Today I am in Los Angeles. I am here for work, and will be here for the next couple of days to celebrate McHappy Day with good friends of Ronald McDonald House Charities like Billy Bush, Dayanara Torres, a host of mommy bloggers from Southern California, and representation from McDonald's. Some good posting ideas will definitely emerge.
However, in the mean time I wanted to write about the movie that I saw last night en route to LA. I was planning to curl up in the steerage section of the United plane with my latest volume of Penny Vincenzi's London-based novels. However, I called an audible and put on the germ-infested ear phones to watch the Westbound feature film, Julie and Julia. (Which I had been meaning to watch for awhile.) I had heard good things - that it was adorable, that the viewer would want to go back home and cook up a storm afterward, that Meryl Streep delivered an amazing performance yet again. You can blame it on my fatigue, my irritability due to the elbow bumping neighbor of mine, or the slightly muffled sound, but I found the movie only half good. That is, the half with Julia Childs was great, the half with Julie (I forget her last name), not so much.
The sections of the movie focused on Julia Childs were sweet, melodic and inspirational. (Although that voice became rather annoying.) Julia was a true original. She wanted to enable and equip the servantless housewives of America with excellent French recipes. She wanted to free them of the marshmellow fluff and jello molds, and give them the gift of butter based emulsions, aspics, and canard!! I absolutely appreciate her decades of hard work, perseverence and professionalism. She gave a unique gift and provided profound inspiration to generations of cooks and chefs.
It was the millenial version of her that really botherd me. Women of the 21st century have reverted back to meal solutions. They are too busy to follow the detailed procedures found in Mastering French Cooking and instead want five ingredients or less, 30 minute meals, and semi-homemade. Blah. The character of Julie is supposed to represent the alternative of this modern cook. She seeks out fresh and exotic ingredients, finds comfort in her cookware, and isn't afraid to increase the butter content. She is experiencing life in a different, more innovative way, than her self-absorbed success driven faux friends, and the viewer is asked to hold her up as an ideal. I had a hard time with that request. I saw her as whiny, uncreative and ultimately just as selfish as the friends she hated. Her lack luster quality lies in the fact that it was her husband's idea of writing and cooking, that they were Julia's recipes, not her own, and that she spent a measly year working on this project, whereas Julia spent a lifetime. I would top that all off with her bizaare idolistic relationship with her imaginary version of Julia Childs.
I have written about my love of food and cooking in the past, so this film seemed like a natural fit. Or, the cooking and blogging character of Julie, might at first glance seem to be someone I would admire. However, the purpose behind her pursuits and mine are quite different. To me, cooking is a gift that I want to share with others. Thinking of and preparing a meal is all about who it is for in the end. That is the way Julia Child approached a recipe, and not the way Julie did. At the end Julie is sad because she finds out that Julia Child is on record saying "I hate her." Julia, I don't blame you. As the daughter of a tireless female leader, who could do it all and still make a mean red sauce for her ravenous children at the end of the day, it takes a lot more to impress me as well.
This weekend, I encourage you to try a new recipe, slave away all day in the kitchen, but do it as a gift for your friends and family. It makes the meal that much sweeter!
Lo
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