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

Austen meets Book meets Girl

Confession: When I was in high school I was a bona-fide theater nerd. I loved singing and acting (sometimes dancing, even though I can't dance to save my life, unless booty dancing is legit, and if that's the case I should probably join the New York City Ballet).

I loved the costumes, the makeup, the incestuous camaraderie and most of all, I loved the moment right before the lights came up for the first scene.

First, the audience members shift quietly in their seats, people backstage frantically whisper to each other on their headphones and make sure everyone is in place, and you stand there trying to remember your first line. But then the atmosphere changes, always just seconds before the bright lights illuminate the stage and bring you to life; the audience settles, those people backstage pause and you all take in one deep, collective breath.

ACTION!

I think that's why I liked this book so much. It kind of reminded me of being on stage; getting to transform into a different person, creating layers and diving into an alternate world.

When Jane Hayes' great-aunt dies, she leaves Jane an all-expense paid trip to a resort in England where she leaves her modern crap behind and immerses into an Austen world; trading in her cellphone for a trunk full of empire waist dresses. Jane realizes that this is her last chance to find her Mr. Darcy before she tucks that fantastic dream away forever.

Those who work at the resort are actors paid to deliver the most authentic Austen experience. At first this place seems like a dream come true, Jane's last hurrah before turning over a new Darcy-free leaf; however, we all know how that ends. Jane of course falls for the wrong guy, when the right one is right under her nose! It's one of those really frustrating chick-lit books that you know who she should (and will eventually) end up with, but she still does not heed your telepathic advice.

I always find that when I read these "predictable" books, I am torn between knowing that in the end everything will work out the way it should and wanting the ending to surprise me and be drastically different. The most annoying thing is that the action always happens in the last 100-50 pages and the really important part, a.k.a when the two people finally realize they love each other and need to jump through a million hoops to reach one another, takes place within the last 10-5 pages. I can't help having a love-hate relationship with this chick-lit template. I love knowing that there will be a happy ending, but what happens after they make out at the airport? Do they get married? Does he turn out to be a douche-bag?

We don't get to see the real part. The part after the honeymoon months....but maybe that's the point. These books are meant to help you escape the mundane, every-day seriousness that is real life, right?

Bringing Home the Birkin

I love biographies that read like fiction. Bringing Home the Birkin (by Michael Tonello) is full of crazy anecdotes from a man who uprooted his life, moved to Spain and then decided that he could make a living by selling everything Hermes on eBay. A real entrepreneur if you ask me.


At first, Michael hooks you with his naive ignorance of the most coveted Hermes handbag. As his story unfolds and he becomes well-versed in everything Birkin (with help from his eBay friends)his bold and courageous personality lands him at the Fauborg store in France with his first (of too many) Birkins.

How did he do it? How could someone from a small town in Massachusetts get himself thousands of Birkin bags when so many women and men have been on the Hermes waiting list for years?

You'll obviously have to read his book to find out his Birkin buying "formula", but let's just say he had to drop an insane amount of cash to get the sales associate to even look at him twice to then drop another insane amount of cash to get what he actually went into the store to buy.


Every page of this book is full of hysterical encounters and a running tab (thousands of dollars just thrown about with the motto of , "Spend money to make money") that made my stomach turn with nerves and a twinge of envy. Most importantly, I was given the opportunity to transport myself to some of the most beautiful cities all over Europe. This got me thinking about my completely valid and totally realistic dream of moving to my own little city in Europe and finally starting my wonderful life as a glamorous and artistic ex-pat.


Reasons For Why I Dream About Moving to Europe:


1. Italy:
a. Hot Italian sex
b. Perfect my Italian
c. Eating all the gelato that boot can hold
d. Meet a sexy Italian man and live happily ever after


2. France :
a. Acquire a kick-ass job as an art conservationist at one of the museums in Paris
b. Become an artist
c. Perfect my French
d. Meet a sexy French man and live happily ever after


3. Spain:
a. Become a food critic
b. Move into an amazing Dali-inspired apartment with a beautiful terrace overlooking a gorgeous view
c. Meet a sexy Spanish man and live happily ever after


4. Greece:
a. Live in Santorini and become a volcano observer
b. Get fat on feta and tomatoes
c. Meet a sexy Greek man and live happily ever after?







I think you get my drift.

However, like every story that is filled with decadence and materialism, fiction or non-fiction, the person eventually has what Oprah likes to call an "A ha! Moment". He realizes that $8,000-$35,000 handbags could be the be all, end all of a person's life, but that it certainly wasn't going to be the case in his. When he first moved to Spain, after leaving his beloved P-town in Massachusetts, his need to make money was what propelled him to work with one of the most coveted handbags in the designer world. As his story progresses, this need consumes his life. But things like those are ephemeral, fleeting. You can lose sight of the important aspects that kept you going way before you had that perfect pair of shoes or that bag that everyone wants.

But even with the lesson learned, I think I'll book my next trip to Epcot Center in Disney soon and maybe catch the 6 train down to Chinatown for my own adventure in the world of designer handbags.