Hello.  For about ten months now I have been grappling with intolerance in my life, something deeply rooted and painful to me and to loved ones.  I feel that it’s time to come out with it, to share this issue publically in order that others may not suffer as well.  Here it goes:

My name is Bryan.  I live in Paris.  And I am lactose intolerant.

I join the roughly 30 million Americans who, by the age of 20, develop some sort of negative reaction to dairy products.  If I were in America, I probably wouldn’t worry so much, since there are more soy alternatives available in the grocery store than stars in the sky.  The real problem is that I live in France, a country that can proudly boast a different cheese for practically every day of the year.  Cream-filled pastries line bakery windows.  Ice cream and gelato can be found on every corner.  How’s a guy supposed to deal with such blatant intolerance of his own intolerance?

Double-dairy: for extra creaminess, do as the French: spread a little butter on your bread before heaping it with brie (Bhamsandwich)

I’ve learned to cope.  I don’t take it personally that most French foods are riddled with lactose molecules.  Every time I get the urge to grab some Camembert or ask for a double scoop of pistachio ice cream, I remember the pain.  Consuming the dairy sends a ticking time bomb into my gastro-intestinal tract.  Mere hours later, it feels as though a family of rabid meerkats are tirelessly trying to burrow their way out of my stomach.  It’s not good.

So for the past few months I have resisted, swearing off cheese and opting for meats on my picnic sandwich instead.  No more butter, just olive oil, please.  Yogurt?  Sure, if it has those bacteria in it that will help me digest the evil lactose (look for bifidus at the supermarket yogurt aisle).

Erica Berman

Bye bye ice cream, hello sorbet – with the added vitamins helping to fight scurvy, who could complain?  It’s difficult to pass up the fruity seasonal sorbet varieties at Pozetto or Grom (like fig and blueberry) once you try them.  The alternatives, seemingly less tempting but altogether surprising, are there if you choose to look.

The constant struggle and uphill battle has rendered me numb.  I can stroll by Pink Flamingo pizzeria or breeze by any Amorino shop without drooling helplessly.  (Note, however, that Pink Flamingo will guiltlessly make you a pizza without cheese if you ask – try the Aphrodite and just ask for extra hummus) For me, however, it’s become a non-issue.  Well, nearly.

Dairy Alert: stay away from pizza, but indulge in goat cheese salads to your heart’s delight! (Erica Berman; Fotoos Van Robin)

As no man is perfect, I still have my weaknesses.  Asking me to swear off pizza, for example, would be just as mean as feeding it to me.  Fortunately, I have a weapon.  Unbeknownst to most Parisian pharmacies – for I have asked around – there is a pill available that fights the kryptonic effects of milk – Lactaid.  While as scarce in Paris as quality customer service, the pill is easily importable via airmail, making birthdays considerably easier for my mother who no longer needs to struggle with what to buy me.

Still, I feel like an outcast each time I pop a pill before consuming my ice cream cone.  I can see the brows wrinkle above the eyes of the crepe man as he hands me my ham and cheese crepe and I tear into a Lactaid pill before diving into his creation, as if saying insultingly, “I need medicine to eat this terrible thing.”  I want to eat dairy like the other kids, yet I’m forever different.

Stay away from gorgeous scoops of ice cream like these. Opt for dairy-free sorbet instead! (Bhamsandwich; Ali A)

But I’m here to spread the word that lactose intolerance is not shameful.  Nor does it preempt anyone from French cuisine.  It’s a difficult reality exacerbated by a heavily milk-based culture tempting us with its cheesy, creamy, Chantilly-topped edibles that some of us, alas, cannot readily eat.  Life is tough, right?  Just remember that you’re not alone.  Look towards the friendly fruity sorbets, skip the caloric whipped creams, and go for a chicken and crudités sandwich instead of ham and cheese.  Life goes on, and, as long as I never become allergic to wine, I can deal with the Parisian dairy-centric gastronomy.  Just keep sending those pills, Mom…

Related Links:

• Some great tips on coping with food intolerances in Paris
• Worried about over-indulging in all the delicious French food? Check out these tidbits of advice.
• David Lebovitz has some great advice on gluten-free eating in Paris

Written by Bryan Pirolli for the Hip Paris Blog. For our amazing rentals in Paris, Provence & Tuscany check out our website Haven in Paris.

Ah, cheese. The dizzying selection. The alternately intoxicating and overwhelming smells seeping out of shop fronts and market stalls. The fierce opinions and friendly neighborhood banter while waiting in line. Cheese (and cheese shopping) is, unequivocally, one of the pillars of the French way of life. With over 350 French cheeses to choose from, buying a lunchtime treat can be an intimidating cultural challenge. With that in mind, here’s a shortlist of what you need to know when venturing out to the cheese stand…
• Most French cheeses are either Cow (Vache), Goat (Chèvre) or Ewe (Brebis) milk based, though appearances and tastes vary extensively within these categories.
• Go artisan. With so many artisan cheese shops and stands selling high quality, farm-to-market products, you’ll definitely want to forego the convenience of your corner supermarket, which mostly likely stocks mass produced goods, when purchasing cheese. Your palate will thank you…
• Don’t be afraid to ask for a sample. Pick out 2 or 3 cheeses that seem appealing and politely inquire: “Est-ce-que je peux gouter celui-ci?*” Pop the slice in your mouth, chew thoughtfully, nod approvingly and, if you’ve settled on your selection, order it up! For harder cheeses that have already been cut, 100g is a fairly standard serving. Round cheeses (Camembert, for example) are sold as a whole or half reel, and smaller goat cheeses (Crottin) are sold individually.

*: Can I taste this one?
• Word to the wise: you’ll only be able to taste cheeses that have already been cut, which are generally on the drier end of the spectrum.
• To tell how ripe a soft cheese is, like a Camembert, gently press down on it to see how much it gives. A ripe Camembert should give a little if you press your thumb into the center; firm on the outside but soft on the inside.
• Everyone needs to try a really smelly cheese. Even if it’s not your cup of tea, at least you’ll be able to say you experienced it! A Langres, Munster, or really mature Camembert should do the trick for impressing squeamish Anglophone visitors.
• Eat the rind. The rind is edible on most soft cheeses, so don’t upset your French host by scooping all the insides out of the camembert, leaving only the sad white husk behind on the cheese plate. The rind adds flavor and texture, so do as the natives and go whole-buffalo.
• Know your cheese plate. When entertaining, a respectable cheese plate usually contains most of the following: one or two small goat cheeses (a Crottin and a Cendré are good staples), a gooey Camembert, a creamy Pont l’Evêque or Brie, a Tomme of some kind (Brebis, for example), a swiss cheese (like Vieux Comté) and a blue cheese (Roquefort is a good go-to).
• Dinner party tip: It’s considered rude to help yourself to more than three cheeses. Take more than three, and your hostess will assume that you didn’t enjoy her meal enough to fill up on the elaborate, home-cooked courses that preceded the cheese plate.
• Here are a few useful links packed with cheese-related information:

o Extensive description of French cheeses and conservation methods:

http://joinusinfrance.net/html/cheeses.html

o Rundown of cheese-related etiquette:

http://www.understandfrance.org/Food/Cheese.html

o Descriptions of many French cheeses
http://gourmetingredients.suite101.com/article.cfm/a_beginners_guide_to_french_cheeses
http://www.cheese-france.com/