Something funny happened to me this year. It seems I discovered the joy of eating and preparing meals. Oddly enough, it wasn’t supposed to happen yet. I know of friends who move to faraway places or leave home and are forced to cook. Hello Mela and Sarah! 🙂 Hunger, which I’m told is the best motivation, made cooks out of my friends and just thinking about that makes me a little jealous. Is independence really measured by the distance you live away from your parents? If it is then I doubt if I’d ever be independent. Let’s face it, the only time I’ll ever muster the courage to leave home is if I get that boring yet high paying job that can support two families with pets. Unfortunately, I find that I’m not inclined to said job but hey, give it a year or two right?
In the meantime, there’s hunger and there’s fate. Both forces are equally compelling me to create something…cooking is the art and baking the science, so Anton says to me over phone and it becomes clear what I’m doing. Could the medium for all this poetry that cannot find its bearings in the alphabet really be found in the food instead? That’s one thing I’d like to know.
Just the other day a friend lent me her copy of that movie Julie & Julia which I carelessly disregarded and shelved thinking I’d do something else first. Then all of a sudden, that same friend of mine found me in the grocery last night and offered me a ride home. On her way home she messaged me saying, “Watch Julie & Julia tonight.” I said yes, came home from a night out and decided, oh hell, let’s watch this and see what it’s about.
Now I have to say: you must watch Julie & Julia. French means so much more to me now. I used to want it only for Saint-Exupery and the poetry but now I’ve discovered films and the taste of French cuisine. Wow. Mind-blowing.
But yes, I’m now reading Julie Powell’s book. 🙂 Awesome, awesome! Hopefully this weekend I’ll manage to make time for some potato soup with leeks. Can’t wait!