Appetite For Life_ The Biography Of Julia Child Part 16

Julia Child was a household name, as exhibited in the avenues of popular culture. The cartoon strip "Beetle Bailey," distributed in seventy-three countries through the International Herald Tribune International Herald Tribune, carried a strip showing Beetle's General, sitting under a picture of George Was.h.i.+ngton, explaining that he was inspired by the portrait of George Was.h.i.+ngton over his military desk: "I try to live as he did." In the final scene, Beetle is shown sitting under the photograph of a woman in a chef's toque, and to a private's question about who it is, responding with a satisfied "Julia Child." In 1970 her name appeared in the New York Times New York Times crossword puzzle under "noted cook, 34 across" in April and again as "Chef for the French [sic], 10 across" in August. crossword puzzle under "noted cook, 34 across" in April and again as "Chef for the French [sic], 10 across" in August.

Time magazine planned a cover story on McDonald's (the nation's largest dispenser of meals) and wanted a quote from Julia. She insisted she had never been to the golden arches and was not interested. They persisted (Paul described it as begging on bended knees), and Julia's curiosity worked in their favor. After they promised that her opinion would not const.i.tute an endors.e.m.e.nt (and informed her that other food critics such as Beard and Claiborne gave their judgment), she and Paul went to Davis Square in Somerville and ordered one of everything. She delivered her opinion: "nothing but calories," not a balanced meal, bread soft and too much of it, cheap-"But the French fries are surprisingly good." Seven years later, John and Karen Hess in their magazine planned a cover story on McDonald's (the nation's largest dispenser of meals) and wanted a quote from Julia. She insisted she had never been to the golden arches and was not interested. They persisted (Paul described it as begging on bended knees), and Julia's curiosity worked in their favor. After they promised that her opinion would not const.i.tute an endors.e.m.e.nt (and informed her that other food critics such as Beard and Claiborne gave their judgment), she and Paul went to Davis Square in Somerville and ordered one of everything. She delivered her opinion: "nothing but calories," not a balanced meal, bread soft and too much of it, cheap-"But the French fries are surprisingly good." Seven years later, John and Karen Hess in their Taste of America Taste of America would claim she tried very hard "to find something positive to say without losing the gourmet franchise." In truth, she did like the fries. They had taste because they were fried in lard, she later learned when they switched to vegetable oil. Julia was judging taste alone; a nutritionist at Harvard, however, doc.u.mented that "McDonald's is good fare nutritionally, but could be improved by tossing in some coleslaw and the fruit of the season." would claim she tried very hard "to find something positive to say without losing the gourmet franchise." In truth, she did like the fries. They had taste because they were fried in lard, she later learned when they switched to vegetable oil. Julia was judging taste alone; a nutritionist at Harvard, however, doc.u.mented that "McDonald's is good fare nutritionally, but could be improved by tossing in some coleslaw and the fruit of the season."

Scores of newspaper features on Julia during the first half of the 1970s appeared in papers around the country, repeating the outlines of her life in repet.i.tive detail. Many quoted her themes during this period: her insistence that anyone can eat well if they are willing to learn to cook, that American meats are better than the meats in France, and that fast food and airline food are terrible (she and Paul carried their own food on their flights).

Coverage during the early 1970s emphasized her media role (CBS did a half hour on the making of The French Chef The French Chef, and the Christian Science Monitor Christian Science Monitor covered the film tour of France), her private life (Barbara Walters interviewed her on covered the film tour of France), her private life (Barbara Walters interviewed her on Not For Women Only) Not For Women Only), and her artistic contribution (in August 1973 she was guest of honor at a party on Long Island that included Max Lerner, Jerome Robbins, Willem de Kooning, and many other artists). Her honors included a press award (the only one given to PBS) by TV Guide TV Guide.

Julia and Paul went to London from Provence in February 1973 to tape promotions for the trial run of five of her programs for the British Broadcasting Corporation and to see the first show broadcast. Watching with Elizabeth David, England's favorite cookery writer, Julia was appalled when she realized they had cut off her introduction (in which she said she was a home cook and not a chef, an American and not French) and began with her laughingly brus.h.i.+ng her blouse in a disoriented way after having lifted the two lids of the chicken pans, not realizing there was steam on the lids as she touched the lids together like cymbals. She was demonstrating two chicken dishes ("Coq au Vin vs. Chicken Frica.s.see, Sisters Under the Sauce"). Because she was cooking with wine, the British press suggested that she was drinking-or that she was slapdash, untidy, and unprofessional-and the show fizzled. It also suffered from the time slot at 3:40 in the afternoon and was twice preempted. Julia privately complained that the programs were "ill-used, if not demeaned," but publicly she said, "Too bad it laid an egg" and "The English are used to stiff ap.r.o.ns." Her British supporters, notably Sally Miall and Anne Willan, blamed in part an anti-American att.i.tude and a sense of British superiority.

American-born "British" food writer Paul Levy declared twelve years later, "Deprived by this rejection of the best television cookery series ever made, the British now have an appallingly low standard-our television 'cooks' would not be tolerated by the more sophisticated American audience."

IN PERSON: TOURING AND DEMONSTRATING.

Because "teaching is a very good way to learn," as she phrased it, and because she wanted to sell books and raise money for public television, Julia offered public demonstrations. She received hundreds of requests through the years, turned every commercial one down, but usually responded to work for a charity. "I like public service," John McWilliams's daughter often said. They paid her expenses, paid a fee to WGBH, and she profited only by the sale of her books.

She embarked on her first whirlwind tour to meet her fans in 1971 to promote her Bantam paperback boxed edition of the two volumes of Mastering the Art of French Cooking Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Knopf sold the paperback rights to Bantam, with Julia's one-third share ($115,000) paid to her over several years-a smart tax decision on the part of her lawyer. She called it "a really hard sell, at last!" campaign, beginning in a suite of the Dorset Hotel in New York City by fielding serial interviews with the press. Then she went on the road to sign books and hold cl.u.s.ters of demonstrations at leading department stores such as Bloomingdale's.

From Hackensack to Houston, from Stanford to Seattle, she made fast omelets on talk shows around the country and responded to the same old questions as if she were hearing them for the first time. The formal demonstrations for large audiences were planned and diagrammed in minute detail. They were warmly welcomed in San Francisco, where Dorothy lived, and nearby at M. F. K. Fisher's house at Bouverie Ranch in Glen Ellen. When Dinah Sh.o.r.e interviewed Julia on her television program, Paul remarked that they had an "immediate rapport" because Dinah was "as warm and as charming, as sensuous and as beautiful as Julia."

With the a.s.sistance of Rosemary Manell, who flew in from San Francisco, and Elizabeth Bishop, an "a.s.sociate cook" from the TV series, helping her on all of her demonstration trips, Julia's routine was more professional and her teaching more advanced. Julia learned, she said, that "I need my own persons-Rosie Manell and Elizabeth Bishop-to travel around with me; you need somebody who knows your style." According to Paul: "The team of Rosie, Liz, Julia and Paul works marvelously well together." Yet with her performance skills, familiar a.s.sistants, and Paul's talents (he was no longer was.h.i.+ng dishes in rest-room sinks), her planning and schedules were still grueling experiences, as his detailed letters to his brother reveal, even with limousines and good hotels.

