After a French-inspired dinner at our house, a la Ina Garten's Barefoot in Paris (yes, I know it wasn't from Mastering but cie la vie is what I say to that), my family and I went to see Julie & Julia. It was fun to finally cook again since this summer's cooking has been more about something I've thrown together quickly. In fact, even my sacred ritual of baking on Sunday mornings and listening to Breakfast with the Beatles has gone out the window. So it felt really good to be back in the saddle. It almost felt like I was cooking for a holiday — then again I was cooking for Julia… kind of.
I was excited to see the movie –- I too have loved Julia Child and I truly believe she brought cooking in this country to the next level. I've read her biography My Life in France written by her grand-nephew (I even own an autographed copy), but what I loved the most about Julia is that she accomplished so much by following her passion and being true to her quirky self. You see, I'm pretty quirky myself and I am dedicated to that fact that if we all followed our passions this world would be a much better place. But truth told I had mixed feelings about Julie Powell. I had also read her book Julie & Julia some time ago. Recently I went to take it from my personal library to give it to my friend Eileen and it was gone. A few weeks later over lunch with my boss Mary, the book came up. She said, "Remember you gave me your copy of the book, you said all Julie did was rant and you hated it." And then I remembered that was true. After reading Julie & Julia I felt less than impressed by the book and Julie. I mean she was feeling this way as she was turning 30, and she ranted and ranted. Well I got news for you sista… come this November I'll be 40 and there is still so much I plan to accomplish, but you don't hear me crying (well maybe John does but that's his job).
And so we ate a lovely dinner, which included a goat cheese tart, roasted beets, sautéed string beans, my famous roasted chicken with croutons and a peach tart and then we set off to see the movie. Throughout the movie John and I cracked up -– so uncontrollably -- I think the rest of our family wished they could slink away in the darkness of the theatre. But John and I could totally relate. First off come over on a Saturday afternoon and you'll often find us sipping a martini or two -– for no good reason other than it is Saturday. Second, Julie and Eric's cat looked exactly like our guy Versace. But the thing that hit home the most is when Julie dropped the chicken on the floor and had a meltdown right next to it. During that scene John poked me in the ribs because I've had a meltdown on the floor myself. As I recall a bowl of breadcrumbs went flying across the kitchen and our floor still bears the scar. I crumpled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing with a halo of the breadcrumb around me. A few weeks later I said to John, "Where is the fruit bowl?" and without a word he glanced at the scratch in the floor. Oh yeah……
Sometimes I think I missed the blog boat. I mean there are tons of great blogs out there that I read on a regular basis, Orangette, Smitten Kitchen, 101 Cookbooks, The Wednesday Chef, to name a few. But I think mine is pretty good too and I'm not where I'd like to be with it. On the other hand lately I haven't been the dedicated busy bee blogger either. I'm not sure where this whole thing will go, but I can tell you that when I did leave the movie theatre I wanted to thank both Julie and Julia—because I realized Julie "got me" and Julia continues to inspire me.
