Alex Prud'homme

I've just finished read this book and I feel a little like crying, the way one might when saying goodbye to a dear and much enjoyed friend after a raucous and hilarious long weekend somewhere, knowing you might not see that friend again. I really enjoyed reading this book and am somewhat sad to be at the end of it already.

My interest in French cuisine is minimal, so I've not read any of Child's cook books. I do remember seeing many episodes of her TV show through the years. Really, I was show more inspired to check out this book because a friend had me watch the movie Julie and Julia, and I was so taken with the Julia Child segments that I wanted to know more. In this book, I found what I had hoped.

This is a personal guided tour through Child's discovery of her "spiritual home" and the adventures that came to her because of that discovery. She's honest but generous, friendly without being gushing, enthused without overwhelming bias. To pull out an old, disused word, she's affable. She's amiable. She's a good talker, fun to listen to, with interesting things to say and a sense of humor about it all. She's an optimist, the gloss of which shines up what you know are dark moments for her and which probably buoyed her up through her many years of travel, learning, frustration and work. The view of France she creates is, in my opinion, filtered entirely through the kind of person she was. The book is exactly what the title advertises, and that life in France is worth reading about. show less

Julia Child's memoir of her years in France, her marriage with Paul Child, and her experiences starting the PBS sensation that was The French Chef.

I adored every second of this memoir. Julia Child is such a wonderfully charming personality and she comes to brilliant life in the pages of this book. Her descriptions of her life in France will make anyone anxious to travel abroad, her descriptions of food are positively scrumptious, and her reflections on her life with Paul are very sweet. A show more fantastic feel-good read. Highly recommended. show less

A very rose-coloured glasses look on life - through diplomatic postings and local culinary dishes - in post-WII Western Europe and the US.

I can't tell if Child truly was that open and optimistic or if she really had such a charmed life. Upper middle class upbringing, diplomatic posts around Europe, with all the networking that comes with it, making connections that would eventually come in handy for her culinary aspirations. Arguably the most important connection she ever made was with her show more super-supportive and super-handy husband Paul: what a gorgeous partnership.

With its easygoing prose and the laissez-faire attitude of Child (except when she's writing her famed cooking bible - which was conceived by two other friends who seemed to have paled into the background after Child joined the project -, then she's an eagle-eyed dictator/businesswoman), this was very much a fairytale recount of her rise to culinary heights. And just like all the dishes described, the book itself was a delight and leaves one hungry for more.

I would love to read more about just Julia and Paul's marriage, and in particular about Paul's role. There's something about famous couplings where more often than not, one is famous for their work, and the other is famous for being the muse/support. It fascinates me, especially when it's a man who is in the muse/support role (looking at you Leonard Woolf). I also just want a photobook of Paul's works, the ones in this book were gorgeously composed. show less

Heavenly inspiration! I want to be just like Julia Child, not for her cooking but for her enthusiasm for life. She doesn't know things and isn't afraid to ask (huge failing of mine), and when she sets about learning things she does so whole-heartedly. Not just with cooking - she didn't learn to cook a drop until she was 36!! - but in art and world affairs and foreign cultures. Truly, she seems to have said yes to living life, and I think she would have been the best of fun to know.

My show more favorite bit of advice: "I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-depreciations such as "Oh, I don't know how to cook...," or "Poor little me..," or "This may taste awful..." it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings), and make the other person think, "Yes, you're right, this really IS an awful meal!" Maybe the cat has fallen into the stew, or the lettuce has frozen, or the cake has collapsed - eh bien, tant pis!" (p. 77). show less