Now that she was broadcast in color, she seemed closer to her audience, who crowded her every appearance to touch her and have her autograph her book. Paul described the hourlong lines as "waves of love." Frequently he was included in local television interviews. "She always had him sit beside her," says Jane Friedman. "Paulski, as she called him, was always most important for her. It was charming to see them hold hands and kiss, to talk playfully of food and s.e.x."

Paul called fans "JW's" or "Julie-watchers with cameras" when they traveled and were approached by American tourists in Oslo, Provence, or Paris. The Dehillerin brothers found that when they hung her picture on the wall of their French kitchen equipment store, the customers would exclaim, "Oh, Joooooolia!" The Boston JW's spotted her at the market or movies, the symphony or a Red Sox game (Julia loved sports, but Paul thought the game "more interesting anthropologically than sportively"). Her neighbors often noticed her car: a large tin spoon was attached to the antenna.

To raise money for public television and keep her image before the public, Julia undertook another demonstration tour of the country in March and April 1973, just after her BBC failure. This time she also took along Ruth Lockwood. For these appearances, they sent ahead a detailed list of the equipment ill.u.s.trated in Mastering II Mastering II. Nevertheless, Julia transported eight pieces of luggage, including a two-burner stove. At each stop she would, as in Boston, write and record local pitches for public stations. Some stops were for book signings and media appearances only. Demonstration stops were for a particular charity (Chicago was for Smith College alumnae) and a fee was paid to WGBH. She was emotionally, intellectually, and financially tied to public television.

Paul believed that one was "a kind of Public Property in this epoch's culture, if one's name and face are well known." In Brooklyn the police helped keep the book-hugging mob in a neat line, but in Chicago there was nearly a riot. Paul felt Julia had "created a speaking style and method that is first cla.s.s." (When she gave a lecture at the Harvard Law School, they had "the biggest audience [they] had ever had!" Even when the fuses blew, she kept on talking.) Her audiences responded immediately to her relaxed manner and spontaneous humor. She often began by reading some of the letters of complaint, and the audience roared. Her demonstration skills transferred from her television appearances and vice versa. She always wanted as many people as possible to see the demos, yet talked as if no one could see: "cut it on the shoulder, where the upper arm joins," she said instead of "cut it here." She pretended a blind person was in the audience.

Julia and Paul chose to keep up their heavy schedule. We "love it," Paul told Charlie, it keeps "our juices flowing," and "we are not wondering what to do in our retirement." Michael Field died in May 1971 because he drove himself to overwork, Julia believed, but she did not feel she was overworking. She chose her focus-a book or a television series-and then gave it her total commitment. She told Elizabeth David about her television work: "We've brought this rush on ourselves, since we'd rather get it all done in a series of 2 lumps than let it drag all year." Though Paul suffered from occasional serious insomnia and was beginning to be aged by the schedule, Julia seemed to thrive on activity and the contact with people.

Phila Cousins, then completing her education at Radcliffe and graduating magna c.u.m laude in social psychology, was an important ingredient in Julia's life during this time. Paul initially acted as a father-mentor figure, correcting and educating her ("first cla.s.s mind but sloppy thinker," he p.r.o.nounced). "We McWilliams women had to be molded Pygmalion style," Phila said. When she met and set up housekeeping with Bart Alexander, Paul believed she was in good hands and relaxed and enjoyed her growth and beauty. The two young people were frequently at the Childs' or entertaining them at their apartment. When they married on July 14, 1974, in Sausalito, Julia and Paul were tied up completing a book in Provence; but they planned to celebrate Christmas at La Pitchoune while the young people spent a year of study in London.

Both Julia and Paul deliberately cultivated youth, both to keep themselves young and to avoid becoming fixed in their views and habits. Living near Harvard helped, for they had Phila and the numerous children of their friends and acquaintances, among them the children of David Brinkley and of Wendy Beck, whom they invited to a large party for young people in December 1973. "It was quite charming for me as a young person," said Jane Friedman, "watching these older people who really liked each other. They liked my youth." Julia also went to Pittsburgh to fulfill a promise to Mister Rogers, who had a long-running children's program on television. For his vast audience of three- to six-year-olds, she demonstrated the making of spaghetti to be eaten with chopsticks. Unknown to the television world, children were avid watchers of "Julia."

But Julia was most at home with her WGBH staff and her neighbors. In 1973, she was thrilled to be free of "our television maelstrom," as she put it (Paul said, "Julie is going crazy from her new freedom, combined with a sudden release of her long-backed-up desire for social life"). They joined in the neighborhood traditions, according to Jean deSola Pool, their next-door neighbor, which were Christmas caroling in the neighborhood ("We were Jews and Moynihans are Catholic, and Julia and Paul were anti-religious, as were the people whose home we went to after the caroling," Mrs. Pool says) and the John Kenneth Galbraiths' June commencement party ("Oh, everyone went. They are still doing it"). Paul always called him "moose-tall" Galbraith and liked to talk economics and the oil crisis with him.

SOLIDARITY FOR THE FOOD WORLD.

Julia's career and personal life were inexorably connected to the food world of chefs, cookbook writers, and cooking teachers. She believed in showing what she called "solidarity for our friends in the food world." She attended their book signings and lectures (Paul thought that Claiborne's lecture at Boston University was formless and embarra.s.sing), wrote letters of support (to White House chef Henri Haller, whom Claiborne publicly criticized), bought equipment from Elizabeth David's cookware store in London, and visited new restaurants. For their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary, after going to see the French film comedy Le s.e.x Shop Le s.e.x Shop, Julia and Paul dined at Maison Robert, an excellent new restaurant in the old Boston city hall building. She took an interest in the young chef Lydia s.h.i.+re, transferring her loyalty to The Harvest and then to s.h.i.+re's own Biba, overlooking Boston Common.

Julia particularly enjoyed Chinese restaurants in Boston, or the upscale La Grenouille and Le Cygne in New York City, but she wrote Simca, "Food is getting too much publicity, and is becoming too much of a status symbol and 'in' business, and the fancy restaurant types are getting too commercial-all with their own wines for sale everywhere." Later, after hearing for the third time that an American food person played tennis with the Troisgros brothers in France, she told Anne Willan (then at the Was.h.i.+ngton Star Was.h.i.+ngton Star, one of the few non-"home economist" food editors), "I find I'm getting tired of all this foodie one-upmans.h.i.+p."

When President Ford made dismaying comments on his food preferences in 1974, Julia wrote to chef Henri Haller with her regrets and sympathy. They could share private criticism about various Presidents' bad taste in food: Nixon's preference for catsup on cottage cheese and Ford's remarks about eating being a "waste of time" and his preference for instant coffee, instant tea, and instant oatmeal ("I happen to be the nation's first instant Vice President").

