De-Flouring New York

Students who spend their junior year abroad are prepared by
Columbia’s study abroad office to expect something called
“reverse culture shock” upon their return to the U.S.
After spending last spring in Paris, I assumed this would manifest
itself in some wistful nostalgia for the bustle of a brasserie or
the sumptuous symmetry of the Luxembourg Gardens. What I found
myself craving instead was far more tangible: croissants, pain au
chocolat, crepes...

Four months in Paris had turned me into a bread-buttering,
crust-critiquing pastry snob.

This brings me back to the term “reverse culture
shock.” Try “reverse culture assault.” The Atkins
diet, which was still generally regarded as an obscure and somewhat
extreme regimen when I departed last winter, was in full swing upon
my return in May, profaning all that is sacred with its “net
carbs” bubble.

Imagine my puzzlement when, having dined only the night before
on duck confit, mashed potatoes, and red wine, I stood before a
subway ad for Bud Lite announcing, “All lite beers are low in
carbs. Choose on taste.” It was a foreign language.

The urban landscape had clearly changed while I was abroad, with
low-carb advertising on every corner. But how many people, I
wondered, were actually following the Atkins diet? I decided to
look for answers at the mecca of health-conscious fast food:
Subway.

Subway debuted its line of salads and wraps last year. In the 20
minutes I stood waiting to speak with a manager on a busy Friday
afternoon, I saw only one wrap prepared among over a dozen
sandwiches.

“People buy them all the time,” Savas Cinar, owner
of the Subway at 125th and Broadway, assured me. “But people
don’t know if you put a lot of stuff on it, it’s not an
Atkins-friendly nothing. People just don’t know.”

A precise figure of the number of people following Atkins is
impossible to come by, given the erratic nature of dieting. What is
clear is that the market for low-carb foods is thriving. According
to the Minstrel Group, a Chicago research firm, 1,051 low-carb
products were introduced within the first six months of this year
alone, compared to 633 in all of 2003. It’s been estimated
that as many as 10 percent of Americans are purchasing low-carb
products.

This figure is tormenting major bread and baked good companies.
Krispy Kreme, the Winston-Salem company that specializes in
unapologetically decadent donuts presented in kitschy packaging, is
the most visible victim of the Atkins craze, having watched its
stocks drop in value by half in the past year. They hope to unveil
a sugar-free donut (shudder) by December. Dunkin’ Donuts is
already mobilizing, having debuted a low-carb bagel and croissant
last week.

The thought of a low-carb croissant is about as enticing to me
as a cup of dirt, but I decided to try one for investigative
purposes. I headed over to the Dunkin’ Donuts at 125th and
Amsterdam, where the manager informed me that the new items had
been selling well—the bagels somewhat more so than the
croissants.

I sat down to examine my purchase. It was flattened and
circular, topped with sesame seeds. I tapped it on the table, then
took a bite: not as dry as I expected, but very very chewy. A far
cry from the flaky, melt-in-your-mouth variety one finds in a
Parisian patisserie. This was more like hardtack, actually. I
forced down the remainder, with the help of some iced coffee, and
decided to head down Broadway to see how the local bakeries were
faring.

There were no Atkins-friendly options at the Silver Moon Bakery
at 105th. General Manager Michael Starky informed me that business
was better now than it had been in all four previous years of the
bakery’s existence.

When asked if Silver Moon felt any pressure from its customers
to provide low-carb options, he replied simply,
“None.”

“How could we?” he observed. “We’re a
bakery.”

Now you’re speaking my language.

Business seemed to be booming at Absolute Bagels (between 107th
and 108th) and at Hot & Crusty (between 104th and
105th)—so much so that the managers requested I come back at
a less busy time. That’s ok, guys. Question answered.

I headed uptown, pausing for a moment before the site of
Columbia Hot Bagels and wishing desperately that I had a
full-bodied stout in hand to pour on the cement. There are more
formidable foes, it seems, than even the Atkins diet: namely, the
New York City real estate market.

I came within sight of my dorm, positioned conveniently above
Nussbaum & Wu, and smiled to myself, feeling reassured that
there was still a place for the pastry lover in the New
World.��