Julie, Julia, and Cora

My mom and I went to see Julie and Julia right before I left for Chile- as an avid movie-goer I had seen previews of it during other movies and I had thought it looked awful- crowd pleasing and "feel good" exactly like the kind of movie you'd go see with your mom, and so we did. It didn't disappoint on that measure- Julia Child has always reminded me of my paternal grandmother who has a similar stature to Julia and in the 70's and 80's can be seen in photographs wearing similar outfits- but I think Meryl totally killed the part- no matter how mediocre the rest of the story was, Meryl was brilliant and I just wanted to watch her tell Julia's story and Julie could bugger off. Right before Julia died, she came to my college graduation- where she was being honored as a special alumni among other distinguished lower profile alum, I saw her receive her award and then filed out of the over-crowded room having had enough pomp and circumstance for the day.

I don't exactly feel like Julia Child, but one thing she said in the movie (and it's such a perfect quote it almost has to be the real deal and not hollywood) about how she was good at eating, or that she loved eating. Well, so do I. Whilst in Chile I've been pretty bummed out by the food. Except for the fresh markets there isn't much happening once you've had a completo- and seriously, one was sort of enough- it's disgustingly good in the sense that it's disgusting: mayonnaise, guacamole, ketchup, it's all condiment and mystery meat in a bun . It's kind of like the hot dog I eat once or twice a year at a baseball game- it has it's moment but you wouldn't want to make a habit of it.

But the thing is everything I can't get here, makes me want it even more. So I decided to make it myself. In the states I never really wanted to go there- making my own chicken tikka masala, and General Tso's Chicken, I guess the treasured experience of sitting down in an Indian Restaurant decorated the same as every other Indian restaurant I've ever been to- garishly- was in a way comforting and part of the savory experience, the same goes with the general tso's that regularly delivered itself to my apt door in cardboard boxes and plastic containers. I've made plenty of sushi and I'm an expert at Thai, but frankly the aura of 4 dollar chinese meals was too much - and I didn't want the spell broken.

So I've learned to make rice- something I've refused to do for 10 years because frankly I never really liked rice that much, but watching Sylvain make rice the same as you would pasta- and then draining it, was too much. I've mastered chinese food, I just made a delicious version of my favorite indian dish, I've cooked several "turning chickens" as Sylvain likes to call rotisserie and which I just bake in the oven with lemon and rosemary, and don't even get me started on the ingenious pastas. It was good foresight to pack my spice cabinet...

Still, as 3 months in Paris draws near (ok, not that near, February), my mind wanders to night after night not slaving behind a hot stove, but simple meals of warm crusty baguette and bleu cheese- because at least for now- that's one thing I can't do here.