After Beard met Graham Kerr, who had just moved to the United States, he called Julia for a long conversation about his seriousness. Julia suggested that he not leave his television program, The Galloping Gourmet The Galloping Gourmet, as he planned, because he had "a good TV personality." What he needed, she told Beard, was "the right kind of program, and not a silly one," because he could be "good and useful for the good cause of la bonne cuisine." la bonne cuisine."

Julia supported the development of several cooking schools, particularly La Varenne. When it looked like Madame Bra.s.sart was going to retire and sell her Cordon Bleu, Julia and several friends decided to see if they could influence the sale to ensure a strong school for teaching French cooking to English speakers in Paris. Several were involved in the summer of 1972, including Odette Kahn, editor-in-chief of Vins de France Vins de France and and Cuisine et Vins de France Cuisine et Vins de France, Marie Blanche (Princesse de Broglie), and Anne Willan with her husband, Mark Cherniavsky, whom Julia had met in Cambridge earlier that year. The Cherniavskys (Mark was at the World Bank) wished to move to Europe, where he had earlier lived for twenty years with his cellist father. Because Anne, who was a British food journalist and author, had studied at the Cordon Bleu in Paris and taught at the Cordon Bleu in London, they wished to own a cooking school, either by buying the Cordon Bleu (which turned out to be too expensive) or by founding their own. Julia and Paul saw their own partners.h.i.+p echoed in the marriage of this "civilized and charming" couple and kept involved over the years in the planning for their school (La Varenne). "Julia was very much responsible for the germ of the idea and for keeping us on track," says Anne Willan.

On January 2, 1974, Paul and Jim Beard accompanied Julia past klieg lights and cameras to a celebrated dinner at the Four Seasons restaurant in New York, but the men stayed at the bar and drank wine, waiting for morsels of the meal to be brought to them. This was a dinner for women only, indeed for twelve leading women, a meal cooked by notorious male chauvinist Paul Bocuse and his fellow Frenchmen Jean Troisgros and Gaston Lenotre "in response to criticism that no women had been invited to [an earlier] Bocuse dinner." Gael Greene of New York New York magazine planned the promotion for these three French chefs and the press was crawling about hoping to taste samples along with Paul and Jim. Julia did not think the food was exceptionally good, and she seemed to resent the fact that the men tried to bring magazine planned the promotion for these three French chefs and the press was crawling about hoping to taste samples along with Paul and Jim. Julia did not think the food was exceptionally good, and she seemed to resent the fact that the men tried to bring all all the ingredients with them (some, including the foie gras, were confiscated at immigration). But she was excited to meet the other guests, who included Lillian h.e.l.lman, Pauline Trigere, Bess Myerson, Naomi Barry, Sally Quinn, and Louise Nevelson. Nevelson told a friend she attended just so she could meet Julia Child. Kay Graham, publisher of the the ingredients with them (some, including the foie gras, were confiscated at immigration). But she was excited to meet the other guests, who included Lillian h.e.l.lman, Pauline Trigere, Bess Myerson, Naomi Barry, Sally Quinn, and Louise Nevelson. Nevelson told a friend she attended just so she could meet Julia Child. Kay Graham, publisher of the Was.h.i.+ngton Post Was.h.i.+ngton Post, had to back out at the last minute. Lillian h.e.l.lman, Julia told Simca (who had had le lifting) le lifting), had a "wonderfully raddled face (no saquepage!)." saquepage!)." Julia thought it was soon boring without men and, she told Simca, these women had "nothing whatsoever to do with serious gastronomy." She "wouldn't have missed it for the world," however. Paul concluded that this "Dinner of the Century" was a "vulgar affair," but an amusing "publicity stunt." Julia thought it was soon boring without men and, she told Simca, these women had "nothing whatsoever to do with serious gastronomy." She "wouldn't have missed it for the world," however. Paul concluded that this "Dinner of the Century" was a "vulgar affair," but an amusing "publicity stunt."

In the spring, the "magnificent quadrumvir," as Paul called "Rosie and Lizzie" and themselves, gave thirteen demonstrations for local charities in Seattle, San Francisco, and Honolulu, netting an additional $10,000 for WGBH. At the Kabuki Theater in San Francisco, Julia's trouble with a caramel cage to cover a dessert was one she would talk about for years. "It was during the Patty Hearst kidnapping in San Francisco and everyone was nervous and thinking about killers walking the streets. I was doing a dessert in a caramel cage in which I had to get the caramel just right and dribble it over a bowl to harden. I b.u.t.tered the stainless-steel bowl, but the cage broke. It broke again during the evening demonstration. It was not pretty. Why am I doing this? I thought." She later figured out that the caramel was too hot, thus melting the b.u.t.ter and sticking to the pan. "We learn so much through mistakes!"

Calvin Tomkins had joined them in San Francisco to write a profile of Julia for The New Yorker The New Yorker, which was published at the end of the year. He described her "unique blend of ... earthy humor and European sophistication" and quoted Beard ("She has the kind of bigness that all great artists have. Singers especially ... she just sweeps everyone up and carries them away") and Merce Cunningham ("She moves like a dancer. Everything is direct and clear"). Another journalist remarked on her "sense of control, a feeling that everything has been organized."

Two weeks later they flew to Provence (for the first time, her pa.s.sport read "television and writer") to spend as many months as they needed to complete the ma.n.u.script for her book based on the color version of The French Chef The French Chef. Julia set her deadline for September 1. This second book on her own, again to be published by Knopf, was handled by her lawyer, Bob Johnson, who took over her account in 1969 after the death of Brooks Beck and suggested that Knopf was taking Julia's books for granted.

A tough but dapper man of only thirty years who escorted various grand ladies to the Childs' house and to official functions, Bob Johnson was gay but chose to keep his s.e.xual preferences to himself. Because he came from a humble background and worked at a Brahmin firm, he had what one colleague called a "grandiosity and manner that could be [mis]interpreted as arrogant." He was soon caught up in Julia's business and celebrity.

The Bantam paperback paid her handsomely (it had a printing of four million) and their sales promotion was better than Knopf's. Johnson threatened to take her next book elsewhere, giving Judith Jones the impression that Knopf was cheap and ungrateful for not offering a higher advance. Relations with Judith and Knopf became strained in the late summer of 1971. Eventually Knopf countered an offer from Little, Brown and Julia remained with Knopf. Julia would call it "my one little fling" of unfaithfulness to Knopf.

Before they settled in to complete the ma.n.u.script for Julia Child's Kitchen, they took a trip to Italy with Herb and Pat Pratt. In Venice, Paul suffered what Julia called a "dreadful case of sh.e.l.l-fish poisoning." His letters to his brother detailed a number of small physical problems; Julia says he is "cross and touchy" and he does "not know why! Must hold on to self." Back at La Pitchoune he was particularly irritated by Jean and Simca's bossy ways, and by the parties for nine (including Beard and Olney) and the foodies' visits to three-star restaurants such as L'Oasis ("pretentious ... too rich food").

