Ahh-Julia

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     My food obsession continues.  I'm currently reading a new biography of Julia Child, a person whose show, I have to admit, I've never seen.  I have seen, however, Julie and Julia, and the movie was wonderful.  It made me wonder what sort of person she was....and how she became such an iconic cook at a time when Americans were interested primarily in cooking Spam and TV dinners, an effort to get dinner over with as quickly and easily as possible.

     I definitely don't consider myself to be as good as Julia Child, far from it, but the similarities between us have made me smile, and given me some hope that I'm not too old to have begun a career that takes most chefs a lifetime of practical experience to master.  Julia didn't begin to cook until she was in her thirties....her efforts before then had been dismal.  I like that about her...it reminds me of, well, me.  That was something that had nagged at me for a long time: did I start too late to ever become a serious cook?

     She was a large woman, every one knows, and as a younger person, she ate for fuel, not flavor, and she ate a lot.  A lot.  I knew I was never going to be anywhere near 6 feet tall, but I was the same way.  I ate like a much larger person, and had, fortunately, the metabolism of a hummingbird.  (And yes, The Mom was right....that metabolism disappeared the second I turned thirty. Sigh.)  I can remember being 18 years old, and a whopping 104 pounds, and going to a restaurant that served a burger the size of a dinner plate, one of those "if you can finish it, it's free" kind of deals.  I didn't have to pay for my meal that day.  Whether the burger was good escapes my memory now.  I don't think I really cared.

     She had her food epiphany in much the same way I had mine: great meals in restaurants overseas, hers in France, mine in Japan.  It was there I discovered that food could be fabulous, although it would take me a lot longer to realize that I could make it that way, and that that was what I loved to do.

    She spent years perfecting recipes, and understood that careful measuring and mastery of technique were a must in preparing meals that inspired food rapture.  I've been notoriously outspoken about the folly of measuring things, and the fact that I hate to be reduced to that sort of thing.  But I'm beginning to realize that's exactly what I have to do.  It's been my successes more than my failures that have led me to that conclusion.  I made an eggplant parmesan the other night that was, if I do say so myself (The Man, The Boy, and The Girl agreed, so I feel justified), fantastic.  The unfortunate thing is that I went about it in my typical fashion....throwing a little bit of everything into my sauce, always tasting and tweaking until I got it just right.  And I did, but now I know I'll probably never be able to duplicate it.  Why oh why did I not keep track of my ingredients and measurements, and for heaven's sake, write down the darn things??

     Finally, once Julia found her food passion, she was, like me, completely obsessed.  She spent hours thinking, cooking, writing, living food.  I used to think that I was the only one who felt that way.  It's nice to know a kindred spirit.  I start thinking about it when I get up in the morning, and at night I fall asleep with recipes and ingredients and preparations dancing through my head.  I read about it, watch cooking shows on television, and can't wait to come home from my job cooking in a restaurant all day to start....cooking.  I am definitely obsessed.

     So it is with renewed determination that I get back into all aspects of it.  Creating recipes, searching for enlightened food, reading, writing, and living this obsession with total, unapologetic abandon.  Thank you, Julia!