My Life in France
By Julia Child and Alex Prud’homme
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Reviews Posted on Sun, Apr. 02, 2006 Bon appetit! My Life in France Knopf, $25.95 GRADE: A- For those of us of a certain age who licked our lips anticipating the food revolution of the 1960s and '70s, Julia Child was a sort of culinary Joan of Arc, leading a charge against the reigning despots of mediocre dining. With her chirpy call to pots and pans, Child was an implacable force, exhorting us to break free of the tyranny of soulless, pre-fab foods. But for all of the culture's adoration — really, beatification — of Saint-Julia-of-the-stove, few of her disciples knew much about her personal history. Which is where My Life in France comes in. In this as-told-to story Child related to Alex Prud'homme before her death in 2004 at age 91, she traces the path toward the twin milestones of her early career: her book Mastering the Art of French Cooking and her TV debut in The French Chef. What Child's early trajectory makes abundantly clear is that she was never a humorless kitchen technocrat, testing sauces with the grim efficiency of an FDA chemist. My Life in France is a warm, touching and endlessly engaging account of how she channeled her enthusiasm for living large into an indefatigable pursuit of her kitchen calling. Like a surprise nougat bursting from the center of a chocolate truffle, My Life in France also serves up her moving romance with the Renaissance man of her life. A diplomat, painter and photographer (his superb shots are scattered throughout the book), Julia's husband, Paul Child, opened France up to the wide-eyed Pasadena, Calif., native, coddling her dream of becoming a thoroughly trained chef and polishing her status as a cultural icon even when it completely engulfed his own considerable talents. About her unbreakable union with Paul, Child writes with loving brevity: "We were a good team." The heart of My Life in France tells of the years 1948 to 1954, when Child lived in Paris and Marseille. As hermetically sealed as a Mason jar, the narrative — aside from cameos by such Parisian literati as the twitchy-mouthed Colette or the studiously dowdy Alice B. Toklas — fixates on Julia, Paul and a small gaggle of fellow gourmets and gourmands. My Life unspools in such a conversational way (every page seems sprinkled with such Child-ish exclamations as "yahoo" or "yum") that it's as if Child herself is sitting opposite you, spinning one more garlic-scented yarn. At the outset of her journey, Child is a slightly sheepish know-nothing ("What's a shallot?"; "Wine? . . . At lunch?") in a land of gastronomic know-it-alls. Culinary historians will be eager to read of that key day in 1949, when Child first enrolled at Paris' famed Ecole du Cordon Bleu. Her time at the Cordon Bleu was as pivotal to her development as Picasso's blue period was to the painter's. This was where she added rigorous technique, an appreciation for fresh ingredients and an academician's thirst for food history to her simmering passion for French food. It wasn't long before Child was turning out such extravagances as roasted woodcocks, beef tenderloin in pastry crust, apricot mousse and souffle Grand Marnier. She brought an acid resolve to her deconstruction of the perfect mayonnaise and, of course, her touchstone desire to produce the ultimate roasted chicken. ". . . I fell in love with French food — the tastes, the processes, the history, the endless variations, the rigorous discipline, the creativity, the wonderful people, the equipment, the rituals . . . How magnificent to find my life's calling, at long last!" Child writes in a typically candid and fizzy passage. That passion showed in every one of the 732 pages of her seminal Mastering the Art of French Cooking, which, for the first time, walked the average American cook through all the logical steps of creating the kind of meal one might enjoy at a Parisian bistro. Toward the end, My Life in France shifts from its leisurely braising of Child's formative years into a microwave-brisk presentation of her grandest accomplishments of the 1960s: publishing Mastering the Art; the lights, camera, action of the first French Chef broadcast; and her 1966 Time magazine cover with the headline "Everyone's in the Kitchen." In one of the book's most delectable anecdotes, Alfred Knopf, the famed publisher, has serious doubts about the proposed title of Child's magnum opus, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. "I'll eat my hat if anyone buys a book with that title," he reportedly groused. "Bon appetit," Child would have sweetly responded — echoing her legendary signoff to the countless millions who would welcome the nation's most beloved chef into their homes for decades to come. Andrew Marton, (817) 390-7679 amarton@star-telegram.com © 2006 Star-Telegram and wire service sources. All Rights Reserved.
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by Julia Child, Alex Prud'Homme
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