TRANSITIONS.

For each of the three winters after Paul's strokes, they spent a few weeks in California. During the obligatory visit to Pasadena and her stepmother, Julia mulled over her career options with an infirm husband who once carried half the burden of travel and project preparation. As they moved slowly up the coast, the Childs reveled in the isolated beauty of Santa Barbara, especially the San Ysidro Ranch. Proceeding north, they took Simca to meet Mary Frances on her ranch. Also, they met d.i.c.k Graff, who with his brother Peter owned the Chalone Winery in Northern California. Shirley Sarvis, a food writer for Sunset Sunset magazine and a friend of both Julia and Richard, set up the meal, pairing the wine and food, and the Childs were "so tremendously impressed with [d.i.c.k's] wines." Julia told a journalist that "the older we get the more American we get." magazine and a friend of both Julia and Richard, set up the meal, pairing the wine and food, and the Childs were "so tremendously impressed with [d.i.c.k's] wines." Julia told a journalist that "the older we get the more American we get."

Paul Child, the poet and semanticist, now struggled for lost words, so it was particularly poignant that his book of poems, many of them addressed to his beloved Julia, was finally published. Bubbles from the Spring Bubbles from the Spring was privately printed in 1976, and was privately printed in 1976, and The New York Times Magazine The New York Times Magazine printed four of the poems on its endpaper on May 16. First was his birthday poem of 1961, opening "O Julia, Julia, Cook and nifty wench," and concluding "O luscious dish! O gustatory pleasure! / You satisfy my taste-buds beyond measure." The fourth poem was "The disgraced orifice" and referred to Julia's mouth, "made for other lips to press, for love," which made such weird noises when confronted with food: "squawks ... twittering coos ... groaning." printed four of the poems on its endpaper on May 16. First was his birthday poem of 1961, opening "O Julia, Julia, Cook and nifty wench," and concluding "O luscious dish! O gustatory pleasure! / You satisfy my taste-buds beyond measure." The fourth poem was "The disgraced orifice" and referred to Julia's mouth, "made for other lips to press, for love," which made such weird noises when confronted with food: "squawks ... twittering coos ... groaning."

Many factors contributed to the Childs' final transition back to the United States, foremost being Paul's disability, which slowed down her pace of work. They struggled with the decision for months before Julia had a sense of turning a corner. Hiring Elizabeth Bishop to bring order to her Cambridge office seemed to signal a new level of acceptance of Paul's condition. Soon they were housecleaning and discarding clothes (including many of Julia's size 12A shoes-bought simply because they were the right size): most significantly, they boxed up books and letters-all her correspondence with Simca, Mary Frances, and others-and sent them to the Schlesinger Library, where Julia hoped to add to the best collection of culinary historical books and doc.u.ments. She kept the books she needed for reference. She also bought a Dictaphone (insisting Simca do the same) and hired a new secretary to alternate days with Gladys.

Adding to her discomfort was the fact that Julia was between books and television programs. Just a year earlier she told a journalist she did not want to do any more television. "It's gotten much more expensive to do, and it involves a 12-hour day and a 7-day week, and we've had it." Yet by the spring of 1977, persuaded by the promise of a slower pace and a new format, Julia had agreed to do a new series. Russ Morash would come back as her producer, Ruth Lockwood (recently widowed) would be her personal manager, they would shoot one episode a week on a permanent stage, and she would move out of what she called "the straitjacket of French cuisine."

"May we go out like rockets, rather than delayed fuses!" she had written Simca three years before. Thus, she planned her reentry by taking Paul to Europe to enjoy La Pitchoune, plan menus for the new series, undertake a diet, and have what Paul called a little facial "touch-up." The plastic surgery, suggested by her producer, occurred amid worries about Freddie Child's health. Erica had called from Maine on June 10 with news that her mother had a heart attack but was rallying. Because Paul had had dental work and Julia's face was still a little swollen by mid-July, they delayed their flight home one more week. They had just walked in the door of their Cambridge home on Sat.u.r.day, July 23, when the call came from Maine: a second heart attack had proved fatal. They took the plane to Bangor that night for private weeping and six quiet days with the family. On Thursday they offered Freddie's ashes to the rocks and waves off Lopaus Point.

After fifty years of marriage, Charlie Child was devastated. So were Paul and Julia, who also worried about what would happen to Charlie, who was losing his sight. (After Freddie's memorial service three months later in Pennsylvania, Charlie threw away his paints and stopped writing letters.) Freddie's death would bring Julia closer to Rachel and Erica. But she handled this death as she had the loss of her grandparents and parents (and a dozen relatives during her youth), by an emotional outpouring and then determinedly getting on with the life ahead. Julia had lost a beloved sister-in-law; all the more reason, she knew, to keep working. On October 25, after returning from Lopaus Point, she walked into her studio kitchen to begin rehearsals for Julia Child & Company Julia Child & Company.

Chapter 23.

THE C COMPANY S SHE K KEEPS.

(1977 1980) "As soon as you're off television, in a few months n.o.body will know who you are ..."

JULIA CHILD, January 1980

THE MECHANICAL pea sh.e.l.ler was attached to a portable mixer. When Julia turned it on, the shiny machine began shooting the fresh peas out one side and the discarded pea pods out the other. Pop, pop, pop. It was hilarious, yet no more efficient than sh.e.l.ling the peas by hand. As Julia knew, however, it was a great visual for the television camera, and she loved gadgets. "We have to have fun on this show sometimes!" she told Mary Frances Fisher. Julia had a flair for antic.i.p.ation and, as one journalist would say, gave the impression of "a child who can hardly wait." pea sh.e.l.ler was attached to a portable mixer. When Julia turned it on, the shiny machine began shooting the fresh peas out one side and the discarded pea pods out the other. Pop, pop, pop. It was hilarious, yet no more efficient than sh.e.l.ling the peas by hand. As Julia knew, however, it was a great visual for the television camera, and she loved gadgets. "We have to have fun on this show sometimes!" she told Mary Frances Fisher. Julia had a flair for antic.i.p.ation and, as one journalist would say, gave the impression of "a child who can hardly wait."

