This Wednesday marks what would have been the 100th birthday for Julia Child. While I haven’t been a lifelong fan, I must admit that I am a recent convert. Not because of the popular book turned movie “Julie & Julia, which was mildly entertaining (BTW, the second book was a self-indulgent whine-fest). I recently checked out “My Life in France” from the library. And through the pages, I have become completely smitten with Julia Child.
As I have been reading through this memoire, I have found that our lives have parallel moments. I am certainly no celebrity chef, but it was surprising to me that she didn’t really even start to cook in earnest until she was in her
mid-30’s, like me. She was the type of cook who was very regimented about her recipes and didn’t have much tolerance for her partner who was a throw-it-together type. She dreamed of living in the south of France and felt that is where her heart was. She fell into TV, even though it wasn’t what she had planned for herself. Her husband adored her and supported her every step of the way as she spent endless years creating her cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. As I have read through this book, I have realized what a beautiful woman she really was. She really was funny. I wish I had been fortunate to have known her personally. It would have been hugely gratifying to have worked alongside her. Through my reading, I have grown to appreciate her, despite the early impressions that I had, which in all honestly were based on several comedic impressions, including a side-splitter that my 6-year old niece used to do.
I hope that you will find some time to learn a little bit about this wonderful woman. I know that I have been better for it.