Hello dear fellows,
I'm just downloading some "Big Poppa" from the iTunes Music Store and enjoying my newly tudor-stained ikea computer desk. You see, I've had this piece of lumber for years, I suppose since Chicago, and have left it bare so that it could soak up just the right combination of dust and smudgey fingerprints. And now it's dark like my favorite chocolate and glistening in its poly-glow.
(I'm clapping my hands together.)
Tonight I'm having my first dinner guests. I've rallied the new Houston folk and even scotch-taped a cuban postcard on my neighbors' door, beckoning them to come 'round for the folly. As a cook, I felt sorrow at Julia Child's passing the past weekend. And I thought of The Julie/Julia Project. A woman my sister-in-law knows fairly well started her own blog awhile back with the intention of cooking her way through Julia Child's "The Art of French Cooking" one recipe a night for the duration of one year. It's quite a fantastic story, for those of you who don't know it. She's just a regular gal like you or me. She started. She cooked, and she wrote in her blog-diary about it each and every day. Turns out the LA Times, The New York Times, and the CBS Evening News liked her style. There's that sort of six-degrees-of-separation kind of talk about book deals and movies. I don't have any of that straight. But the story is real.
So I was wondering what Julie would have to say about Julia's passing. Here it is. Bon appetit.