Julia, I Still Love You

I went with two dear friends to see “Julie & Julia” on Saturday afternoon.   It was so thoroughly charming, funny, and touching.  I loved it.  Meryl Streep’s portrayal of Julia Child was brilliant, the kitchen scenes were to die for, and the dialogue about blogging rang so true to what a fun little ride blogging really is.

Anyone who loves cooking knows what a genius Julia Child was.  She made French cooking accessible to American cooks for the first time.  Love her.  Worship her.

Seeing the film made me think about my own success in cooking, what a long journey it has been, and how Julia was there with me at the beginning.  My first real success in the kitchen was cooking a Canadian Thanksgiving in honor of our dear Canadian friend R.  When I issued the invitation, I asked him what Canadian Thanksgiving entailed.  He told me his mother always made lamb.  I have no idea if that is traditional in Canada or not, but I got it in my head that I would make a leg of lamb.  For the first time.  Now let me say here, that at that time, I could hardly be considered competent in the kitchen.

I cracked open a copy of Julia Child’s The Way to Cook, which I purchased for $1 because it had a damaged cover.  I read and re-read the section on Roast Leg of Lamb.  According to the notes I scribbled in the book, I chose a four pound sirloin half.  To go with it, I made what she calls “A Little Sauce for Roast Lamb” which she describes in this way:

“You want to make sure in making a sauce for lamb that it does not adulterate the special flavor of the lamb itself–the sauce should be an extension of tastes, in other words.  That meas no other predominant flavors, like tomatoes, carrots, or beef stock.  Onions, garlic, a whiff of celery, parsley, and a little bay leaf, rosemary, or thyme are enhancers, and chicken stock is natural but gives body.  The following sauce has a slight liason, and gives a little more per serving than a deglazing sauce.”

How could you not cook something described as having “a slight liason?”

At the time, it appeared to be quite complicated, but now looking at it, I see that it is little more than a roasted lamb with a lamb stock made from scratch.  At the time I was feeling a little overwhelmed by The Whole Thing, and I made the sauce the day before so I would not have to worry too much about it on the Big Day.  I don’t really remember what else I made, probably mashed potatoes and a green vegetable.  For some reason, I didn’t include that in my notes.  But oh my god.  The lamb.  The sauce.  The whole thing was perfection, and it gave me my very first real taste of success in the kitchen.  That confidence allowed me to try other challenging recipes, and taught me that if you just follow a decent recipe, you can make anything.  And from that day on, I did.

I’m sure just about any foodie can name their first true success in the kitchen, and I am proud to say that mine was with the lovable genius Julia Child.  I can only wonder how many more success stories she inspired.

My little family was at the library on Sunday, two days after the movie was released.  I thought I’d have a look at what Julia Child books they had at the library.  All six copies of her Mastering the Art of French Cooking were checked out, with seven holds for the first returned copy.  Three copies of her autobiography, My Life in France were checked out as well, with eight holds.

Apparently she’s still got it.

One Response to “Julia, I Still Love You”

  1. Frederick writes:

    We just seen the movie, it was so great. The movie made me very hungrey and now reading about your lamb I am really hungrey.

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