GOING AMERICAN WITH.

THE PERSIAN CIRCUS.

Julia Child & Company was filmed in 197778, and was filmed in 197778, and Julia Child & More Company Julia Child & More Company in 197980. After five years away from a television series, Julia was "getting back in harness again," as she described it to several friends. She made both series as much fun as she could, both behind and in front of the camera. But the giggles provoked by the mechanical pea sh.e.l.ler (for the show "Chafing Dish Dinner") belied the complicated hard work behind the scenes. in 197980. After five years away from a television series, Julia was "getting back in harness again," as she described it to several friends. She made both series as much fun as she could, both behind and in front of the camera. But the giggles provoked by the mechanical pea sh.e.l.ler (for the show "Chafing Dish Dinner") belied the complicated hard work behind the scenes.

Julia upped the ante on these two series, in terms of concept and of cost. According to Russ Morash, producer of both shows: "She insisted on rehearsal days in the studio (the economics of it should not be overlooked, for every minute was costly). To give her what she needed, we went to a warehouse so the set would not have to be taken down. We built a studio kitchen at 495 Western Avenue [across from where the Star Market is today]." The kitchen was blue, green, and white-the colors of her own kitchen. They also built a ready room with a preparatory kitchen. Julia and her crew could walk in any day and begin cooking, saving the two hours for setup and the two hours for dismantling. Initially the new studio and the new equipment were leased for only thirteen shows, eight filmed at the end of 1977 and five the following year, and they would film only one program a week, not the two or four episodes they were accustomed to shooting in previous series. Three of these thirteen, in shorter version, went into her monthly column for McCall's McCall's.

Robert J. Lurtsema, a friend of Paul and the measured, orotund voice of cla.s.sical music on public radio, wrote the theme music for the series. It was "all ba.s.soons, which sounds like an elephant walking," according to Julia.

Julia remade her persona from the French Chef into the Elegant Hostess. This series focused on the dining room and a full menu, unlike any series or book she had done before, but similar in one regard to Simca's Cuisine Simca's Cuisine ("An Alsatian Supper"). In the "Chafing Dish" menu, for example, the first course was sliced fresh artichoke bottoms and raw marinated scallops with fresh tomato fondue; the main dish was steak Diane (with those bouncing peas); and dessert was a chocolate mousse cake consisting of a pound of chocolate, six eggs, a half cup of sugar, and one cup of whipped cream. She informed Mary Frances that the cake was ("An Alsatian Supper"). In the "Chafing Dish" menu, for example, the first course was sliced fresh artichoke bottoms and raw marinated scallops with fresh tomato fondue; the main dish was steak Diane (with those bouncing peas); and dessert was a chocolate mousse cake consisting of a pound of chocolate, six eggs, a half cup of sugar, and one cup of whipped cream. She informed Mary Frances that the cake was gateau Victoire au chocolat, mousseline gateau Victoire au chocolat, mousseline, but for her viewers it was a flat chocolate cake decorated with whipped cream.

In this series, the t.i.tles of dishes were in English and she would have, she informed Simca, "a lot of plain old American cooking-like corned beef hash, corn timbale, coleslaw, roast beef, Boston baked beans, and New England fish chowder." She was "out of the French straitjacket," but putting her French techniques to use in making creative variations on American dishes. Of course, the foundation recipes (such as the sauces) did not change, and there were some French dishes, such as chocolate truffles and coulibiac coulibiac (sole in (sole in choux choux pastry). pastry).

The ambitious concept of presenting an entire meal for guests on a special occasion-"Buffet for 19," "New England Potluck Supper," "Dinner for the Boss"-was matched by money and a large crew of volunteers. Co-producer Ruth Lockwood was her "collaborator and colleague," performing all the duties she always did for Julia personally as producer, but, she said, "without the ultimate responsibility, which is what I did not want." Rosemary Manell came from the San Francisco area and moved in with Julia and Paul. She was, in Julia's words, "a marvel of cookery, workery, good humor, and everyone warms to her and loves her." Elizabeth Bishop headed a group of six to eight volunteers who "did prep," preparing food and washing dishes. In addition, there were Julia's elderly secretary, Gladys, a makeup artist, and two office managers, including Avis DeVoto.

Julia personally hired Rosie and Liz, who were her best buddies, both of whom had uncontrollable wit and appet.i.tes-Rosie for food and Liz for drink. Julia, who had put on weight after Paul's operation, had taken off fifteen pounds in Provence. She hoped to stay on her diet along with Rosie, who had arrived thirty pounds lighter (with that many more to go). "[Rosie has] a terrible duel with appet.i.te and she is, as you say, a compulsive eater, as am I," Julia confided to Mary Frances in September. "If there is anything in sight anywhere I'll eat it unless I most sternly and with supreme willpower and reasoning turn from it."

The second series (More Company) (More Company) included the same crew, with the addition of two young women: Marian Morash, the wife of Russ, and Sara Moulton, chef at a Boston catering company. (Neither woman knew the other was hired until they both showed up on the set.) Sara looked like a small teenager. After graduating second in a cla.s.s of 450 from the Culinary Inst.i.tute of America, she worked for several years in restaurants and wanted to leave catering. Both women, along with Rosie, were hired by Julia to help her with creative menu ideas. Marian worked three days, Sara two (the other five at a restaurant nearby). With the six or eight volunteers and everyone jealous for Julia's attention, it was soon evident Julia had to decide the pecking order. Characteristically, she gave everyone an executive position. Elizabeth Bishop was Executive a.s.sociate, Marian Morash Executive Chef, Sara Moulton a.s.sociate Executive Chef, and Rosemary Manell Food Stylist. Patricia (Pat) Pratt was in charge of buying and arranging the flowers for the dining-room table and the set (which Russ always thought was "too flowery"). included the same crew, with the addition of two young women: Marian Morash, the wife of Russ, and Sara Moulton, chef at a Boston catering company. (Neither woman knew the other was hired until they both showed up on the set.) Sara looked like a small teenager. After graduating second in a cla.s.s of 450 from the Culinary Inst.i.tute of America, she worked for several years in restaurants and wanted to leave catering. Both women, along with Rosie, were hired by Julia to help her with creative menu ideas. Marian worked three days, Sara two (the other five at a restaurant nearby). With the six or eight volunteers and everyone jealous for Julia's attention, it was soon evident Julia had to decide the pecking order. Characteristically, she gave everyone an executive position. Elizabeth Bishop was Executive a.s.sociate, Marian Morash Executive Chef, Sara Moulton a.s.sociate Executive Chef, and Rosemary Manell Food Stylist. Patricia (Pat) Pratt was in charge of buying and arranging the flowers for the dining-room table and the set (which Russ always thought was "too flowery").

