Perhaps I should rephrase that: I like to think and hope that Julia Child and I would have been good friends.
I recently picked up Julia Child’s autobiography, My Life in France, and have become a bit obsessed with America’s culinary matriarch. The book chronicles her time in Paris in the late 40’s and early 50’s with her husband Paul, as she fell in love with food, the French people, and the art of cooking.
As I devoured this book, I couldn’t help but wonder: if I’d met Julia, would we have been friends? I’d like to think so.
I think our best relationships are with those people who are simply better than ourselves. Being friends with people who are smarter, wittier, more knowledgeable, more loving or more kind lifts us up and makes us want to be that much better beings.
Julia was hilarious, kind, well rounded, and warm. She was a person who swallowed life in massive gulps and didn’t take herself too seriously. She brought excitement and glamour to America’s kitchens, and taught us that it’s okay to make mistakes (or set your stove on fire), as long as you learn from your mishaps and improve your next go-around.
Who wouldn’t want to be like that?
I’ll never get the chance to meet Mrs. Child, but every time I open The Art Of French Cooking, I like to think a good friend is helping me make a delicious meal that will delight and warm the hearts of the people I love.
Bon appetite! And thank you, Julia.