Julia Child, on Marijuana and Martha Stewart

In January 1997, Fab National magazine sent me to interview Julia Child, then 82, who was making an appearance at a large department store in downtown Toronto. As I was neither a cook nor any particular sort of gourmand, I barely noted it in my appointment book a the time.

Still, given that she was a lady of a certain age, and the grande dame of American cuisine, I brought her flowers. Mrs. Child appreciated the flowers very much, and generously gave me half an hour of her time. Fab National was a Canadian lifestyle magazine for gay men, and the theme was Valentine's Day cuisine, but Mrs. Child, upon hearing that I wanted to talk about the romance of food, decided that I was writing for Romantic Food magazine.

I don't believe there is such a magazine, but it seemed less important to correct her than it did to listen to her words of wisdom.

At the end of the interview, I knew two things: I understood why Julia Child was a force of nature, and I was very, very hungry. Mrs. Child's descriptions of food -- the sensuality with which she endowed descriptions of butter, and salt, and wine -- were very nearly narcotic. And she was lovely. A truly great lady, as well as a true lady.

In light of the impending release of Julie and Julia starring Meryl Streep as Julia Child (I ask you, seriously -- who else could play Julia Child?) and Amy Adams, I revisited our 1997 interview with a pang of genuine nostalgia, as well as the more usual cravings her words have always inspired. It was an honor to speak with her, even for such a short time.

And she was right about the chocolate and the marijuana, too.

MR: Mrs. Child, what deprived times we live in. We are at the mercy of low-fat this and high-fiber that, and it is impossible to ingest a bite without someone counting each calorie aloud for us. What are we to make of this grim landscape?

JC: I think if it continues, it may be the death-knell of good cooking. It has nothing to do with the enjoyment of food, or the pleasure of food, or the taste of food. I think it's a very dismal concept, and it's not necessary.

MR: It's certainly lacking in sensuality.

JC: There's no sensuality in it. And I think this fear of food is misplaced. If people use their heads sensibly, what they want is a well-balanced diet and small helpings. Then, have a good time and enjoy it.

MR: Will butter and gravy ever go completely out of style, in your opinion?

JC: I hope not, and I think it's coming back. I think people are realizing that just a little bit of the taste of good butter does so much to improve a sauce. And you don't need a great deal. Just a little bit adds glory and loveliness, don't you think?

MR: What might make Julia Child feel happy and contented on a cold February night?

JC: A really good dinner. A lovely piece of fish poached in white wine with mushrooms, and a nice sauce with butter in it.

MR: Valentine's Day is coming up. Do you find food romantic?

JC: Yes, I think careful cooking is love, don't you? The loveliest thing you can cook for someone who's close to you is about as nice a valentine as you can give.

MR: What is the connection between chocolate and romance, Mrs. Child?

JC: Chocolate? Well, I have heard that chocolate has some of the same elements that marijuana does. And marijuana presumably makes people happy. Chocolate certainly does.

MR: What do you think of Martha Stewart?

JC: We know her. She's a very special person. And I think she's also a perfectionist. She came to our house when we were doing the baking series. She was very professional and pleasant to be with, and she did a beautiful job.

MR: She has been lampooned and parodied somewhat mercilessly, alas.

JC: Yes, and I don't know why. People are probably jealous of her because she's so good-looking and capable, and anything she sets out to do she can do.

MR: Mrs. Child, I've heard about your days in the O.S.S. -- the spy agency -- during World War 2. Tell me, how does a 6'1 glamour queen from Smith College remain inconspicuous enough to be a spy?

JC: The O.S.S. was a big bureaucratic organization, and I was a file clerk the whole time I was there.

MR: So you didn't see any action?

JC: I would have liked to, but they said, "If any of you girls start fooling around, you'll be sent right home!"

MR: As a no-nonsense Yankee woman, how does it feel to have been set up as the dowager empress of American cookery? How have you handled the adulation?

JC: I don't pay much attention to it. I go about my work, and I'm very happy to be in this profession.

MR: What would be your suggestions to young men starting to entertain, cook, and throw dinner parties for the first time? The advice from God Herself, please.

JC: I would try to learn as much about cooking as I could. One good way is -- if you have a friend who is a good cook -- to offer to help him or her, to say "Anytime you're giving a party, I'm your man. I'll help, wash dishes, take garbage out." Another way is to take cooking classes. You don't need an enormous amount of knowledge. It's not that difficult. You just do it.

MR: What's next for Julia Child? More videos? More books?

JC: We haven't decided yet. I'll be glad to get back in the kitchen. I miss my stove.

MR: Your energy hasn't flagged at all, has it? Even at 82?

JC: Well, I eat properly. And I love my work.

Comments

[Raphi]

Yum. And quite timely. All of the political drama in the US-- economic policies, healthcare, the vicious "birthers" (or is that a need for national mental health?) etc. etc.
A reminder that life should be savored. Bon appetit!

[Thane MacPherson]

I adore this woman. The dowager empress of American cookery had a grace all her own. Thanks for letting us tag along during your trip down memory lane.