Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Muttering the Art of French…

You know how some movies can change your life for a while? Like Psycho, Fatal Attraction, and Rocky? I remember seeing Sylvester Stallone’s movie in 1976 and leaving the theater with an exuberant, fighting spirit, punching the air like someone who’d lost her marbles. I feel as if I become part of the film. Not even a shower can get it off. Especially not a shower.

My daughter would much rather watch Sarah, Plain and Tall with me than True Lies. I scream and jump and emote all over the place. I’m a mess at the theater too. By film’s end, I’m the only one left.

I just saw Julie & Julia and feel my energy still simmering. Meryl Streep portrayed Julia Child and her lively, loving spirit beautifully. She reminded me of my Nana, who was one of the most positive people I knew. She could find something good in everyone. Everyone. She’d probably say that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad just had a hard childhood, and he’s harboring an old wound because his mother always made him eat all his Ghaliye Mahi, and he never liked the smell of fish. Poor little guy.

Until she was four, Nana spoke only French and was eventually known for her excellent cooking and elegant dinner parties. So seeing Julie & Julia started a fire burning in my little French oven and stirred an ancestral desire to become better at giving others a most basic need.

A Renault. No, food, really. The way Julia prepared her dishes was akin to carnal accretion. Just watching her stir tantalized the imagination and taste buds. There was a lot of finger licking in the movie. I had already been on a cooking roll, and the movie kicked me into fourth gear.

I stocked up on butter, heavy cream, fresh vegetables, and French ed books. My friend came over with her handmade recipe books, greeting me with a joyful “Bon Appétit!” and we started planning a dinner party.

We’ll prepare chicken and vegetables in parchment, a fabulous rice dish, and lemon fluff…or is it fluffy lemons…or lemony fluffers? Oh, I can’t remember, but I’m sure all our guests will say, “Wee!”

I mean, “Oui.”

If anyone understands my strange comments, let me know, and if you like it, link it!
http://auntieeartha.blogspot.com/2010/02/muttering-art-of-french.html

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