A Day in the Life of Mireille Guiliano

Times (London)

Times (London), November 12, 2006

I always have a good breakfast. You need a little of everything: dried fruit, an egg, wholemeal bread and coffee. For me, like many French women, the secret weapon is yoghurt: it has everything in it. I mean real yoghurt: either you make it yourself or buy plain or Greek yoghurt. Most of the yoghurts in supermarkets have unbelievable stuff in them.

I always have a good breakfast. You need a little of everything: dried fruit, an egg, wholemeal bread and coffee. For me, like many French women, the secret weapon is yoghurt: it has everything in it. I mean real yoghurt: either you make it yourself or buy plain or Greek yoghurt. Most of the yoghurts in supermarkets have unbelievable stuff in them.

Working in the wine business, I’m surrounded by men, so I often wear a suit, which is comfortable and suitable. I go for classic things, usually navy, grey and black, with a scarf or necklace for a little colour. People in New York assume everything I wear is French. I tell them my top is Japanese, my sweater is Belgian, my trousers and shoes are Italian. Of course, my underwear is French. All my French women friends hate dressing like everyone else — we shop in small boutiques to be unique.

Mornings are busy. Being Veuve Clicquot’s spokeswoman means a lot of e-mails, meetings and planning. And I have to give a lot of interviews on the champagne business. At the moment I’m doing publicity for my new book — it’s very time-consuming. As for the success of the first one, people who know me know I’m not a great fan of that word “success”. It did really well, but I’m still the same person. I work every day; I haven’t changed my life or my friends. If anything, it’s reinforced the fact that when you have good friends, they are happy for you.

I try to grab a few minutes to relax, to breathe and refocus my energy. I’m amazed how people in American offices are always munching things. They tell me proudly they don’t have breakfast, and then I see them eating muffins and crisps. They should learn to separate work and feeding the body. Otherwise you’re on autopilot — it isn’t civilised. The French don’t snack. In Paris I never see people eat between breakfast and lunch.

Because of my job, I have about 300 restaurant meals a year. I’ve developed a system that I apply everywhere. It’s a question of portions. Look at what is on your plate and decide you will eat half. Nine times out of 10, that is enough — except in the very expensive restaurants, where they give you so little! I have fish or meat and vegetables, just one glass of wine, and I share the dessert with my guest. I’m even more drastic when I’m flying. I don’t touch aeroplane food — the smell is enough to turn me off, and I don’t like the idea of eating and being seated for 10 hours. I prefer to sleep. I manage with a little piece of hard cheese or half a banana just before the flight. Then I drink a lot of water on the plane, and have a good meal when I arrive.

People have to learn that less is more, and French women set a good example. Of course there are French women who are fat, but France is still said to have the lowest proportion of overweight people and the highest life expectancy in the West. Generally, French women stay slim, but they also enjoy life and good food. If you eat well, you’ll become a better person and be more positive. Cut down! You don’t need 45 kinds of cereals, just as you don’t need 200 pairs of shoes.

Many of my evenings are tied up with work-related social events, either mine or Edward’s. He is president of the New York Institute of Technology and I’m the first lady. I used to go directly from work to parties, but I’ve learnt it’s best to come home, shower and do some yoga first. A lot of people in the wine business don’t like all the socialising, but I do.

I love to entertain at home. We have a big apartment with a terrace, where I might barbecue a big fish with olive oil and some herbs. I don’t have maids or cooks, so I’ll prepare one course, Edward will make the other.

That way it’s easy. It’s what I try to teach Americans. They think everything has to be a big deal, it all has to match. But in France it’s fine to serve just one course. In Provence I can make an entire meal with tomatoes, including dessert, because there are so many varieties there — yellow, green, different reds. If it’s just the two of us, we’ll have something simple: soup, pasta, steak with a red-wine sauce. Edward likes chocolate but not as much as me. I prefer not to have it in the house — if you let the offender in, you’ll eat it.

We don’t watch much television but we read a lot. I’m about to read a biography of Marie Antoinette because I saw the Sofia Coppola film. When I’m writing I do it at night — there are no distractions. As for the recipes in my books, they come from my family, and we had them all tested by a professional test kitchen. The last thing I want is the press to come down on me saying that a recipe doesn’t work.

I stay up until midnight, and very last thing I have a cup of herbal tea, or a big glass of water. I need six or seven hours of sleep — and I sleep like a baby.