Julia, Betsy, and Moi

I finally watched Julie and Julia this weekend. It was, literally, great food for thought; the Julia sections, which focus on Julia Child, were inspiring. Meryl Streep's depiction of her is completely endearing; I didn't know before that Julia was such a lover of food and of life, with an infectious enthusiasm and positive attitude. It was easy for me to identify with parts of her story; like Julia, I loved living in France and tried hard to soak up what was good about French life.

I am also now the same age as Julia when she arrived in France. It was a turning point in her life, when she turned her love for food into a calling. She had been an accomplished foreign service agent and a loving wife, but it only when she applied herself professionally to her passion that she found her greatest success and fulfillment. It is fitting that her awakening happened in a country where cake can symbolize a revolution and a cookie can inspire classic literature.

I am also a fan of French cuisine, although my dietary restrictions (no red meat), slight squeamishness (I will not be deboning any ducks), and sweet tooth have focused my interest on desserts, and to pastries in particular. There is nothing like French pastry. Other countries may try, others don't bother (looking at you, Hungary), but nothing beats la pâtisserie française.

Watching Julie and Julia, I was inspired to try one of Julia's pastry recipes. I grabbed my laptop and was searching for her classic Mastering the Art of French Cooking on Amazon when I remembered the stack of cookbooks we inherited from my late mother-in-law. I ran to the cupboard and returned with a worn 1967 edition just as Julia/Meryl Streep was excitedly unwrapping her first edition on screen. It brought tears to my eyes as I held the same book in my hands, and thought of the three women involved in this moment.

For Julia, the book was the culmination of years of hard work, as well as the embodiment of her love of France, her talent, and the support of her adoring husband.

I wondered about my mother-in-law, Betsy, whom I never met. I assume that Betsy bought the book (the $10 price tag from Dayton's is still affixed to the cover) in an effort to please herself and her young family. Just like me, she optimistically reached out for this cookbook to experience something new and wonderful. The book is only slightly worn, so I'm guessing that practicality usually won over culinary ambition -- raising four children doesn't leave much time for gourmet cooking -- though the only handwritten notes I've found so far are modifications for Lobster Thermidor in her neat, penciled script. Her lobster effort underscores what I already knew -- Betsy was not intimidated by a challenge.

For my part, I had arrived at this book thanks to both of these predecessors, inspired by one and enabled by the other. How striking to hold a double legacy in my hands - evidence of their hope, work, and determination.

It is profoundly sad to have to get to know someone by the clues they left behind, yet I count myself lucky to be held up and pushed forward by these two amazing women, even after they are gone.