Elizabeth played the "bad guy." A few of them found her difficult to work with, jealous and compet.i.tive. One described her always walking around with what looked like a water gla.s.s in her hand. Yet another noted, "Julia and Liz together were like Abbott and Costello." Paul always liked her naughty tongue, according to Judith Jones. Now she played the role that Paul had had in moving everything along and allowing Julia to be the "good guy." Liz, the women believed, could make anything happen. Surrounded by women with a serious purpose, Julia was again the center of the pack, the Head Girl, as she had been in Pasadena and Northampton.

"It was a Persian Circus," according to Morash. The women called themselves "Harmony Inc. Complete Food Production." In the introduction to the second volume of the books based on the two television series, Julia called them "our team," and later "a family of intimates." Rosemary said the "camaraderie was like the old sewing bees, like a party." Sara, who would marry a man in the music business, probably had the best tag: "Julia's Posse ... rappers always have their posse": What is both so frustrating and so great about Julia is that she treated us all like equals [said Sara Moulton, chef of Gourmet's Gourmet's kitchen in 1994]. She did not behave like a big, important teacher, like she was, or an expert. She really valued our opinions. There were times when I wished she had, because I wanted to sit at her feet and learn everything from her. She made us feel good. It was really an exciting experience. kitchen in 1994]. She did not behave like a big, important teacher, like she was, or an expert. She really valued our opinions. There were times when I wished she had, because I wanted to sit at her feet and learn everything from her. She made us feel good. It was really an exciting experience.

Behind the elaborate plans for a series in which Julia and Paul would not have to work late hours was their lawyer, Bob Johnson. Johnson believed Julia was a national treasure who should be treated as such. Polaroid agreed and underwrote the series. He had spent several days the previous June at La Pitchoune planning the circ.u.mstances that would be best for Julia (and Paul): no work in their home, no shopping, no dismantling of the set, and plenty of a.s.sistants. According to one of Julia's colleagues in the food business, "Johnson was a very good lawyer, who negotiated good contracts for Julia."

The week began on Friday morning at the studio when at least ten people gathered-all but the film crew-for "talk-through" from 7:30 A.M. A.M. until they had lunch together. Final decisions were made on what dishes and procedures would be demonstrated and what food was to be purchased (Rosie went shopping). Monday was "cook-through," in which the same crew tried out the meal, and Tuesday was "dress rehearsal": Pat bought and arranged the flowers, Ruthie constructed the cue cards, Rosie chose the colors of plates and everything on the table, and the food crew prepared food for the next day's shoot (they made the chocolate cake thirteen times before getting it right). until they had lunch together. Final decisions were made on what dishes and procedures would be demonstrated and what food was to be purchased (Rosie went shopping). Monday was "cook-through," in which the same crew tried out the meal, and Tuesday was "dress rehearsal": Pat bought and arranged the flowers, Ruthie constructed the cue cards, Rosie chose the colors of plates and everything on the table, and the food crew prepared food for the next day's shoot (they made the chocolate cake thirteen times before getting it right).

The taping with fifteen people was done on Wednesday, with Russ Morash outside in an enormous bus full of television monitors and lights. Lines and cables connected him to the floor manager, who took his directions. Electricians and cameramen all had headphones and Julia was wired down the back of her blouse (she told Simca she would continue to wear the L'Ecole des Trois Gourmandes insignia on her blouse). Although they had several versions of each of the three dishes at different stages of preparation, they took a break in filming between each section. At that time, Julia's silent partner Rosemary brought out the dish she had cooked in the prep kitchen and the still photographer went to work. They taped four hours in the morning, sat down to lunch with wine at a long table, then worked until late.

Paul was able to be in charge of keeping the knives sharpened and taking black-and-white photos for distribution from their home. He was always "amazed," he wrote Charlie, "that all these moving parts work so well together on each show." James D. (Jim) Scherer, a young professional still photographer, launched his career by taking all the color photographs for WGBH and for the books based on the two series.

Julia took direction well from strong men, her a.s.sistants noticed. In turn, Morash admired her because she was "curious, professional, and scholarly about her art ... these are the three keys to Julia," he adds. "She was never casual. She does not sit around and worry, she trusts professionals. She trusted me! That was a responsibility. I wanted to do the best for her. She asked, 'Is that enough or should we do it again?' She always delivers."

After filming a couple of programs, Julia realized she could not both write the book and film the series. She needed a professional writer to draft the text for the program. At Peter Davison's suggestion, Julia hired Esther S. (Peggy) Yntema, a longtime editorial colleague of Davison's at the Atlantic Monthly Press. Peggy Yntema attended all the remaining talk-throughs, dress rehearsals, and tapings, even helping out on the set. With her excellent memory, she went home and typed up crucial points. She wrote the frontispiece material and introductions to the dinners, then got recipes from Julia and smoothed out the inconsistencies (asking Judith Jones for model recipe forms). Soon she was completing a chapter with each show. An examination of the drafts of the two books reveals that Peggy was the writer, Julia the re-writer. Julia wrote all over the "esy" (Yntema) drafts, taking out wording, such as a literary allusion to Henry V, saying, "It's not my style at all." Occasionally Peggy returned some phrasing to the text and Julia left it in on the second read ("It was completely unpredictable what she wanted in or out"). Remarkably, she captured Julia's voice well, and she had the book ready in time for the appearance of the series.