Julia, Paul, and James Beard were sitting on the terrace enjoying their last cup of morning tea, Jim sitting under the olive tree in what Julia called "his big blue Chinese kimono." Whenever Jim was around, Julia's letters were full of more foodie news and Paul was amused by his wit. Paul was working to prepare more ill.u.s.trations for Julia's new book and correcting the first proofs of his own book of verses a friend was printing. He did not tell Julia he was suffering from chest pains. He soon stopped writing in his diary, explaining to Julia that the Empirin he was taking gave him a rash.

When she was not interrupted, Julia worked from 9 A.M A.M. to 7 P.M P.M. on the ma.n.u.script. In a philosophical letter to Charlie and Freddie in May, she declared, "Paul and I shall certainly go on about our work well into our 90s and 100s ... we are fortunate to be so tough and healthy." Still, she was worried about signs of aging in Paul, though the doctor had p.r.o.nounced him in perfect health before they left Cambridge. She completed her ma.n.u.script by August 31, and they stopped off at the Willan/Cherniavsky home in Paris to celebrate. Anne and Mark remember that Paul was irritable, distracted, and probably not feeling well when they were dining at L'Ami Louis.

Finished with The French Chef and The French Chef and the two books based on it, and freed of her collaboration with Simca, Julia was looking forward to a new challenge. A year before, she told Simca that if she ever did another television program, she wanted "all kinds of chefs and cooks." But by January she told Simca she wanted to do "only demonstrations." Whatever the next phase of her professional life, she would "work for the good cause of the two books based on it, and freed of her collaboration with Simca, Julia was looking forward to a new challenge. A year before, she told Simca that if she ever did another television program, she wanted "all kinds of chefs and cooks." But by January she told Simca she wanted to do "only demonstrations." Whatever the next phase of her professional life, she would "work for the good cause of la bonne cuisine la bonne cuisine by finding good young people to carry on." Instead, this next stage of her career would be inaugurated by personal crisis. It was in Paris that Paul finally revealed to Julia the severe chest pain that signaled a possible heart attack. by finding good young people to carry on." Instead, this next stage of her career would be inaugurated by personal crisis. It was in Paris that Paul finally revealed to Julia the severe chest pain that signaled a possible heart attack.

Chapter 22.

A T TIME OF L LOSS.

(1974 1977) "I am making no future plans."

JULIA CHILD, March 20, 1975

ON SEPTEMBER 27, 1974, immediately upon their return, Dr. Julian Snyder put Paul in Beth Israel Hospital in Boston. For two weeks they administered angiography, anticoagulant treatment, and medication to slow his heart, trying to determine the extent of his infarction and artery blockage. His heart attack had "crept up on tiny, padded feet, like a field mouse," he later informed Charlie. Five years before, he had had mild pain, which he attributed to gas and which stopped if he rested. Since 1970 the pains recurred almost daily, relieved temporarily by Empirin. Yet at every semiannual examination, doctors told him he had the "heart of an athlete of thirty." On August 4 at La Pitchoune, Paul had a series of nosebleeds in the night, perhaps a result of the amount of blood-thinning aspirin he was taking. When he finally told Julia the extent of his pain, she insisted they see the doctor. Now she informed Louisette (who was working on a new cookbook) and others that he was hospitalized "with a slight heart condition." For Paul, the long hospitalization was traumatic and unsettling: 27, 1974, immediately upon their return, Dr. Julian Snyder put Paul in Beth Israel Hospital in Boston. For two weeks they administered angiography, anticoagulant treatment, and medication to slow his heart, trying to determine the extent of his infarction and artery blockage. His heart attack had "crept up on tiny, padded feet, like a field mouse," he later informed Charlie. Five years before, he had had mild pain, which he attributed to gas and which stopped if he rested. Since 1970 the pains recurred almost daily, relieved temporarily by Empirin. Yet at every semiannual examination, doctors told him he had the "heart of an athlete of thirty." On August 4 at La Pitchoune, Paul had a series of nosebleeds in the night, perhaps a result of the amount of blood-thinning aspirin he was taking. When he finally told Julia the extent of his pain, she insisted they see the doctor. Now she informed Louisette (who was working on a new cookbook) and others that he was hospitalized "with a slight heart condition." For Paul, the long hospitalization was traumatic and unsettling: There's a phrase in Nabokov's new book Look at the Harlequins Look at the Harlequins [he wrote Charlie]. It goes like this: "As she opened the door of the hospital room I emitted a bellow of joy, and Reality entered." This describes exactly my sense of pleasure (and nightmares pa.s.sing) when Julia comes into my room at Beth Israel. [he wrote Charlie]. It goes like this: "As she opened the door of the hospital room I emitted a bellow of joy, and Reality entered." This describes exactly my sense of pleasure (and nightmares pa.s.sing) when Julia comes into my room at Beth Israel.

When the doctor asked if they wanted to test a new surgical procedure, Paul and Julia said yes, anything to save his life. Only 5,000 heart bypa.s.ses had been done since the first one in 1967, and only 64 patients, or 1.3 percent, had died. The odds looked good. The surgery was scheduled for October 18, 1974.

"LUCKY TO BE ALIVE"

During the surgery, while veins were taken from his left leg to graft three bypa.s.ses around clogged arteries to his heart and clean out other entrances and exits, Paul had several small strokes. They would only learn this months later, so at the time Julia's spirits were high as she told everyone that "the surgery is a miracle. He is lucky to be alive. If he had not had this operation, he would have been dead."

As the weeks went by and he remained "weak and groggy"-or, as she admitted later, "in a vegetable state"-she kept thinking it was just a slow recovery. She canceled a heavy schedule of fall and winter demonstrations, which also allowed her the time to complete the ma.n.u.script for From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen. When Paul came home on November 24, he was clearly frustrated by his inability to process information. Surprisingly, the doctor gave him no dietary restrictions or any prescribed therapy, saying (according to Julia), "You don't have cholesterol blockages, you obviously diet sensibly." There was no known cause for coronary arteriosclerosis, the doctor informed them. The presence of Abe and Rosie Manell for Thanksgiving cheered them both. But by Christmas, Paul still could not read, and when he tried to write, the words came out scrambled. Neither food nor wine tasted good. And his French was gone.

At the suggestion of her sister Dort, Julia began taking Paul to a speech clinic in February. She described his aphasia to M. F. K. Fisher as comparable to dyslexia. But it was more than reversing letters or words: he was having trouble processing what he heard. For the first time in her letters she mentioned arteriosclerosis and the strokes that caused brain damage during the surgery. He has "scrambled brain trouble," she told her closest friends.

