It’s like I was born to read this book. Or that this book was written just for me.
I love, love, loved Julia Child’s memoir of her life in France. Not only was it a firsthand account of a remarkable experience, but her nephew, Alex Prud’homme did an excellent job of capturing her voice and personality in the book.
I never really thought about how much work goes into a cookbook. She not only had to research the recipes and make sure that they worked, but she wanted to explain why she did things a certain way and how things should look and feel and smell and taste.
This cookbook changed the face of the American home cook, and it amazes me to look at my cookbooks now and think about how she impacted the way that they were written and even how we look at cuisine today.
She made French cuisine accessible to the American housewife, but, in doing so, she opened a door. She encouraged cooking enthusiasts to be open to new experiences, to try new things, to fail miserably and try again, and to believe that they could create these culinary masterpieces with the right ingredients, a little know-how, and the confidence that anyone can be a good cook.
I want to be her. Like, I want to move to France and take classes at Le Cordon Bleu and learn how to break down chickens in nothing flat. I want to breathe beurre blanc and steam fish and make a really “chickeny” roast chicken.
Unfortunately, my oven’s broken right now. But I’m excited about seeing all of the wonderful things I can do in my kitchen without one. Thanks for the inspiration, Julia. I owe you one.
On a side note: YAY!! I’m all caught up with my reviews for Cannonball Read!! No more backlogged reviews!! Now I can just review ’em as I read ’em.