Yeah, I know it is has been forever since I’ve finished anything. I’m sure I feel worse about it than you do but I’m starting to accept the fact that the brain is turning to mush. I just can’t wait for the day when I won’t care.
Perhaps that is why Julie & Julia is a perfect book for summer mush brain. It is another blog turned book chronicling the Julie/Julia project. One unhappy woman, stuck in annoying temp job, decides to learn how to cook French food by working her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol. 1. The real challenge: she will make all 524 recipes in one year. Every last one of them, even the aspics.
Aspics... I never thought I’d find anything more disgusting than calf brains as a culinary delight. The descriptions and the pain and horror Julie went through to complete that section of the cookbook set the bar pretty high. If you are like me and not an experienced French food connoisseur, aspic is where you take ingredients and place them into gelatin made out of meat stock. It’s jelly loaf. For some reason, it is the gelatin part I have a problem with. Why would you do that to perfectly good food? Jell-O should only be cherry flavoured and you should never add stuff to it (other than a dollop of whip cream if you are feeling fancy.) Now that I’ve got off my chest, after reading this book, I can respect the work that would go into a dish like that. If I should ever see one again, I won’t dismiss it out of hand and keep the shivers to a dull minimum.
I started the book about a couple weeks before the movie came out and was having problems getting through it but after seeing the movie this week, it helped encourage me to finish the last half. For the first time in the history of cinema, a movie actually compliments the book it was based on. The movie was great to give us more of Julia Child’s story, her life with Paul, her cooking, and her time in Paris. The book was great because it gave us more of Julie’s story, her life with Eric, her day job, her friends/family, and motivation on why would someone put themselves through something like this. You could read it as a post-September 11th look at New York and a piece of the emotional state of its citizens. Or if that is too deep for a summer read, one woman’s challenge to find her bliss brought on by impending dread of turning 30.
Personally, I’m really not a fan of cooking so I really shouldn’t even be reviewing this book. My general motto: can’t wait until all our nutritional requirements come in pill form. But I do like trying new food and restaurants so it has added to my appreciation in that sense.
Still staying away from aspics. Shiver.
