junk food.

But now France loves burgers: a survey published earlier this year by consultancy Gira Conseil showed the country’s 66 million people consumed 1.46 billion of them in 2017 – nearly 10% more than the previous year. Perhaps more remarkably, burgers now feature on the menus of 85% of French restaurants. Not that you’d call them malbouffe. At L’Artisan du Burger on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, burgers with ingredients including rocket, lime zest, reblochon cheese, compote of red onions and a smoked spice sauce cost €12 (more if you want them in a squid-ink bun topped with nigella or black cumin seeds).

“They’re part of our national cuisine now,” said Sara Vérier, a bank worker and frequent restaurant-goer. “Almost every place – even some really quite smart ones – does at least one. You get nice French touches: a wedge of foie gras, roquefort. Sometimes even truffles.”

Bernard Boutboul, Gira Conseil’s managing director, describes the burger’s seemingly unstoppable rise in France as “a euphoria, a craze” that has now started to verge on “hysteria”, with posh burgers outselling French bistro classics such as duck breast and boeuf bourguignon in many restaurants.

Yet the vast majority of burgers consumed in France – 70% – are far from fast food. They are eaten sitting at a table, with (often) a glass of wine, in a “proper” restaurant. Which does not mean the home of haute cuisine has not fallen for fast food: it has. French eating habits are changing.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


From escargots to le Big Mac: how the land of haute cuisine fell for fast food

French food: so good that the wise heads at Unesco declared it part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage, so celebrated that the love of it defined a nation.

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” as the original foodie, the gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, put it in 1825. And he was somebody who undoubtedly knew his lentilles vertes du puy et caviar from his langoustines à la nage and his poulette du perche from his poitrine de grive.

For years, France’s eating habits – and not just in restaurants – have been a model: portion control lots of basics (eggs, butter, bread, potatoes) little processed or fast foods plenty of fish, fruit, vegetable oils and (of course) full-fat dairy structured, convivial, family-centred meals. French women, after all, do not get fat.

So why, last week, did a new report suggest that 30 million people – nearly half the country’s population – could be obese by 2030? And how come, on a sunny lunchtime in early autumn, there is a queue outside McDonald’s – one of 1,440 in France, the chain’s second-biggest global market – on the Boulevard des Italiens in central Paris?

“I can’t believe you’re asking this,” said Stephane Loiseau, a 29-year-old account manager tapping his order – “un CBO” (chicken, bacon, onion) with fries – into the touchscreen. “It’s such a cliché. They’re cheap, they’re fast, they use pretty OK ingredients. Why should the French be any different from the rest of the world?”

Natalie Girardot, a sales assistant at a nearby jeweller’s store, was equally dismissive. “You know they use all-French ingredients?” she said, pointing at her tray. “Look: Charolais beef, fourme d’Ambert cheese on the top. Plus a proper vinaigrette. France loves McDonald’s. It always has done.”

That’s not strictly true. Twenty years ago next year, a pipe-smoking, mustachioed sheep farmer called José Bové famously dismantled a half-built McDonald’s at Millau in southern France with a group of fellow smallholders and ex-hippies, launching a national crusade against la malbouffe – junk food.

But now France loves burgers: a survey published earlier this year by consultancy Gira Conseil showed the country’s 66 million people consumed 1.46 billion of them in 2017 – nearly 10% more than the previous year. Perhaps more remarkably, burgers now feature on the menus of 85% of French restaurants. Not that you’d call them malbouffe. At L’Artisan du Burger on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, burgers with ingredients including rocket, lime zest, reblochon cheese, compote of red onions and a smoked spice sauce cost €12 (more if you want them in a squid-ink bun topped with nigella or black cumin seeds).

“They’re part of our national cuisine now,” said Sara Vérier, a bank worker and frequent restaurant-goer. “Almost every place – even some really quite smart ones – does at least one. You get nice French touches: a wedge of foie gras, roquefort. Sometimes even truffles.”

Bernard Boutboul, Gira Conseil’s managing director, describes the burger’s seemingly unstoppable rise in France as “a euphoria, a craze” that has now started to verge on “hysteria”, with posh burgers outselling French bistro classics such as duck breast and boeuf bourguignon in many restaurants.

Yet the vast majority of burgers consumed in France – 70% – are far from fast food. They are eaten sitting at a table, with (often) a glass of wine, in a “proper” restaurant. Which does not mean the home of haute cuisine has not fallen for fast food: it has. French eating habits are changing.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


From escargots to le Big Mac: how the land of haute cuisine fell for fast food

French food: so good that the wise heads at Unesco declared it part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage, so celebrated that the love of it defined a nation.

“Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are,” as the original foodie, the gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, put it in 1825. And he was somebody who undoubtedly knew his lentilles vertes du puy et caviar from his langoustines à la nage and his poulette du perche from his poitrine de grive.

For years, France’s eating habits – and not just in restaurants – have been a model: portion control lots of basics (eggs, butter, bread, potatoes) little processed or fast foods plenty of fish, fruit, vegetable oils and (of course) full-fat dairy structured, convivial, family-centred meals. French women, after all, do not get fat.

So why, last week, did a new report suggest that 30 million people – nearly half the country’s population – could be obese by 2030? And how come, on a sunny lunchtime in early autumn, there is a queue outside McDonald’s – one of 1,440 in France, the chain’s second-biggest global market – on the Boulevard des Italiens in central Paris?

“I can’t believe you’re asking this,” said Stephane Loiseau, a 29-year-old account manager tapping his order – “un CBO” (chicken, bacon, onion) with fries – into the touchscreen. “It’s such a cliché. They’re cheap, they’re fast, they use pretty OK ingredients. Why should the French be any different from the rest of the world?”

Natalie Girardot, a sales assistant at a nearby jeweller’s store, was equally dismissive. “You know they use all-French ingredients?” she said, pointing at her tray. “Look: Charolais beef, fourme d’Ambert cheese on the top. Plus a proper vinaigrette. France loves McDonald’s. It always has done.”

That’s not strictly true. Twenty years ago next year, a pipe-smoking, mustachioed sheep farmer called José Bové famously dismantled a half-built McDonald’s at Millau in southern France with a group of fellow smallholders and ex-hippies, launching a national crusade against la malbouffe – junk food.

But now France loves burgers: a survey published earlier this year by consultancy Gira Conseil showed the country’s 66 million people consumed 1.46 billion of them in 2017 – nearly 10% more than the previous year. Perhaps more remarkably, burgers now feature on the menus of 85% of French restaurants. Not that you’d call them malbouffe. At L’Artisan du Burger on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, burgers with ingredients including rocket, lime zest, reblochon cheese, compote of red onions and a smoked spice sauce cost €12 (more if you want them in a squid-ink bun topped with nigella or black cumin seeds).

“They’re part of our national cuisine now,” said Sara Vérier, a bank worker and frequent restaurant-goer. “Almost every place – even some really quite smart ones – does at least one. You get nice French touches: a wedge of foie gras, roquefort. Sometimes even truffles.”

Bernard Boutboul, Gira Conseil’s managing director, describes the burger’s seemingly unstoppable rise in France as “a euphoria, a craze” that has now started to verge on “hysteria”, with posh burgers outselling French bistro classics such as duck breast and boeuf bourguignon in many restaurants.

Yet the vast majority of burgers consumed in France – 70% – are far from fast food. They are eaten sitting at a table, with (often) a glass of wine, in a “proper” restaurant. Which does not mean the home of haute cuisine has not fallen for fast food: it has. French eating habits are changing.

Increasing time pressure (no more two-hour lunches the average French worker now takes a 31-minute break at midday, according to one survey) and the emergence of home-delivery services such as Deliveroo and UberEats have seen the country’s fast-food sector expand exponentially.

France’s 32,000 fast-food outlets booked sales of about €51bn last year – 6% more than in 2016, 13% up on four years ago, and almost three times the figure in 2005. What’s more, they now represent 60% of the entire French restaurant business.

Fast food “doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t eat well,” said Josiane Bouvier, a geography teacher, emerging from Nous, an organic takeaway on rue du Châteaudun, with an unFrench-sounding “hotbox” of grilled chicken, mint yoghurt sauce, seasonal salad and wholegrain rice. “I think many French people who go even to fast-food places are very conscious of the quality of ingredients, and whether dishes are really made on the premises,” she said. “But that’s if you can afford nine, 10 or 12 euros for lunch out.”

And there’s the thing. Good food is no longer cheap in France – in restaurants or at home. The country’s food processing and distribution firms are big and powerful. French eating habits, the national food agency Anses says, are no longer a model: now it involves more and more highly processed foods, too much salt, and not enough fibre.

For all its particular relationship to food, France is far from immune to la malbouffe. MPs reported last week that as many as 30 million French people, mainly in lower-income households, will be obese or overweight by 2030 unless big food firms slash salt, sugar, fat and other additives and children are educated to eat more healthily.

“French families spend less money and less time on their food than ever before,” said one MP, Loïc Prud’homme. “We need to take back control of our plates.”

Another, Michèle Crouzet, who has campaigned for less salt in food, was blunter. The French “are not dying of too much food,” she said, “but little by little, the food we eat is killing us.”


Kyk die video: The스쿱 # 34. 캬라멜팝콘 만들기 Making Caramel Popcorn (November 2021).