Ever the activist, Julia took charge, installing a costly elevator on the back side of the house to allow Paul to move easily between the bedroom and office floor, the first-floor kitchen, and the bas.e.m.e.nt, where his carpentry tools and wine cellar were located. In May she took him for a week of sun in Bermuda. By April he was able to write a coherent letter to Charlie, but only after several drafts and several hours. At Paul's request, Charlie and Freddie had waited five months to come for their first visit. Paul's pride was hurt (by the devastating results of his strokes), his masculinity and perfectionism frustrated ("I am only half a man," he said). But his willpower was strong and he struggled on, applying those powers of deduction he had a.s.siduously honed all his life. The recovery was slow, and never full. His spark was gone, Julia confided to a few friends.

During all the months of his illness and recovery, Julia worked full days completing her ma.n.u.script, which grew beyond the inclusion of her seventy-two recipes from the new French Chef French Chef television series. From June 1974 until February 1975, she added reminiscences and cooking tips acc.u.mulated over twenty-five years. Narrative sections spoke about her neighborhood shops, her French cooking teacher, chef Max Bugnard, her neighbor "Jean [deSola Pool]" and her English friends "Peter and Mari [Bicknell]." She also hired Judith Jones to help her with editing above and beyond her usual editorial duties. During the summer of 1975, Julia redid the index after receiving the version done by someone who was not a cook. Because Paul could not work his camera or construct any more drawings, she and Judith conferred on using what was already on hand and hiring a photographer to complete a few more. television series. From June 1974 until February 1975, she added reminiscences and cooking tips acc.u.mulated over twenty-five years. Narrative sections spoke about her neighborhood shops, her French cooking teacher, chef Max Bugnard, her neighbor "Jean [deSola Pool]" and her English friends "Peter and Mari [Bicknell]." She also hired Judith Jones to help her with editing above and beyond her usual editorial duties. During the summer of 1975, Julia redid the index after receiving the version done by someone who was not a cook. Because Paul could not work his camera or construct any more drawings, she and Judith conferred on using what was already on hand and hiring a photographer to complete a few more.

Coincidentally, during this first year of Paul's recuperation, Julia revealed to the world she had had a mastectomy six years before. In a serious article about the frequency of this cancer in women, Julia, Betty Ford (the President's wife), Happy Rockefeller (the Vice President's wife), and s.h.i.+rley Temple Black (the movie star turned diplomat), among others, testified that they were still alive and wished other women would carefully examine themselves. Julia's desire to save "even one life" and her natural frankness overcame her Yankee sense of privacy. For the same reason, in October 1977, she would appear in a National Cancer Society fas.h.i.+on show in New York City.

She could not easily retreat from the public arena as Paul would have preferred ("It is very important for Julia," Paul said about the presence of other people). Though she kept the groups small for Paul's sake, the entertaining of friends and reporters continued. Rosemary Manell came to cook, "with her unfailing good humor;" Olney visited on his book tour for Simple French Food Simple French Food (Rosie helped him with his television appearances). Julia remained matter-of-fact about Paul's illness, neither apologetic nor embarra.s.sed. Jim Beard visited with young Carl Jerome (Julia called him James's "acolyte" and was grateful that someone was looking after her dear overweight friend). Beard was as inquisitive and restless as Julia, though Paul had described his arrival at Cannes that previous summer as "ponderous, sweating, panting, walking in short steps on those swollen legs." (Rosie helped him with his television appearances). Julia remained matter-of-fact about Paul's illness, neither apologetic nor embarra.s.sed. Jim Beard visited with young Carl Jerome (Julia called him James's "acolyte" and was grateful that someone was looking after her dear overweight friend). Beard was as inquisitive and restless as Julia, though Paul had described his arrival at Cannes that previous summer as "ponderous, sweating, panting, walking in short steps on those swollen legs."

For the national bicentennial year, Julia and Jim made a pilot television program together in February on American food of the Revolutionary War period, which they hoped would include other cooks in its thirteen segments (they were never able to sell the series). Julia also was deeply involved in the Paris cooking school plans of Anne Willan and her husband, Mark Cherniavsky; upon the advice of their lawyer, Julia and Paul privately agreed to invest $10,000 in their friends' new school, the future La Varenne. Jim and Simca soon followed with $5,000 each.

The frenzied cooking world rushed on around them, with Julia staying close to Paul and planning their book tour. Simca was teaching for two weeks in Rutherford, California; James Beard gave Simca a party in his Greenwich Village home; Julia saw Simca cooking on NBC; Simca's student Peter k.u.mp opened his own cooking school in New York City; Poppy Cannon jumped to her death from her twenty-third-floor apartment in New York City (in 1980, the chronically depressed Jose Wilson would jump to her death into a deep quarry); and Paul's beloved friend Samuel Chamberlain died in Marblehead. Julia kept in touch with triumphs and tragedies by telephone with Jim and by letter to Simca, who since the completion of La Campanette had moved herself and her school from Paris to Bramafam. Julia got caught up momentarily in investigating the issue of nitrates in swordfish and considered teaching with Simca and Anne Willan the following year at the Gritti Palace Hotel in Venice. Plans for the release of her book in the fall continued. It would be a year after Paul's surgery, and he was able to face the inevitable book tour if it had built-in rest and free days. Julia would not consider leaving him to travel alone. He had always expressed disdain for what he called the "geriatric-living syndrome." First she took him for a holiday at the Child cabin in Maine, driving in tandem with the Kublers.

During this period of post-television calm, Julia wrote several articles, including a piece about her Cambridge home for Architectural Digest Architectural Digest and a review of the new and a review of the new Joy of Cooking Joy of Cooking, which she placed first on her list of indispensable cookbooks in English. She informed Architectural Digest Architectural Digest, a Los Angeles-based "slick, clubby ne plus ultra ne plus ultra monthly" (in monthly" (in Newsweek's Newsweek's words), that her Cambridge place "was not grand, just a comfortable working place." words), that her Cambridge place "was not grand, just a comfortable working place." Architectural Digest Architectural Digest added the Irving Street home to the celebrity series that included the homes of Truman Capote, Robert Redford, and Richard Nixon. Doug Dutton of Dutton's Brentwood Bookstore, a noted bookseller and music professor, observed that the Childs' bookcases were only one of two homes shown with a "not bought by the foot" library. added the Irving Street home to the celebrity series that included the homes of Truman Capote, Robert Redford, and Richard Nixon. Doug Dutton of Dutton's Brentwood Bookstore, a noted bookseller and music professor, observed that the Childs' bookcases were only one of two homes shown with a "not bought by the foot" library.