Chris Pullman did the layout, following Julia's desire to break up the visuals with lots of white s.p.a.ce, headings, and subt.i.tles ("We want it to look very magaziney"). Focusing on segments ("You do not want to read every single section every time you make the dish") reflected Julia's organized mind as well as the growing influence of slick food magazines in the 1970s (Gourmet (Gourmet was followed by was followed by Bon Appet.i.t, Food & Wine, The Cook's Magazine) Bon Appet.i.t, Food & Wine, The Cook's Magazine). The photographs were lavish. Peggy made a major contribution by adding the shopping lists, suggestions on what to do with leftovers, alternatives to the menu, and variations at the end of each menu, looking back through Julia's other books so as not to be repet.i.tive. Julia also wanted a postscript to each chapter, and they added menu alternatives and "cooking to bring" (when invited to dinner) to fill out the slim book. (In the second volume, they added a gazetteer and dropped the menu alternatives.) When the first volume was in galleys, Julia-in a further easing up on control-allowed others to proofread and took Paul to Provence for four months.

When the first book appeared in 1978, Knopf printed 190,000 copies, and it was an alternative selection of the Book-of-the-Month Club. Peggy was surprised: "I read the proof and saw my name on the t.i.tle page ["In collaboration with E. S. Yntema"]. It would have been terribly ungracious to say no, thank you, but I would have preferred not to have my name used." Indeed, the copyright page rightly lists her as "joint author." After anonymously serving as midwife to a number of noteworthy books at the Atlantic Monthly Press, including a famous novel of the decade, she preferred anonymity. She was also surprised by a large royalty check (Julia had added a share of the royalties to Peggy's contractual flat fee) and gave $2,000 to the Schlesinger Library in Julia Child's name.

Peggy Yntema, who preferred the first volume ("fresher and less strained") to the second, said of Julia's organizational skills: "She could have been a general." Of her character: "There is absolutely no falsehood to Julia at all; she cannot gild the lily; perfectionism is very important; she will make any number of tries to get it just right." Of her style: "Her conversational style was born before she met Paul; her conversational style is so much like her books." A good example of the style ("Julia wrote this section herself") is found in the recipe for ca.s.soulet, where she discusses what in private she would call farting: "Intestinal motility is polite gobbledygook for flatulence, which in turn means gas," then quotes the scientists at the USDA on beans and their digestive qualities.

WGBH made a one-time payment to Julia for each program (most of which was used to pay her extra a.s.sistants) and no residuals, though the programs ran for twenty years. Julia did not make money on any series, but she did on the books based on the series. At this point she had combined sales of more than a million books. As she told food writer Barbara Sims-Bell, "I don't think that I made fifty dollars a television show; there is no money on public television. Caterers probably make more money." She told the New York Times New York Times the same thing, adding, "I don't do anything commercial except selling books of mine." In 1991, Wings Books (distributed by Knopf) combined the two books-hurriedly, it would seem, from the number of typographical errors-in a big slick book ent.i.tled the same thing, adding, "I don't do anything commercial except selling books of mine." In 1991, Wings Books (distributed by Knopf) combined the two books-hurriedly, it would seem, from the number of typographical errors-in a big slick book ent.i.tled Julia Child's Menu Cookbook Julia Child's Menu Cookbook.

THE RESEARCHER AND THE CRITICS.

Jack Shelton in San Francisco, whom Clark Wolf calls the first food writer (pre-Claiborne) to call himself a "restaurant critic," was Julia's most devoted reviewer. He praised two qualities in her: "Julia knows how to listen" and she possesses an "unslakable thirst for greater knowledge." The women who worked with her all recall her intense curiosity and her investigation of food-related issues, contacting national scientific groups such as the Bureau of Weights and Measures when she went on a losing crusade to promote the metric system. She told an exhausted Marian Morash, who was going home to her family, that Marian should "work on a fish terrine a certain way" and Julia would try another way and they would compare notes in the morning. Julia herself remembers trying to get a certain recipe from "a nasty French pastry woman who had a world-famous flourless cake." When the woman refused, Julia spent years of experimenting until she made her own gateau Victoire au chocolat gateau Victoire au chocolat with whipped cream in time for with whipped cream in time for Julia Child & Company Julia Child & Company.

A pa.s.sage in a letter to Louisette at the end of 1978 reveals another reason for Julia's persistent research: "There are now so many people in this country, teaching and writing, who have had wonderful training such as working in restaurants in France, taking courses at Lenotre, etc. I can't pretend to keep up with them. It is amazing what a revolution in cooking has taken place in this country-I wonder if young people in France are that much interested? Or as expert? It has perhaps not yet happened there as it has here."

"I learn something new every day," she told one reporter. "It's endless. You're never going to live long enough. I would very much like to go over to Paris to go to the Lenotre pastry and catering school." She also wanted to study charcuterie. Again she told a Chicago reporter, "I'd like to get some more training.... Maybe I could work as an interpreter at La Varenne."

When Marian Morash suggested Julia come to Nantucket, where she was chef for three years at the (summer-only) Straight Wharf restaurant, Julia spent a weekend in mid-August cooking on-line with the crew, serving 80 to 90 customers for lunch and 125 for dinner. With delight, she reported to Simca that she had done "actual on-line cooking" for the first time, detailing the dishes she helped to prepare. She reveled in the adventure, the learning, and the camaraderie.

Hard work does not immunize one to criticism; indeed, and publicity attracts it. The first reviews in October 1978 brought a new attack by Madeleine Kamman, who sent Julia a copy of a letter to a Boston periodical in which she said Julia opened her oysters with "a can opener," but "I will continue clicking an oyster open every fifteen seconds with an oyster knife." Julia did not reply, as usual, but noted at the bottom of Kamman's missive that fifteen seconds was slow. Through the years Julia did not write or utter Kamman's name, yet never failed to report to Simca every appearance in the media of "your French pupil from Newton." The following year Kamman informed Julia by letter that she was professionally dying in the small town of Boston, where Julia's celebrity made her the only person to know. Soon afterward Kamman made the front page with news that she was returning to her native France to "battle the s.e.xism of the French cooking establishment"-because the people of Boston did not appreciate her restaurant. The Philadelphia Inquirer Philadelphia Inquirer reported that she was going back to France to open a restaurant run entirely by women. When asked if anyone cooked better than she, she replied perhaps Fredy Girardet-maybe not better, but as well as she. (Many considered Girardet, in Crissier outside Lausanne, the best chef in the world.) Julia, in reporting this to Simca, added that "life will lose much of its savor without her, that's for sure." reported that she was going back to France to open a restaurant run entirely by women. When asked if anyone cooked better than she, she replied perhaps Fredy Girardet-maybe not better, but as well as she. (Many considered Girardet, in Crissier outside Lausanne, the best chef in the world.) Julia, in reporting this to Simca, added that "life will lose much of its savor without her, that's for sure."

