Julie and Julia

I’ve finally completed my run with "Julie and Julia," the film about the infamous Julia Child and Julie Powell, a regular gal and former telephone operator turned writer by avenue of cheeky cooking blog. I did some minor research following this charming adaptation of Powell’s book only to discover that it received some pretty harsh treatment in reviews. Readers voiced complaints ranging from her frequent use of profanity to her seemingly incessant daily whining sessions. These reviews offered a batch of complete sense in reference to the disgust that Julia Child apparently shows towards Powell once she discovers her blog. I will say, having not read the book nor will ever be inspired to thanks to the “fan” club I came across, the film never clarifies if Julia Child made this deduction as a result of personally reading the blog or simply hearing about it through the proverbial grapevine. I can only assume that she did, in fact, read even if only snippets of Powell’s blog to make her determination. From what I understand from reader reviews as well as my own investigation into Powell's original blog, every other word that appears in black and white contains four letters and begins with a capital “F.” While I’m confident that Julia Child can appreciate strategically implanted profanity in a novel of fiction, given that Mrs. Child was in her nineties when she was graced with this blog, chances are that her old fashion ways did not precede her and she was offended with the language alone in a blog that was supposed to have been inspired by herself. I can only imagine, and in that imagination, I digress.

Since I am unable to feed my usual craving, no pun intended, for the original text on this film, what I can say is that I have been truly inspired to attempt as many dishes from Child’s original cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, as absolutely possible. Let me be the first to announce that my attempts will not be quite as ambitious as the truck-driving sailor, Julie Powell, as I suffer from the inability to steam lobsters alive or to take even a short stroll down the memory lane of my high school biology class and dissect a duck on my coffee table, all in the name of dinner. Still, it should be quite the interesting endeavor.

I am a bit surprised that during my feverish search to locate the most recent yet inexpensive copy of Child’s cookbook that I stumbled upon various reviews of recent readers who were inspired to do the same, long before me. I read review after review of readers who snatched up this cookbook while still viewing the credits for Julie and Julia. I have yet to receive my copy, although I’ll certainly keep you posted regarding the outcome of my own experience. My first plan of action will be to attack that fabulous stew that I still can’t even pronounce but I can only presume, for my own sanity, that Amy Adams was forced to survive hundreds of takes on various scenes just to get the pronunciation right, afterall, she can't possibly be as perfect as she seems...right?, Beef Boyiongrsofurosu-eieio or something or another. Yep, and I'm an English major. Go ahead, you try. Ok, now five times fast.



Let’s just hope it tastes much better than it sounds. Bon Appétit!