My Life in France


I had a horrific excursion to IKEA the other week where I waited in line after line to select, pay for, and schedule a delivery of new furniture. Of course, I knew going into it that IKEA on a Saturday is like shopping in a mosh pit, so I brought along a book to pass the time. I kid you not – I actually finished the entire book. Julia Child’s My Life in France is only 353 pages, but that should give you an idea of time I invested in this trip. It took me a bit to get into the book, but once I got used to the straight forward, somewhat abrupt writing style, I really enjoyed it. I share Julia’s love for cooking, and for French culture. I don’t always have  the time or the kitchen space to try out detailed recipes, but I do what I can. There’s something restful about coming home from a long day of work and chopping onions, sauteing vegetables, and creating delicious smells and textures. What’s especially inspiring is that Julia didn’t really get into cooking until her late 30s, and look how talented she was. There’s still hope for me. 🙂

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