Privately to Simca or Ruth Lockwood, Julia could refer to Simca's former pupil with some favorite epithet, but she also acknowledged Kamman's talent and teaching skills. Chez la Mere Madeleine at the Modern Gourmet cooking school in Newton Center, which was opened in 1974, was sold to several of Kamman's cooking school pupils in 1980 (at which point Julia and Paul visited, but were disappointed). One magazine called Kamman a "Woman with a Vision" and pictured her in Annecy, but the Boston Globe Boston Globe called her "the Cast-Iron Lady." By 1983 she had opened a school in New Hampshire as well as Annecy and several years later settled in the Napa Valley to teach chefs. Eventually, her resentment against Julia abated somewhat as her reputation as a teacher of teachers became secure. called her "the Cast-Iron Lady." By 1983 she had opened a school in New Hampshire as well as Annecy and several years later settled in the Napa Valley to teach chefs. Eventually, her resentment against Julia abated somewhat as her reputation as a teacher of teachers became secure.

Julia Child & Company, which focused on occasions, sold very well and won the 1978 Tastemaker Award (voted on by a nationwide panel of book and periodical editors) as well as the American Book Award ("the only cookbook to win a major literary prize," Jane Davison noted). Marcella Hazan's More Cla.s.sic Italian Cooking More Cla.s.sic Italian Cooking and the Troisgros brothers' and the Troisgros brothers' The Nouvelle Cuisine of Jean and Pierre Troisgros The Nouvelle Cuisine of Jean and Pierre Troisgros were runners-up. were runners-up. Julia Child & More Company Julia Child & More Company, which focused on specific dishes, was not bought by New York public television and sales of the book were poor until she began a cross-country tour. Nevertheless, she was named Woman of the Year in 1979 by the New England chapter of the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences. The following year, the Katharine Branson School, at its sixtieth anniversary celebration, bestowed on her one of its Distinguished Alumnae Awards.

Reviewers of her books praised the variety of her dishes and the clarity of her recipes. In the New York Times Book Review New York Times Book Review, Mimi Sheraton praised Julia's streamlined (from four- to one-hour) puff pastry recipe ("alone worth the price of the book"), but mentioned "some unnecessarily gimmicky recipes (skewered vegetable salad) that smack of ladies' magazine cookery." Because Julia had said it was silly to fawn over the French, she was accused of a "patronizing view of the French."

Another criticism of the first book by reviewers was of its use of older recipes to fill out a menu (though only new recipes were demonstrated on the tapes). Between the two series and their books, Peggy Yntema composed a detailed a.s.sessment of the recipes, at which time Julia hired more a.s.sistants. A careful look at the dishes that were repeated in these volumes, however, reveals that Julia's recipes evolved and improved. They were "recast into the prevailing food style," one food writer noted, giving as an example the bouillabaisse made with chicken as the centerpiece of a low-calorie dinner. Julia did not just copy recipes. The most striking example, other than the new puff pastry, is her ca.s.soulet, which she says of the second volume is her fourth version, each "lighter and leaner."

Ratings for the television series were modest (the time slot was not prime) and the book reviews were spa.r.s.e, but rarely negative. The Chicago Tribune Chicago Tribune said her meals were "syncopated like jazz." All reviewers noted the emphasis on shopping, preparing a full meal, and serving the meal, with most preferring the highly personal approach; another reviewer, however, thought the books were "too chummy." Most newspaper writers focused on Julia herself, for her honest directness always gave the reporters a good quote. For example, Jeannette Ferrary featured the reasons why America found Julia Child so interesting-everything from her eccentricity to her feeling comfortable with being a woman. Ferrary adds: "She gives us a Magic Show every week, with slapstick (she's a little like said her meals were "syncopated like jazz." All reviewers noted the emphasis on shopping, preparing a full meal, and serving the meal, with most preferring the highly personal approach; another reviewer, however, thought the books were "too chummy." Most newspaper writers focused on Julia herself, for her honest directness always gave the reporters a good quote. For example, Jeannette Ferrary featured the reasons why America found Julia Child so interesting-everything from her eccentricity to her feeling comfortable with being a woman. Ferrary adds: "She gives us a Magic Show every week, with slapstick (she's a little like I Love Lucy)," I Love Lucy)," and always seems to be having a good time. Of course, the last line in Julia's very first book was "Above all have a good time." Julia wrote in the introduction to and always seems to be having a good time. Of course, the last line in Julia's very first book was "Above all have a good time." Julia wrote in the introduction to More Company More Company, "It's more fun cooking for for company company in in company." company."

Often reviews indulged culinary metaphors, but few as cleverly as Stephen Wadsworth, who was once editor of Opera News: Opera News: "She's a serenely gawky six feet one [sic] inch, a ripe roast of "She's a serenely gawky six feet one [sic] inch, a ripe roast of gourmande gourmande stuffed with fresh chortle, chesty guffaws, and twenty cloves of humor. She's wrapped in a no-nonsense dress and poured into two one-quart sensible shoes, and she serves herself with quant.i.ties of elan." Ferrary and Wadsworth were exceptions to the journalists who for decades covered Julia using the same profiles and cliches. Julia never made a meal of her past, yet was asked by reporters for the same basic menu over and over. stuffed with fresh chortle, chesty guffaws, and twenty cloves of humor. She's wrapped in a no-nonsense dress and poured into two one-quart sensible shoes, and she serves herself with quant.i.ties of elan." Ferrary and Wadsworth were exceptions to the journalists who for decades covered Julia using the same profiles and cliches. Julia never made a meal of her past, yet was asked by reporters for the same basic menu over and over.

