Story by Tory Hoen, Haven in Paris CorrespondentIf there’s one thing I learned while living in Paris, it is that mediocrity is unacceptable. It is for idiots and Americans—it is not for the French. I was once walking up my street when a particularly agitated French woman came charging out of a little cheese shop. She was perturbed in that very French way: shaking her head and quietly fuming, as if someone had just done her a grave disservice. When I got close enough to hear what she was griping about, she uttered the phrase: “C’était tout à fait médiocre.” It was completely mediocre.
She was talking about the cheese, or maybe about the shop itself—its merchandise, its presentation. Whatever it was, it had greatly offended her, and she uttered the word “mediocre” as if it were the most vitriolic insult she could possibly conjure up. Mediocrity—the ultimate shame.
The incident seemed indicative of a larger theme that reiterated itself in myriad ways while I was living in France, particularly when it comes to food. In the United States, bigger is often equated with better, and mediocrity is sort of the norm. When something exceeds mediocrity, we’re often pleasantly surprised. Conversely, the French have higher expectations and stricter standards, particularly when it comes to edibles. Quality and moderation trump quantity and excess. If it’s not good, vendors do not sell it, people do not buy it, one does not eat it… or wear it… or tolerate it. I have drawn a little chart to help illustrate relative tolerance levels.
Notice the difference in the size of the “Acceptable” zones on these spectra. Notice the American “Go For It!” attitude, in comparison with the French commitment to “Only If It’s Worth It.” Maybe that’s why French people are so svelte. They would rather starve with dignity than survive on canned cheese.
Of course, this is not true across the board. Crappy products are available everywhere in the world. But in general, French people are discriminating. Now that I’ve lived in Paris, I try to be too. Although sometimes I still get the urge to shove my face into a vat of peanut butter. Artisanal peanut butter, obviously.
Written by Tory Hoen for the HiP Paris Blog. Looking for a fabulous vacation rental in Paris, Provence, or Tuscany? Check out Haven in Paris.
Mediocrity is acceptable “for idiots and Americans.” Really? I don’t even know how to respond to that statement – I guess I’m still in shock that you wrote it.
Also, is that “taste spectrum” of yours drawn from cold, hard facts? Or someone’s opinion? I understand we Americans may put up with lower quality food from time to time due to its prevalence, but you shouldn’t make such generalizations. When, if ever, is insulting the entire US population finally going to be accepted as trite?
I will say, however, that I enjoyed the little story about the French woman storming out of a cheese shop, incensed by its mediocrity.
Tory,
You have made my day…….once more. The diagram is spot on. I’m reminded of the gorgeous pastries found in EVERY patisserie window, not just the most elite. There is an appreciation for the finer things from a shop window to a cheese display in the tiniest frommagerie. You nailed it. Now, where did I lay my Big Mac!
V
Katie, it may help if you imagine the stereotypical French-accented Parisian saying “mediocrity is acceptable for idiots and Americans” and the target of that comment the stereotypical American online at a fast-food buffet, heaping food upon their plate. While it is true that the French have different standards when it comes to food and fashion than we Americans, this piece is part satire, part commentary. It was certainly not intended to offend.
True… thanks, Linda. My apologies, I think my reaction was made worse by the fact that it was a Monday morning.
I so get that. (If I had edited it on a Monday morning, particularly this morning, it may have been a completely different creature by the time it went live.)
Your sliding scale of acceptability for the French and Americans made me laugh out loud! It’s true, they expect the best (or at least their idea of the best) of everything, maybe sometimes to a fault. I appreciate the French quest for quality, and have integrated that quest into areas of my own life, but sometimes the American ability to simply be practical is a strength in its own right.