FROM JULIA CHILD'S KITCHEN To launch both the publication of From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen and the founding of Anne Willan's La Varenne cooking school in Paris, she and Paul spent ten days at the Dorset Hotel in New York City. At her own expense, Julia had Rosie Manell and Liz Bishop with her at five demonstrations at regional Bloomingdale's stores and one at Altman. After appearing on and the founding of Anne Willan's La Varenne cooking school in Paris, she and Paul spent ten days at the Dorset Hotel in New York City. At her own expense, Julia had Rosie Manell and Liz Bishop with her at five demonstrations at regional Bloomingdale's stores and one at Altman. After appearing on A.M. America A.M. America and the and the Tomorrow Tomorrow show, they attended a dinner party at Beard's house for Julia and Paul, Jacques Pepin and his mentor Helen McCully, and Mark and Anne Cherniavsky. Finally, she and Jim hosted (and La Varenne paid for) the American launch party for La Varenne at the Four Seasons "to introduce Anne to the Foodie types, and the travel people as well" (she told Simca). La Varenne would open a month later (November 10) in Paris, and Claiborne would be there to cover it for the show, they attended a dinner party at Beard's house for Julia and Paul, Jacques Pepin and his mentor Helen McCully, and Mark and Anne Cherniavsky. Finally, she and Jim hosted (and La Varenne paid for) the American launch party for La Varenne at the Four Seasons "to introduce Anne to the Foodie types, and the travel people as well" (she told Simca). La Varenne would open a month later (November 10) in Paris, and Claiborne would be there to cover it for the New York Times: New York Times: he had made the winning bid on American Express's French meal in any restaurant, money-no-object contest (he and Pierre Franey dined at Chez Denis for $4,000 at American Express's expense). he had made the winning bid on American Express's French meal in any restaurant, money-no-object contest (he and Pierre Franey dined at Chez Denis for $4,000 at American Express's expense).

Published on October 6, 1975, From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen was a beautifully designed book, full of Paul's black-and-white photographs. Filling the t.i.tle page is his photograph of Julia in the window of their first Ma.r.s.eilles apartment, the harbor and boats behind her. The t.i.tle page of each chapter contained a photograph of Ma.r.s.eilles, Provence, or Paris, and most sections began with a memory. The book was dedicated to Ruth Lockwood, her producer, "always steady, even-tempered, able, astute-she has been my ever-loving friend." Ruth was moved to tears. "I went over to Julia's house and stood eye to eye on the stairs and told her what it meant to me." was a beautifully designed book, full of Paul's black-and-white photographs. Filling the t.i.tle page is his photograph of Julia in the window of their first Ma.r.s.eilles apartment, the harbor and boats behind her. The t.i.tle page of each chapter contained a photograph of Ma.r.s.eilles, Provence, or Paris, and most sections began with a memory. The book was dedicated to Ruth Lockwood, her producer, "always steady, even-tempered, able, astute-she has been my ever-loving friend." Ruth was moved to tears. "I went over to Julia's house and stood eye to eye on the stairs and told her what it meant to me."

Instead of the seventy-two French Chef French Chef recipes being presented in chronological order, as was done in recipes being presented in chronological order, as was done in The French Chef Cookbook The French Chef Cookbook, they were organized by category, from soup to cakes (the latter included her Grande Bouffe Grande Bouffe cake with almonds). She put in her French bread recipe, two recipes for madeleines, and the essential sauces and primary dishes from her other three books. Of course, most of the recipes were French-"because that is my training"-but there were also American favorites such as coleslaw, pizza, chicken Kiev, pumpkin soup, and hamburgers. Because 55 percent of the 714-page volume was made up of WGBH material, she gave WGBH 20 percent of the advance ("They put me on the map," she reminded one reporter). cake with almonds). She put in her French bread recipe, two recipes for madeleines, and the essential sauces and primary dishes from her other three books. Of course, most of the recipes were French-"because that is my training"-but there were also American favorites such as coleslaw, pizza, chicken Kiev, pumpkin soup, and hamburgers. Because 55 percent of the 714-page volume was made up of WGBH material, she gave WGBH 20 percent of the advance ("They put me on the map," she reminded one reporter).

Reviewer Bill Rice said she "departed from the professorial tone of earlier works." Her voice is indeed less pedantic, but the text is still thorough, offering full teaching charts on measurements and terminology. She included the use of the Cuisinart for the first time. Part of the informality of the book came from the inclusion of reproduced cartoons by the New Yorker's New Yorker's George Price ("Any word as to the nature of the soupe du jour?" asks one man to another in a charity soup line). She also broke her rule about naming dishes and included George Price ("Any word as to the nature of the soupe du jour?" asks one man to another in a charity soup line). She also broke her rule about naming dishes and included pommes Rosemary, les tartelettes Bugnard pommes Rosemary, les tartelettes Bugnard, and her own Mrs. Child's famous sticky fruitcake. This was her most personal book. She told Mary Frances seven years later that she found it "difficult to be personal" in her writing, but this was "my own favorite book, which is entirely my own, written the way I wanted to do it."

Judith Jones encouraged her to establish her personal voice and include stories such as her encounter with Colette in France. In this volume the voice of Julia clearly speaks to "my fellow cook." This is your own "private cooking school" she told her readers in the introduction, and even the most knowledgeable learned something. "She finally explained the background and theories," says cooking teacher Betty Rosbottom, who adds, "I learned for the first time, for example, the formula for stewing fruits." Julia told Mary Frances, "This is the summation of my 25 years in the kitchen. I have little more to say about anything. I'm writ out, dry," she added. "NO MORE BOOKS!"

She took Paul with her on the tour, for he was uneasy away from her, his mind still scrambled. She had moved from heartbreak to a sense of loss, from an acceptance of the inevitable to a determination to get on with life, no matter what people thought. Those who met Paul for the first time in Minneapolis, Chicago, Cleveland, or Pittsburgh knew only that he was withdrawn and grumpy. The food coordinator at Lipman's department store in Portland, Oregon, remembers Paul sitting in the front row during her demonstrations. Sometimes he sat in on the interviews, though his answers did not always match the question (Julia did not think it mattered).

Her reception in New York City was positive, from appearances on Barbara Walters's Not For Women Only Not For Women Only to Beverly Sills's to Beverly Sills's Lifestyles Lifestyles and the New York Wine and Food Society's "A Gentle Roasting" of Child and Beard at the Hotel Pierre. In and the New York Wine and Food Society's "A Gentle Roasting" of Child and Beard at the Hotel Pierre. In New York New York magazine, Mimi Sheraton (who would soon become the chief restaurant reviewer for the magazine, Mimi Sheraton (who would soon become the chief restaurant reviewer for the New York Times) New York Times) selected fourteen out of the one hundred cookbooks published that year and named selected fourteen out of the one hundred cookbooks published that year and named From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen the best of the fourteen, a list that included Jacques Pepin's splendid the best of the fourteen, a list that included Jacques Pepin's splendid The French Chef Cooks at Home The French Chef Cooks at Home. She praised Julia's "personal [and] no less precise and enticing" book, preferring her new listing of ingredients first. Another reviewer said that Julia was "as elegant as medaillons de porc sautes a la creme medaillons de porc sautes a la creme, and as unpretentious as good ragout." People ragout." People magazine gave her the cover for the first week of December, featuring the thirty-year partners.h.i.+p between Paul and his "wonderfully sensuous" Julia. The magazine gave her the cover for the first week of December, featuring the thirty-year partners.h.i.+p between Paul and his "wonderfully sensuous" Julia. The Was.h.i.+ngton Star Was.h.i.+ngton Star gave her a front-page Q&A (she touted La Varenne), and, closer to home, her butcher sold 400 copies of her book along with his meat. gave her a front-page Q&A (she touted La Varenne), and, closer to home, her butcher sold 400 copies of her book along with his meat.

