Julia Child Is The Hero We All Need

Over these last several weeks, my priorities have gotten pretty simple. I really only have two: stay [mostly] sane, and eat enough food each day to keep me alive until the next day arrives. Easy, right? You’d think so, but it turns out I need help with both. Thankfully, television has swooped in with the answer. My hero, my head coach, my culinary therapist-in-chief, is the one and only Julia Child. I started watching her classic show The French Chef a couple of weeks ago, and I’m convinced she’s the beacon of awesomeness we all need right now. Why? I’ll tell you why.

  1. Julia Child is the least full of shit person I have ever seen on television—a true blessing during a time when our collective bullshit meter is just about TAPPED OUT. She tells it fully, unrepentantly as it is, on matters culinary and otherwise. And she’s not shy about her opinions, either. In an episode titled “Bringing In The New Year” (S2E4), she shows us a small rolling pin she bought at her favorite hardware store*, and then, proclaiming “This is a toy!”, she slams it into the garbage can—with force, guys. She goes on to explain that she wanted viewers at home to understand that small rolling pins are (and I’m slightly paraphrasing here, but I think she’d approve) totally worthless and should never be used by anyone, ever, for any purpose, let alone baking. This is my kind of woman. The fact that she has no discernable agenda other than stating facts and hyping your own ability to cook tasty French food makes her seem trustworthy and reliable, two qualities that are a major plus during a crisis.

*Side note, a hardware store that also sells cookware? It’s the most quaint thing I’ve heard all day. Julia mentions buying all sorts of things at hers, from the notorious trash pin to roasting pans, cutting boards, kitchen twine, and handy tools of every kind. Do you have one where you live? I don’t, and I’m incredibly jealous of you if you do.

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Bread = Life

Extremely exciting coronavirus update: I BOUGHT YEAST! Can you believe it? Me, an unassuming, regular person who spends her days doing normal, regular-person things—I am in possession of one of the most valuable substances on Earth. As I write this, yeast is worth its weight in diamonds, gold, and solar panels combined. Yeast is the cool but homely high school girl in the movies who no one pays attention to, until one day she takes off her glasses and puts on a tank top, or in this case, a deadly virus strikes, and suddenly everyone is all, I MUST HAVE HER. And obviously yeast is flattered, but she’s also like, hello? I’ve been here leavening your baked goods for a solid 5,000 years. Maybe this is a lesson in appreciating what’s been in front of you all along? And she’s absolutely right. We’ve been fools, yeast. You are an enduring beauty, deserving of our mindful appreciation. Also, will you go to the (virtual) prom with us?

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