If journalists were soft, her colleagues were not. One friend called the second volume "not up to her standards." Yet, M. F. K. Fisher, who did not like the first volume, praised the language of the second: "1,000% better in every way in every way ... more pure cla.s.s ... more true spirit of Julia's own spirit." The innovative use of ginger in b.u.t.ternut squash, the inclusion of a vegetarian dinner and a low-calorie dinner, and Julia's reinterpretations of cla.s.sic dishes such as chicken melon and vegetarian gateau are all praised twenty years later by Betty Rosbottom, food writer and cooking school owner. Rosbottom particularly commends Julia's wit, ill.u.s.trated by her ... more pure cla.s.s ... more true spirit of Julia's own spirit." The innovative use of ginger in b.u.t.ternut squash, the inclusion of a vegetarian dinner and a low-calorie dinner, and Julia's reinterpretations of cla.s.sic dishes such as chicken melon and vegetarian gateau are all praised twenty years later by Betty Rosbottom, food writer and cooking school owner. Rosbottom particularly commends Julia's wit, ill.u.s.trated by her poulet de Charente a la melonaise poulet de Charente a la melonaise in the first volume and, in the second, "Una furtiva lagrima," a postscript on ways to peel an onion (echoing the opera in the first volume and, in the second, "Una furtiva lagrima," a postscript on ways to peel an onion (echoing the opera L'Elisir d'Amore) L'Elisir d'Amore).

TAKING THE POSSE ON THE ROAD.

Julia, Sara, and Marian stood behind a long table on the stage in a contest to see who could make the fastest and best spun caramel cage. They were giving a benefit for the Schlesinger Library of Radcliffe College in 1979, and Julia knew how to put on a good show. Recalled Marian: "She used a gla.s.s bowl, I used one covered with Saran Wrap, and Sara used something else. The audience of five hundred went crazy. The suspense was breathless as Julia said 'okay,' and we dribbled the warm caramel. Mine came off first and people screamed with joy, but Julia did not care that hers was not perfect; it was a performance. She did not have to have the perfect dish, as other cooks would have insisted upon."

When the familiar seasonal rhythm called for her Provencal interlude, she and Paul were eager "to sit under our olive tree and breathe in the air of Provence." Julia brought all their Christmas cards unopened for five months and had them answered by mid-June. She took time out for a week in Spain and a week in England, where she made brief television spots for the release of the English version of From Julia Child's Kitchen From Julia Child's Kitchen ("n.o.body will take me for a home economist!" she told Elizabeth David). Her sense of the contrast between the two countries (she had never been in Spain before) says much about her: she loved the people (if not the food) of Spain, a country reminding her in its broad plains and scattered great oak trees of Southern California, whereas in cold, damp England, there was a "lack of openly expressed gutsy sensuality," she informed Mary Frances. "Things just don't work very well there in old Blighty, but we adore our English friends." After a dinner with Mark and Anne in Paris, Julia and Paul took the Concorde home because Bob Johnson told them to spend more money. ("n.o.body will take me for a home economist!" she told Elizabeth David). Her sense of the contrast between the two countries (she had never been in Spain before) says much about her: she loved the people (if not the food) of Spain, a country reminding her in its broad plains and scattered great oak trees of Southern California, whereas in cold, damp England, there was a "lack of openly expressed gutsy sensuality," she informed Mary Frances. "Things just don't work very well there in old Blighty, but we adore our English friends." After a dinner with Mark and Anne in Paris, Julia and Paul took the Concorde home because Bob Johnson told them to spend more money.

Though Julia was not one to rush back for reunions, she returned for the hundred-year celebration of Hubbard House at Smith, where she and roommate Mary Warner reminisced about Julia's trip to the speakeasy in her convertible. When she told a local reporter she would "rather eat a tablespoon of Charlotte Malakoff than three bowls of Jell-O," she was revealing how far the young, jelly-donut-eating coed had come.

"She is a tomorrow person, not a yesterday person," said Russ Morash. "I frankly love that about her." Julia's present and her future would be as a public person, the representative of good cooking and eating and a major television personality. Her public appearances included a nomination at the Emmy Awards in Los Angeles in 1978 and speaking at the graduation ceremony of the Culinary Inst.i.tute of America in 1979. She also judged the national Beef Cook-Off in Omaha, Nebraska, in 1979 and in Scottsdale, Arizona, in 1980 ("I need my beef," she was fond of saying, much to the dismay of a growing number of vegetarians in America). She taught with Rosemary at a weekend school called Cooking at the Cove, on the Sonoma peninsula in California. For the Boston Herald American Boston Herald American, she judged the food at Boston Red Sox's Fenway Park (the hot dog was "thin and pale," but she liked the beer and popcorn). If she could join 30,000 fans to taste their food and watch the Red Sox, perhaps they would watch her in their homes. Indeed, most did, even if they had no intention of preparing one of her recipes.

Paul still went along to every appearance and performance, even after he was diagnosed with "prostate malignancy" in July 1979 and began a series of radium treatments. Julia told Simca earlier that his "understanding of the spoken word was getting more difficult." As one representative of Knopf noticed: "Paul would drift in and out of paying attention, but she was incredibly sweet about making him a part of it all: he sat at the table and signed the books with her. She is a tough old broad, but she is kind, and having him sign was a way to keep him a part of things." Occasionally he would add a pithy remark to an interview ("She only liked food and men").

Every member of her troupe reported the same enjoyment ("She likes to have fun"), weight gain, and exhaustion upon traveling with her: "I was a wet rag left in her wake," said one of her publicity directors half her age. "When I needed a nap, she would say, 'Let's go to the tall gals shop (The Forgotten Woman, Lane Bryant, or Big and Tall)!'" Another observed pointedly: "Even when the line was two blocks long, she was gracious. People do not stand in line for s.h.i.ts. She was as pleasant to the first person as to the last one, four hours later. She stays to the bitter end."

