The fact that I declined a plastic bag for my purchases at the pharmacy yesterday led to a little exchange with my pharmacist on the subject of plastic bags.

She said it’s not uncommon for Americans to pass on the bag, but that the same is not true for the French. According to her, an American will as often as not walk out of her pharmacy with a box of tampons in hand, and she added that any French people who saw that would just wonder to themselves why she hadn’t given that lady a bag…

I told her that’s why I carry a big purse, and that I try not to take plastic bags for environmental reasons. She said she got the impression that Americans were more environmentally conscious than the French.

I suppressed the guffaw.

I’ve had an issue with the French thing for bags for some time now. Long ago, I thought it was charming that almost every little shop had its own fancy little bag, stylish and sturdy, often glossy, the kind of thing you only get from really expensive and snooty shops or Victoria’s Secret in the US. But the Frogs really need to get over their bag habit. Instead of class and charm, all I see now is dead trees.

So, the other day while I was out with friends, Vincent went to grab lunch at a new sushi take-out-only place down the street. He was so blown away by how environmentally incorrect his lunch packaging was that he saved it for me (what a guy!):

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A paper cup with a plastic lid for his miso soup (wrapped in a plastic bag in case it leaked). A plastic spoon. A plastic container for the salad. A cardboard box with cellophane window and lining for the sushi. A plastic packet of wasabi and one of ginger. A little plastic dish for soy sauce. Three itsy bitsy plastic bottles of soy sauce (one low sodium) that I have to admit are really cute, and I’ll keep them in case we decide to have an Asian-food picnic one day (though the likelihood of that is next to nil). “Disposable” wooden chopsticks in a paper wrapper. A heavy-duty paper napkin. All contained in one of those fancy French paper bags.

Dead trees. Petroleum products.

Sushi Shop is a “Japanese fusion” restaurant chain launched by Cyril Lignac, a dashing, 30-year-old French chef and restaurateur, which explains the over-the-top presentation and packaging. Like many things French, the presentation of Sushi Shop food is attractive and seductive, no doubt about it.

But what most people still fail to realize is that the time for this kind of thing has passed. These are luxuries our planet can no longer afford.

On the plus side, the triangle recycling symbol appeared on both pieces of the salad container and the lid of the soup cup. The little plastic soy dish and soy sauce bottles had a recycling symbol on them, though not a triangle and with Asian characters, so I don’t know if they’d be recycled here. I don’t know if the soup cup is recyclable; I couldn’t tell if it was plastic coated. But I recycled it anyway. I also removed the cellophane and recycled the box.

So this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to send a note to Cyril Lignac with a link to this post and tell him what I think. According to the Sushi Shop website, our opinions matter to him. And I will never patronize that establishment. Sorry, Cyril.

This chain is a franchise, and it’s popping up all over France. If you live here and care, maybe you could drop Cyril a line too? And consider getting your sushi somewhere else till Sushi Shop gets greener…

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