NOUVELLE CUISINE.

The tone for the tour of From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen was set before the plane tickets were purchased when John Kifner of the was set before the plane tickets were purchased when John Kifner of the New York Times New York Times asked her about the undercooked vegetables of "nouvelle cuisine" now sweeping upscale U.S. restaurant kitchens. Julia pooh-poohed nouvelle cuisine as "just that Paris PR game." The controversy made for good conversation and copy. She could rise to the quotable occasion: "A plate should look like food, not a j.a.panese dinner." And "This food looks fingered. It doesn't look foody to me." When journalists asked about heavy French cooking with sauces, she said they must be talking about French tourist food cooked in starred restaurants. She knew, as did most food people, that nouvelle cuisine was, in one food historian's words, "the apparent culinary equivalent of the sixties miniskirt revolution ... [and] the old food journalism trick of proclaiming their own current project the latest news." The expression "nouvelle cuisine" had been used two hundred years before. In 1975 it meant innovative cooking, lighter sauces, fish and vegetables, decoratively presented smaller portions. asked her about the undercooked vegetables of "nouvelle cuisine" now sweeping upscale U.S. restaurant kitchens. Julia pooh-poohed nouvelle cuisine as "just that Paris PR game." The controversy made for good conversation and copy. She could rise to the quotable occasion: "A plate should look like food, not a j.a.panese dinner." And "This food looks fingered. It doesn't look foody to me." When journalists asked about heavy French cooking with sauces, she said they must be talking about French tourist food cooked in starred restaurants. She knew, as did most food people, that nouvelle cuisine was, in one food historian's words, "the apparent culinary equivalent of the sixties miniskirt revolution ... [and] the old food journalism trick of proclaiming their own current project the latest news." The expression "nouvelle cuisine" had been used two hundred years before. In 1975 it meant innovative cooking, lighter sauces, fish and vegetables, decoratively presented smaller portions.

If there was a conflict, it was conducted largely in the press. After all, Julia knew most of the chefs, and when Bill Rice, the respected food editor of the Was.h.i.+ngton Post Was.h.i.+ngton Post, gathered a group of them together for a dialogue in a French restaurant in Was.h.i.+ngton, DC, on November 8, Julia was glad to partic.i.p.ate. She was on the penultimate stop in her tour, and she met four three-star French chefs (Paul Bocuse, Francois Bise, Alain Chapel, and Louis Outhier) as well as the French and U.S. press. They discussed in French the trends in American and French cooking. Paul recorded that the French chefs "treated Julia with deference." She later wrote to Helen McCully that "we all agreed on everything."

The French chefs denied reports they were "down on Escoffier" (famous himself for lighter if saucy cooking) and concluded that nouvelle cuisine meant freedom to create and to improvise on the fundamentals. No longer would every restaurant in France have on its menu the same dishes with the same names. Reading menus has been a challenge for diners ever since, and Jacques Pepin a.s.serts that "nouvelle cuisine has destroyed the repertoire and nomenclature of French cooking."

In Julia's opinion, the most innovative chef among those in the nouvelle group was the modest Michel Guerard, creator of cuisine minceur cuisine minceur, France's first calorie-counting haute cuisine haute cuisine. Narcisse Chamberlain, who edited Guerard's book for Morrow the next year, brought him and his wife, Christine, to the Childs' for dinner. According to Chamberlain, "Michel and Christine were thunderstruck by Julia," her voice and height and informality. The master of cuisine minceur cuisine minceur (at Eugenie-les-Bains) soon rolled up his sleeves and began cooking with Julia. "It was a howl and they had a fabulous time. The Guerards continued their exhausting book tour as far as California, but nothing matched the Cambridge meal." (at Eugenie-les-Bains) soon rolled up his sleeves and began cooking with Julia. "It was a howl and they had a fabulous time. The Guerards continued their exhausting book tour as far as California, but nothing matched the Cambridge meal."

It was the American press and Gault-Millau's Nouveau Guide de la France Nouveau Guide de la France who polarized the issue of nouvelle cuisine. (Gault-Millau, according to Julia, "browbeat" nonconforming restaurants by awarding red toques to nouvelle chefs and black toques to the old-fas.h.i.+oned traditional holdouts.) The American press's obsession with the "news" of nouvelle cuisine initiated a trend that would persist in culinary journalism: "trend handicapping," Robert Clark called it. As in the fas.h.i.+on world, journalists looked for the latest direction in food preparation and featured its leaders in personality profiles. (The real news story, noted Clark, was the public concern with health, which would emerge in the coming decade.) who polarized the issue of nouvelle cuisine. (Gault-Millau, according to Julia, "browbeat" nonconforming restaurants by awarding red toques to nouvelle chefs and black toques to the old-fas.h.i.+oned traditional holdouts.) The American press's obsession with the "news" of nouvelle cuisine initiated a trend that would persist in culinary journalism: "trend handicapping," Robert Clark called it. As in the fas.h.i.+on world, journalists looked for the latest direction in food preparation and featured its leaders in personality profiles. (The real news story, noted Clark, was the public concern with health, which would emerge in the coming decade.) Troisgros, Guerard, and Fredy Girardet (near Lausanne) were the true innovators, Julia believed. Others have said the late Fernand Point (La Pyramide in Vienne) was the presumed spiritual father (because many of the young chefs had worked for him). Though she credited Bocuse (near Lyons) for elevating the professional profile of the French chef, she said when his book was translated that it was "hardly anything but cla.s.sical cuisine" (indeed, two years later she learned Bocuse had put his own introduction on a dead man's book). Troisgros's book was just "a list of recipes," and only Guerard's book was a good, serious "personal book." The extremes of nouvelle cuisine (Bocuse called them "a big piece of merde" at their Was.h.i.+ngton, DC, meeting, Julia reported to Helen McCully) have been called "kiwi-zine;" Julia said they all steamed things in seaweed. If the converts of nouvelle cuisine ever looked back, wrote Laura Shapiro, "they might see Fannie Farmer, whose pa.s.sion for novelty led her to marshmallows and candied fruit rather than warm liver salad and lemon-flavored fettucini, but whose impact on a generation was no less powerful for that."

