DINNER WITH JULIA CHILD

Despite what this little piece may have said, I'm not sure that Santa really delivered a Julia Child cookbook to our house. Wouldn't I still have it? Wouldn't one of you have it? Not necessarily but, wouldn't I remember it? I would have been terribly intimidated by it. I think. Unless it's only now that intimidation tends to creep in when it comes to dinner time.. Maybe Katie lent me a Julia Child cookbook. She would have whipped that Coq au Vin together without a drop of sweat. I always envied that talent. Oh well, whatever the reason, this is the story:

"I would hate to point a finger at my children and say they were fussy eaters, but the only meal I've seen them consume without complaint was last year during flu season when their father served them pretzels, ice cream and chocolate chip cookies for dinner.

For example: Last Christmas Santa Claus left Julia Child's "French Chef Cookbook" in my stocking. Remembering from pictures that most French kids are smiling, pink cheeked and chubby, I figured this was the answer to our problem. So I searched the book and came up with a winner: Coq au Vin.

After spending the better part of the afternoon on this masterpiece--not to mention re-painting the kitchen when the cognac flames scorched the wall--I served dinner.

'What's that stuff?' asked Kristi as I put it on the table.

'Looks yucky,' said Mickie.

'Heathens,!' I answered. 'This is Coq au Vin--one of the most famous French dishes.'

'That doesn't look like Coke to me.'

'There's a dead chicken in there.'

'What did you expect, dum-dum, a live chicken?' asked Denise.

'Coq au Vin.' I said again. 'Chicken in wine--a red wine. A very cheap red wine,' I hurried on as Darrell gave me his "How are we gonna pay for the farm if you cook with wine?' look.

As I returned with the rice, buttered peas and French bread--all Julia Child specifications--the reaction was much the same.

'Rice! Yech! I hate rice!'

'I like rice with sugar and milk.'

'Peas! How many do we hafta eat?'

'Bread! That's the only thing I like.'

'Not that kind. It's all crusty.'

'And, now kids,' I said. 'True to French tradition, we'll have a little wine with dinner. But, if anybody spills the beans at school about wine with dinner, I'll kill her. Got that??'

'OK kids,' said Darrell as he grabbed for the peas. 'Daddy's gonna take six peas-that's the magic number for tonight.'

'Darrell,' I said between clenched teeth and a big smile. 'You're not helping.'

'Mama,' tattled Mickie. 'Kristi only took five peas and she's gotta take six.'

'Wait a minute,' cried Denise. 'One, two, three, four., five, six, seven. I've gotta put a pea back--I took one too many!'

'Anyone for rice?' I asked.

'Can I have milk and sugar with it?' asked Kristi.

'No! Not with this meal. You want to put Julia Child in an early grave? Bread anyone??'

"Yech--it's all crusty.'

'It's supposed to be that way,' I answered. 'It's French bread.'

'There's a mushroom in this stuff. I hate mushrooms.'

'A mushroom! Mama, you said mushrooms were poison.'

'Only the ones in the back yard. These are straight off the grocer's shelf.'

'I don't like soggy chicken.'

'There's a leaf in here. What if it's got an elm tree bug on it?'

'That's a bay leaf,' I sighed.'

'Hey Mama, can we have some more wine?'

'No!'

'But it's the only thing that's good.'

'Ah...' I said. 'So that's why French kids are smiling, rosy cheeked and chubby.'

'So anyway, Santa...do me a favor, OK? No more cookbooks, please. But, do you think you could dig up last April's copy of Cosmopolitan?'

Well, that's a surprise. I did not expect that last line as I was typing away at this piece. The fabled copy of "Cosmopolitan" of April 1972! Only old people would remember that. I'm sure I never bought a copy, but I might have seen someone else's. I'm just not sure. It was--which you may have heard about--the first male centerfold in a magazine designed for women. I looked that up and sure enough I saw the picture of Burt Reynolds. It truly was scandalous at the time. The text that accompanied the updated Cosmo "look back"is great...

"Reynolds stretches across two full pages of the April 1972 issue of Cosmopolitan. He's got a smirk on his face, a limp cigarillo dangles from his lips and a fuzzy bearskin rug is underneath his also fuzzy body. His arm is strategically placed in front of his 'talleywacker' as Reynolds later called it..."

As scandalous as that whole affair was, it seems terribly tame now. But, he was hot back in the day...

September 11, 2019