I’m timid and meek like Dorothy Gale (even if no-one believes that confession when I make it), but I’ve had enough people tell me to blog that I’ve given into the inevitable.  I like to eat and I like to drink and cooking and mixing are the means to that particular end, so this blog is probably going to focus on all the things one puts in ones mouth, but I suppose I can make it about whatever I want…

Why did I choose the name of my blog? The influence of Julia Child upon the culinary culture of America is ubiquitous in 2012 and Her own personal influence upon me will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me.

This blog is not an attempt to come to an end of any kind.  I am second to no-one in my respect for Julie Powell, but I have no desire to enter the world of aspics or boned and stuffed duck, and I choose to view the dogma of Mastering the Art of French Cooking selectively.  The Way to Cook is my own apocrypha, and I appreciate its master recipes and suggestions of the cooks’ own itnerpretations.

If I impart a sense of devotion to Julia, it is certainly because I feel it: She is the saint of second beginnings, She is to the kitchen what Atticus Finch is to the courtroom, what Amelia Earhart is to aviation, and what Muhammad Ali is to boxing. Were it up to me, Julia would be beatified, but I am simply a happy heretic.

Most importantly, I think that Julia’s influence and philosophy can be applied outside the kitchen, She has famously stated that “[y]ou must have the courage of your convictions…” and this is profound, whether you are flipping a potato galette or deciding how to vote or what bourbon to buy for your mint julep.

Julia also informs us that it’s okay to fail, She tells us that it’s the only way to learn. So, I say, do what you want to do; I believe in no dogma outside Mastering (’cause you need to follow that to the letter, except for the Tarte Tatin)and I have my own holy trinity–please refer to my earlier admission of heresy–and it’s a trinity of Js:  Julia Child, Judy Garland, and Joanna Rowling. None of them profess perfection, and all of them embrace the frailty of humanity. So, I say, do what you want, what makes you happy–don’t fuck other people over–and, above all, don’t be afraid of butter.

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