In 1979 Julia a.s.sisted both Simca and Louisette with their respective newly published books. When Julia was busy filming More Company More Company in April 1979, Doubleday asked if she would read the galleys of the English translation of Louisette's in April 1979, Doubleday asked if she would read the galleys of the English translation of Louisette's French Cuisine for All French Cuisine for All and write an endors.e.m.e.nt, a request she could not turn down. But when Doubleday asked the next month if she would write her own memoirs, she called it "an impossible enterprise." Julia arranged with the Schlesinger Library at Radcliffe to give a reception for Simca when she toured the country in late 1979 and early 1980. and write an endors.e.m.e.nt, a request she could not turn down. But when Doubleday asked the next month if she would write her own memoirs, she called it "an impossible enterprise." Julia arranged with the Schlesinger Library at Radcliffe to give a reception for Simca when she toured the country in late 1979 and early 1980.

RELUCTANT TOUR.

At the beginning of taping the More Company More Company series, Julia (almost sixty-seven) said to Simca, "We all had series, Julia (almost sixty-seven) said to Simca, "We all had so much fun so much fun cooking together ... however this cooking together ... however this is the end-no more." is the end-no more." While correcting proofs for the book four months later, just after Paul's hospitalization, she added: "But this is THE END, Finito. No more TV, no more anything of that sort, and I am even hoping I won't have to go out and promote it this time. I'm really saying [no to] anything, and hope that will do the trick." Then she added: "I'm really getting tired of all the cuisine brouhaha, jockeying for place and prestige." While correcting proofs for the book four months later, just after Paul's hospitalization, she added: "But this is THE END, Finito. No more TV, no more anything of that sort, and I am even hoping I won't have to go out and promote it this time. I'm really saying [no to] anything, and hope that will do the trick." Then she added: "I'm really getting tired of all the cuisine brouhaha, jockeying for place and prestige."

Because she stayed home in 1979 to work personally on the proofs of More Company More Company, publication was delayed until November, too late for a tour before Christmas. Therefore, after a two-week trip to the usual spots in California, Julia and Paul left for Provence just before Christmas of 1979. It was cold and damp, Paul got influenza, and their p.u.s.s.y cat died, Judith Jones, who called Julia in the hopes of setting up a book tour, found Julia enjoying herself despite the weather, illness, and her cat's death. She had eleven people for Christmas dinner, including a writer and photographer from Bon Appet.i.t Bon Appet.i.t magazine. But Paul was unhappy and chilly and told her he did not want to return again in the winter. Though she did not want to leave, Julia knew, as she told one journalist in January 1980: "As soon as you're off television, in a few months n.o.body will know who you are, which is fine. That makes fame quite bearable." Bearable because one can always quit, though she was not ready to do that. magazine. But Paul was unhappy and chilly and told her he did not want to return again in the winter. Though she did not want to leave, Julia knew, as she told one journalist in January 1980: "As soon as you're off television, in a few months n.o.body will know who you are, which is fine. That makes fame quite bearable." Bearable because one can always quit, though she was not ready to do that.

Upon their return, Julia embarked on a thirteen-city tour in three weeks. Initially the schedule was geared for plenty of rest for Paul, but opportunities for appearances were added as the tour went along. McCall's McCall's, where several recipes were previously published in shorter form (exactly three per volume), took out full-page advertis.e.m.e.nts. (She had been writing her monthly column since 1977.) Knopf had a new publicity director named Janice Goldklang, who arranged promotions with Macy's and Bloomingdale's. These stores sent invitations to their credit-card customers, "who would pour in," according to Goldklang: A thousand people would show up, for her celebrity was a big deal.... You should see the cookbooks people brought to have her sign. You could eat them, they were so covered with food; and the pages were torn and covers fallen off. They would say, "This is my most beloved book." ... Whatever city they visited, the Wednesday papers would have huge features; sales were worth the expense for the department store. It doesn't happen this way anymore.

Knopf, who scheduled Julia on every show from d.i.c.k Cavett to Johnny Carson, paid for Julia, Paul, Liz Bishop (and Rosie or Marian to do prep work). Julia had to fly first-cla.s.s because of her height. She needed the same leg room in cars, so she preferred sitting up in the front with the limo driver, adds Goldklang, who arranged for hairdresser, makeup person, and limousine.

"We were awfully lucky," Julia said to reporter Nao Hauser, who was catching an interview on the way to O'Hare Airport after the Chicago appearance. Just as Julia was recalling her romance with Paul in 1946 and "going to Paris with my loved one," she noticed Paul stumbling up ahead, then turning back toward her. To the reporter, out of earshot of Paul, Julia said, "Oh, it's rotten getting old," and hurried to guide him to the limousine, hand him his cap and briefcase, and a.s.sure him that she was there. She was now the anchor, haven, and direction for her once wise and worldly guide.

She began the tour reluctantly, for Paul's infirmities complicated the logistics. She did not intend to leave him behind nor would she allow her career to languish. She loved the action, and she was their major financial support. As her career moved away from cookbook writing, she had to continue tours, demonstrations, and television.

"It's my job," she would say. But the contact with people energized her. She did, in fact, enjoy her career and could not imagine the adventure coming to an end. Her only problem was her knees. "[My] cartilage is worn out from standing around too much," she wrote Mary Frances on September 30, 1980. "It will gradually get worse and when [I] can't walk, [I] will get an operation (new joint). This is the first real evidence of the machine wearing out (except for the gla.s.ses) that I've had so far."

They concluded their tour on the West Coast with Dorothy and Ivan in San Francisco, and then Los Angeles, where Charlie was now living with his daughter Rachel. Julia appeared on all the major talk shows, including one day on both The Mike Douglas Show The Mike Douglas Show at 1:15 at 1:15 P.M P.M. and Johnny Carson's Tonight Tonight show at 5 show at 5 P.M P.M.

THE SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY:.

PASTICHE AND PARODY.

