
Editor’s note: Since August, Kristin Hohenadel has been writing and editing for the Cookthink reference section. Beginning today, Kristin will also become a regular contributor to the Cookthink blog. Based in France, Kristin is the European correspondent for Apartment Therapy and the Paris city editor for Gridskipper. Her work has appeared in, among other places, the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Vogue and Gourmet.
I went to a new dentist recently and during our little get-to-know-you session (conducted by the doctor himself, who also answers his own phone, with or without a drill in his hand; books his own appointments; walks you to the door; and takes the money right from your very hand) he asked for my profession. “Why?” I asked. “It’s for my statistics,” he said, looking up from his computer (he was typing in answers with a single finger). “To calculate which professions have the worst teeth.”
Journalists, it turns out, have pretty decent dental hygiene, though they are known to cancel appointments at the 11th hour to be whisked off on out-of-town assignments, and sometimes let their check-ups lapse. So who had the worst teeth?
“Bakers!” he said.
I suddenly had a vision of my old friend Hubert, a cute boulanger with a mouthful of rotten teeth at the ripe old age of 34. He’d been working as a baker since an apprenticeship at 14 in his native Cannes, and years of living without health insurance as an otherwise successful expat baker in Los Angeles hadn’t allowed him to acquire a set of American pearly whites.
It turns out that French bakers have the worst teeth because they breathe in flour dust all day, the sugars of which get between the teeth and gums and cause cavities galore. Flour is also the leading cause of on-the-job asthma in France; one in four patients declaring a respiratory illness are bakers by profession.
The national boulangerie association is trying to come up with preventive measures to protect the health of the nation’s bakers. Those measures include teaching them how to reduce the amount of flour dust they inhale by modifying their gestures — from emptying flour sacks to cleaning up countertops — that they didn’t learn in cooking school.