You will pardon me if I now step back and take some time to GLOAT.

Here we are in the culinary capital of the world. Yes, yes, you can argue that Paris lost it's superior culinary status awhile back with the rise of gastronomic genius elsewhere, such as Spain, Switzerland, the US, and heavens-to-betsy, even Great Britain. But the fact is, Paris is still le premier chef. As Adam Gopnik notes in his book, Paris to the Moon, while other cities have their few shining jewels of truly transcendant cooking, there are more fabulous meals to be had in Paris, on practically every street corner. Heck, even the 5 course meals (I'm not kidding) that Meredith gets for lunch every day at her public school would be a 100 bucks a head in NYC.

And I haven't even started to describe the absolutely incredible boulangeries (bakeries) and patisseries (pastry shops), with fresh baked goodies coming right out of the ovens in the back every morning. Just the smell is enough to make you swoon. Real croissants are light and flaky, not doughy, and crusty just on the outside and made with lots of farm-fresh butter.

So I'm gloating about being in a gourmand's paradise? Not at all, we're lucky to be here are we know it. What I want to gloat about is that we have availed ourselves of the food, the pastries, the baked goods on a regular basis and we've LOST WEIGHT.

I'm not kidding when I tell you that I have eaten croissant and chausson aux pommes (apple pastry) most days for breakfast, and have a (usually chocolatey) something for dessert every day almost without fail. And I definitely do not starve in between. But I'm now almost 40 lbs lighter than I was at my heaviest, and weigh the same pants size that I did when I graduated high school. Cathy looks trimmer and fitter than I've ever seen her. Now we had both lost some weight, courtesy of Atkins, before we left the States. But about a month after we moved, I had to go out and buy new pants, as I had dropped two sizes. Surprised the heck out of me. Cathy had a little shopping spree for her birthday in November, and now the (intentionally, pleasingly) form-fitting pants she bought are loose on her. And no, we haven't turned into fitness freaks. Not in this city, where stretching is considered a form of exercise. Well, Cathy is doing yoga classes 3-4x/week, but she had been doing that for years in NY. Me, I can't stick to an exercise regimen even with a bathtub-ful of SuperGlue. So what's the secret? Stay tuned...