My Life in France - Julia Child

If we go back to my first post about Julia Child, you will remember that one of my ambitions was to read My Life In France. I was enchanted by the relationship Julia shared with her husband, with France and with la cuisine française. So as soon as I finished Julie and Julia, I requested the book (during the summer) from my library......and waited until December to actually read it! And once again, the love affair between the Childs sent my heart aflutter.

Their quirky sense of humor and the way they manage to understand each other's every peccadillo astounds me. It got my brain thinking...that's what I want...someone who is going to understand all those little things about me, that may annoy an innocent bystander, but that will make them love me even more. I believe that you have to find someone who is going to love your imperfections even more than your "perfections". And I feel like that's what Julia and Paul had. When you read about their adventures and their spontaneity...it's like they brought out the best in each other, in their own unique way. It's a modern day Romeo and Juliet, minus the dying and plus the good food, good friends and good humor.

One thing that I learned, that made me fall in love with them even more is that instead of sending out Christmas cards, they sent out Valentine's Day cards. In the book Julia says that Christmas was too hectic, it always crept up on them and they could never send out the cards in time. So their tradition was to take "lovey" pictures of themselves and send those out to their friends in time for Valentine's Day. A sample of their Valentine's Day cards is in the photo insert in the book, and they are priceless.

Since I've started working in publishing, I've realized how difficult it can be for authors to find a collaborator who is going to bring out his or her real voice in their book. Sometimes, an author is not a writer, and finding someone who is going to stay true to his or her own voice and personality is essential. Julia was reticent about writing her story, but when she finally did decide to put it all down, she could not have found a better person to help her. Alex Prud'homme, Paul Child's great-nephew captured Julia in a way, that even though I didn't know her personally, I could feel her presence and fun-loving charisma resonating off the page.

If I closed my eyes, I could hear her high-lilting voice booming joyfully; sharing each one of her experiences with me. I savored the French dishes that changed how her palate tasted life. And I felt my heart leap every time she described her marriage and interactions with Paul.

Her story is inspiring to say the least. Moving to France and diving into doing something that I love, with no regrets? Sounds perfect. When I was in high school my sister used to joke that I was like Gertrude Stein. She'd say that like Stein, “America is my country and Paris is my hometown.” Lucky enough to visit Paris more than once, I was always romanced by the people, the art, the language and the lifestyle. It felt right when I was walking down the street, baguette in hand, Eiffel Tower in the background. French pastries are my weakness, but unlike Julia, my affinity for French cooking is nonexistent.

I guess growing up in a Greek household, my love for olive oil trumps my French ancestry's butter-loving butt.

A bientôt, mes amis!

For a great book review of My Life In France check out this link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/28/books/review/28riding.html