Anthony Bourdain got an early birthday present last week when Paula Deen, the silver-haired, butter-worshipping savant of Southern cooking, revealed not only that she’s been living with type 2 diabetes for three years, but that she plans to become a spokesperson for a diabetes drug. Bourdain, the fabulously cranky chef and host of the foodie travel show No Reservations, has called Deen “the worst, most dangerous person to America” for her peddling of ridiculously heavy cuisine.
Since Deen’s announcement, public health officials, fans, and other chefs have been calling for her head on a stake (or is it on a butter-poached steak?). These are likely the same people who expressed shock and dismay when it came out that cigarettes are bad for you. Paula Deen with type 2 diabetes is like the Marlboro Man who ended up with lung cancer. No duh.
Paula Deen is not a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She’s an overweight, Southern woman who unabashedly eats like many overweight, Southern women (I know because I live in the South, and because I have survived the Shoney’s buffet). Should we be shocked that Deen developed diabetes, which affects 26 million Americans, many of them overweight or obese from years of unhealthy habits? No. Even my four-year-old niece will tell you, “You are what you eat,” and if you eat lard and sugar, well ...
Should Deen have come out with her diagnosis earlier? She told USA Today, “[At the time of the diagnosis,] I felt like I had nothing to offer anybody other than the announcement. I wasn’t armed with enough knowledge.” So Deen wanted to take some time to privately navigate the medical and emotional complexities of a potentially life-threatening condition. She wanted to put her face on (any Southern woman will tell you that you must “put your face on” before going out in public)—and not just for herself, but so she could potentially help fans dealing with the same illness. Can we really blame her for that? Or should she have Tweeted her diagnosis from the doctor’s office?
But what’s really gotten people’s panties in a bunch is Deen’s new partnership with pharmaceutical giant Novo Nordisk. Bourdain Tweeted, “Thinking of getting into the leg-breaking business, so I can profitably sell crutches later.” A low blow, even for Tony. Don’t get me wrong. I am a Bourdain fan. But if he got a stomach-pulverizing parasite from noshing on cobra dumplings or mad cow disease from washing down bull testicles with calf saliva, would I fault him for keeping it to himself, or accuse him of endangering viewers by endorsing bat-shit crazy eating habits? No. Would I find him an appropriate spokesperson for anti-parasite drugs or whatever it is they give you for mad cow disease (hemlock?)? Yes. Yes, I would.
Deen’s family has also hopped on the bandwagon (her sons regularly appear as her props, and Bobby just debuted his own show, Not My Mama’s Meals, offering lighter versions of his mother’s recipes), which admittedly has a whiff of that Kardashian family eau d’exploitation. From Smithfiled pork products to casino restaurants, Philadelphia cream cheese to a furniture brand, lip balm to a new clothing line, it seems Deen has never met a branding opportunity or endorsement deal she didn’t like, which does make her signing with Novo Nordisk feel a little icky (why not the American Diabetes Association?). Still, the tagline of the campaign is “Diabetes in a New Light.” What if Deen’s involvement helps people with diabetes who think eating for their illness has to feel like punishment? To really get at a disease, it takes all kinds of spokespeople, not just perfect ones (if we thought the only way to beat cancer was to be like Lance Armstrong, we’d be in serious trouble).
As someone who loves to cook and loves to eat, I embrace the push for healthy, whole foods and look up to chefs who champion it. I shop at Whole Paycheck (and the nickname touches on the classism debate that rages behind the healthy food movement and that a number of people have pointed out in defense of Deen). I buy $5 tomatoes at the farmer’s market, so stop looking at me like that. But as someone who grew up in the South and finds otherworldly pleasure in bacon and heavy cream, I also like Paula Deen. She knows that a life not well lived is not worth living. I know that if I never got in a car, I would probably not die in a car accident. I would also be pretty damn bored. If I never ate Double Chocolate Gooey Butter Cake, I might never get diabetes. I would also never experience the pure joy of Double Chocolate Gooey Butter Cake.
There are some risks in life worth taking, and very often, moderation is the key. Deen herself has said as much. The beauty of being an adult is making those decisions for yourself, not having a parent or a school, or a chef on TV, make them for you. Because Deen is a TV chef, not your life coach or your mama. I, for one, send her sympathy, wish her well, and look forward to seeing what she brings to the discussion and to the table.