Julia made her definitive statement on nouvelle cuisine in New York New York magazine the following year (July 4, 1977), and by explaining its history and the French rating guides, she demonstrated her extensive dining experience in the great restaurants of France. She had scoffed at journalists' descriptions of Bocuse's truffle and foie gras "Dinner of the Century" several years before as being new ("Obviously somebody was pulling somebody's leg"). She had high praise for Guerard and even admitted she loved the experimental new cooking-as she believed Escoffier would. She did not like blood-rare game and undercooked vegetables, which failed to bring out their flavor. And she warned against throwing out "the comfortable old glories" of traditional French dishes. magazine the following year (July 4, 1977), and by explaining its history and the French rating guides, she demonstrated her extensive dining experience in the great restaurants of France. She had scoffed at journalists' descriptions of Bocuse's truffle and foie gras "Dinner of the Century" several years before as being new ("Obviously somebody was pulling somebody's leg"). She had high praise for Guerard and even admitted she loved the experimental new cooking-as she believed Escoffier would. She did not like blood-rare game and undercooked vegetables, which failed to bring out their flavor. And she warned against throwing out "the comfortable old glories" of traditional French dishes.

FEMINISM.

If nouvelle cuisine was the major food topic of the 1970s, a larger controversy long haunting Julia now clearly emerged: feminism. "Women's liberation" had frequently come up in a decade of her interviews with the press, though she never brought up the issue herself. With From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen it surfaced again because she made it clear in her book and interviews that "I it surfaced again because she made it clear in her book and interviews that "I never never have anything to do with housewives." She repeated this caveat again for the have anything to do with housewives." She repeated this caveat again for the New York Times New York Times reporter. Some readers saw this as "anti-woman," deprecating the word "housewives." It was the word Julia disliked, but then so did most feminists. "I have nothing to do with housewives," she said on several occasions. "We never talk about women cooking. It is PEOPLE who like to cook, and we don't care who they are-race, color, s.e.x, animals, ANYBODY," she told a reporter for reporter. Some readers saw this as "anti-woman," deprecating the word "housewives." It was the word Julia disliked, but then so did most feminists. "I have nothing to do with housewives," she said on several occasions. "We never talk about women cooking. It is PEOPLE who like to cook, and we don't care who they are-race, color, s.e.x, animals, ANYBODY," she told a reporter for Dial Dial.

In interviews she denied feeling discriminated against in what then was primarily a man's field, though she admitted that had she "gone into restaurant work," she would have "encountered French male chauvinism." "You know," she told one reporter, "it wasn't until I began thinking about it that I realized my field is closed to women! It's very unfair. It's absolutely restricted! restricted! You can't [teach in] the Culinary Inst.i.tute of America in New York! The big hotels, the fancy New York restaurants, don't want women chefs." You can't [teach in] the Culinary Inst.i.tute of America in New York! The big hotels, the fancy New York restaurants, don't want women chefs."

Camille Paglia would later call Julia Child a prewar feminist like Eleanor Roosevelt. She refused the mantle of "feminist," a.s.suming, as did many women of her generation, that it meant anti-men. And Julia adored men! She always noticed a handsome man and loved to flirt. She was sometimes critical of women, disdaining whining women who were afraid to take risks. One reviewer, misunderstanding feminism, said Julia was "no feminist" because she "unabashedly [gave] her husband credit for her achievement." When she pointed out that there were few women in professional kitchens, she was again characterized as antifeminist. She believed she was merely stating a lamentable fact. She rejoiced in the success of Lydia s.h.i.+re, a Boston chef, and told Simca: "So it shows that women chefs can go places, which is nice to know."

When asked directly in 1985 if she was a feminist, she declined the label (her sister Dort proudly wore it): "No. I'm from a different generation." Yet, as one journalist noted, Julia was the embodiment of feminist achievement and independence. Her friend Charlotte Snyder Turgeon says, "She has always been a nonfeminist, even though she epitomizes them." Helen Civelli Brown said that Julia "is a symbol of women's liberation. Through her own intelligence, wit, and hard work, she rose to the forefront in a field traditionally dominated by men." What Julia seemed to object to was the domination of any group by women, men, or h.o.m.os.e.xuals: "Others will not want to go into it," she observed. "I think Julia opened cooking for women," said Gregory Usher. Corinne Poole, who owns the Giraffe restaurant in British Columbia, says that "Julia inspired me and other young women to open restaurants."

Had Julia cared, she would have openly challenged the so-called women's liberation movement for attacking the women who chose to cook. Women (and men) took up cooking with "a real pa.s.sion" in the early 1970s, says John Mariani, but then "the Women's Liberation Movement shamed their sisters out of the kitchen and into the workforce." It was not just the feminists, of course, for as one anthropologist a.s.serts, "Western philosophers have persistently ignored-or marginalized-one of the most common and pervasive sources of value in human experience-our relations with food."

When the San Francisco Examiner San Francisco Examiner put the question directly to a dozen famous women in 1975, Julia admitted, "I guess I am liberated," pointing out that she was of her own free choice doing what she wanted and loved. "You'd call ours a liberated marriage," she added, and "my hat is off to the movement." put the question directly to a dozen famous women in 1975, Julia admitted, "I guess I am liberated," pointing out that she was of her own free choice doing what she wanted and loved. "You'd call ours a liberated marriage," she added, and "my hat is off to the movement."

California beckoned for the last two weeks of her book tour in the fall of 1975: visiting the Gateses as well as niece Rachel and her husband, Anthony Prud'homme, in Pasadena, staying with Dort and Ivan in San Francisco, driving to M. F. K.'s house for lunch, and signing books at Williams-Sonoma before flying to Portland for more of the same. Pamela Henstell, on her first job with Knopf publicity for the West Coast, remembers Paul's "big stopwatch" and him sitting "in the very front row ... startling the people around him" by calling out the time. Henstell testifies that Julia "is the least egocentric author I have ever dealt with."

Two years after Paul's surgery and strokes, Julia accepted with resignation that Paul would not recover from his mental confusion and would always need to rest and avoid large groups. One neurologist told her to "keep on living a normal life," and she knew she needed to keep promoting her books to keep the income flowing (a fact she always mentioned to Simca). But she had lost her vital and independent partner, her confidant and guide. The resulting loneliness, which would eventually push her toward a frenetic professional pace, initially led to a retreat. Because she wanted a break for herself as well, she took Paul in mid-December 1975 to Paris and Provence for three months. Indeed, she would have him away from Cambridge for most of 1976. She called it her sabbatical ("We have been on deadline for fifteen years!!"). She was not planning a book or a television series, and she gave up (only temporarily, as it turned out) writing features for McCall's McCall's.

EUROPEAN SABBATICAL.

The five days in Paris in the middle of December 1975 meant dining at Archestrate and Prunier-Duphot, attending a Gourmettes luncheon, and, most important, checking on her personal and financial investment in La Varenne ("so unlike the nastiness of the Cordon Bleu," she wrote to several friends). She saw the school, which she said was "warm and earthy and professional," as a place for weekly gatherings of foodies in the Paris world, and she freely gave her advice. During several interviews in the year since the school had opened, she gave it repeated positive mention and endors.e.m.e.nt. But in all the years she dropped in, she only met informally with the students; she never gave demonstrations.

La Varenne used a variety of French chefs, most connected with Sofitel (a Fr