I left the movie theater , like so many of you, inspired and smiling at the chameleon talent of Meryl Streep/Julia Child, the wonderful world of daily blogging, the frustrations and joy of the ‘servantless ‘ cook Julie Powell/Amy Adams, and how food really does mean love.
Growing up in South Texas, the love I felt via home cooking came my way from the kitchens of my mother, my grandmothers, and later my friends’ home cooking.
I love a good recipe, I love family food, and I love blogging- so why didn’t I think of preparing one of Julia Child’s recipes each day and blogging about it?
About a month ago I realized, when my daughters gave me a copy of the book to read, long before I saw the film, that I own two of Julia Child’s cookbooks.
Something about the description in Julie Powell’s book about the cookbook’s cover had me wandering around the house asking, “Where have I seen that book?”
While in the laundry room, where a large stash of my cookbooks is stored, I happened to glance up and lo and behold, there sat both volumes of Mastering the Art of French Cooking resting on top of a corner hutch.
Apparently I bought Volumes I and II at the flea market (who knows when), and I was using them- not for their French culinary secrets- but rather as props.
Regardless, I thought , as I imagined cooking from these cookbooks on a daily, weekly, monthly, or more realistically, a quarterly basis, “It could happen.”
Like so many things, it just takes a Day I. I have had a great deal of experience with Day I’s. Those are the days that are supposed to be the first day of the rest of your life, starting Monday, and so on.
So, why didn’t I think of that?