I picked up a copy of My Life in France yesterday at Barbara’s Bookstore at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. I had some time to kill while waiting for John’s surgery to be done and after all the hype I’d heard about Julia and Julie, I was curious to read about the real Julia Child. At the time, all that I knew about Julia Child was that she cooked French food, had been in the OSS, and had a TV cooking show.
My earliest impressions of Julia Child came from coming across her TV show on PBS when I was a child and, sad to say, from the Saturday Night Live skits. I hate to admit it, but somehow I gathered that she was rather opinionated and snobbish and not someone I’d like to know. I’m not exactly sure how I drew that conclusion, but suffice to say she wasn’t someone who interested me until the whole Julia and Julie thing came about.
Picking up the book, with the picture of Meryl Street as Julia on the cover and thumbing through it, I was impressed by the humlity and humanity I saw reflected on the pages. I started reading it when I got back to John’s room and I found myself getting drawn into Julia’s foodie adventures. My mouth watered as she described the butter laden treats she learned to cook in France, I felt saddened to read about her having to leave her beloved France, and I cheered for her as she found a publisher who actually got what she was trying to say.
I recognized my own opinionated nature and love of travel in her stories and I was charmed as she described shopping in markets and learning to cook from scratch. I empathized with her in her search for herself in Paris. For although, I was the one with the career while John stayed home, I know how difficult it was for him on Okinawa. It’s hard to be the one following your spouse around to the far corners of the earth. I especially empathized with how hard it must have been for her to go from having a career of her own with the OSS (the precursor to the CIA) to being a dependent spouse.
Some of the recipes Julia cooked, such as the beef bourguignon look as if they would taste incredible, but some of the others like the aspics I’m not sure I could ever bring myself to try. I know that someday soon, I’ll be getting a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking and expiremienting with some of the recipes she cooked. Even if I never become an international celebrity or public foodie, I’ll at least have the bliss of creating and eating wonderful food.
Cairn by Cairn 