The most famous talk show incident occurred on the Tomorrow Tomorrow show, hosted by Tom Snyder, when Julia appeared with Jacques Pepin, who had been on the show five or six times before. "Julia brought enough food to feed a hundred people, and I was late," said Pepin, who always carried his knife with him. Before they began their hour and a half of cooking, she cut her hand with his knife. According to Pamela Henstell (Knopf's West Coast representative), Julia wrapped a towel around her hand and went to the hospital afterward: "To Julia it was nothing, but it was a very big cut," adds Henstell. Julia says she went to the first-aid station on the Burbank lot. Pepin recalls that they got the studio infirmary to bandage the wound, then went out to eat afterward at L'Ermitage restaurant ("after she had st.i.tches and a teta.n.u.s shot"). Julia also claims that Jacques said something very macho, such as "She's probably not used to sharp knives." She was not amused. Though the stories differ, they all agree on the cut and that Tom Snyder brought up the topic on the program. News traveled fast at NBC. The story lives on through repeated showings of Dan Aykroyd's "reenactment" on show, hosted by Tom Snyder, when Julia appeared with Jacques Pepin, who had been on the show five or six times before. "Julia brought enough food to feed a hundred people, and I was late," said Pepin, who always carried his knife with him. Before they began their hour and a half of cooking, she cut her hand with his knife. According to Pamela Henstell (Knopf's West Coast representative), Julia wrapped a towel around her hand and went to the hospital afterward: "To Julia it was nothing, but it was a very big cut," adds Henstell. Julia says she went to the first-aid station on the Burbank lot. Pepin recalls that they got the studio infirmary to bandage the wound, then went out to eat afterward at L'Ermitage restaurant ("after she had st.i.tches and a teta.n.u.s shot"). Julia also claims that Jacques said something very macho, such as "She's probably not used to sharp knives." She was not amused. Though the stories differ, they all agree on the cut and that Tom Snyder brought up the topic on the program. News traveled fast at NBC. The story lives on through repeated showings of Dan Aykroyd's "reenactment" on The Best of Sat.u.r.day Night Live The Best of Sat.u.r.day Night Live.

Comedian Dan Aykroyd, dressed in full Julia drag, stood with a large knife in one hand and a naked chicken in the other. Adopting her high swinging vibrato and gay antic.i.p.ation, he announced the making of a poularde demi-desossee poularde demi-desossee and began talking about the uses of the giblets and liver. The and began talking about the uses of the giblets and liver. The Sat.u.r.day Sat.u.r.day Night Live Night Live audience recognized the parody and was convulsed in laughter. "You can't do nothin' without a sharp knife," he said as he ran the knife along the spine of the chicken, "toward the pope's nose," he said, presumably slicing off his thumb. The bleeding began. Mimicking her unflappability in crisis, her desire to turn any adversity into a teaching experience, he kept right on talking as the blood spurted profusely, filling the pan holding the chicken. "Chicken livers are a natural coagulant!" he said, applying one to his spurting hand. Chattering calmly on about every home needing the 911 number programmed into its phone, he reached for the phone: "It's a prop phone. What a shame ...," he said, dropping it to the counter. "Why are you all spinning?" he asked the audience as the blood shot over the table and floor. Voice fading, he began slumping toward the table. Weakened by the loss of blood, he called audience recognized the parody and was convulsed in laughter. "You can't do nothin' without a sharp knife," he said as he ran the knife along the spine of the chicken, "toward the pope's nose," he said, presumably slicing off his thumb. The bleeding began. Mimicking her unflappability in crisis, her desire to turn any adversity into a teaching experience, he kept right on talking as the blood spurted profusely, filling the pan holding the chicken. "Chicken livers are a natural coagulant!" he said, applying one to his spurting hand. Chattering calmly on about every home needing the 911 number programmed into its phone, he reached for the phone: "It's a prop phone. What a shame ...," he said, dropping it to the counter. "Why are you all spinning?" he asked the audience as the blood shot over the table and floor. Voice fading, he began slumping toward the table. Weakened by the loss of blood, he called "Bon appet.i.t!" "Bon appet.i.t!" and hit the Formica (to great applause), then raised his head once to gasp, "Save the liver!" and hit the Formica (to great applause), then raised his head once to gasp, "Save the liver!"

It may have been one of Aykroyd's (and Sat.u.r.day Night Live's) Sat.u.r.day Night Live's) finest hours, but it was not the first or the last Julia Child parody. finest hours, but it was not the first or the last Julia Child parody.

This parody, and the apocryphal stories of her dropping chickens and ducks on the floor and swigging wine (the latter she resented strongly), were part of the lore of a beloved television figure. The accidental cutting off of Aykroyd's thumb at least had a semblance of basis in fact. Paul's letters record her tripping on the way to the table and spilling the salad for six people all over the tiles in La Pitchoune. At least three times she broke her toe. Several times she cut her hands and had to see a doctor. When Simca was coming to dinner, Julia cut her hand while tr.i.m.m.i.n.g b.u.t.ternut squash and had to go to the hospital while Sara Moulton finished the meal for eleven. Julia was back in time to eat with everyone. Stories of her car accidents, particularly backing out of her driveway, are repeated by colleagues and employees. In the summer of 1978, after "a little episode," they had to get another rental car and stick to the larger roads in Provence. Another friend evokes Julia's joie de vivre in a story of Julia driving her car toward a crowded intersection in Provence and shouting out one of her favorite expressions: "Lurch!"

Fannie Flagg also did a takeoff on Julia earlier in her career. M. F. K. Fisher wrote to ask Julia if she saw the spoof of her by Fannie Flagg: "I did think it was quite funny, and hope you do too." Carol Burnett did a takeoff on Julia for her 1968 variety show, Englishman John Cleese gave a convincing imitation, and "Sister Julia, Child of G.o.d" cooks the poisonous stew in Nunsense Nunsense, a musical comedy by Dan Goggin. Julia learned to take them all in stride and was known to play the Aykroyd tape that NBC sent her.

The dozens of cartoons that appeared over forty years a.s.sumed that every reader knew Julia Child: two thin men staring enviously at three fat men in a television studio ("They're the crew for the Julia Child show"); Macbeth's three witches peering into their cauldron and holding a copy of a cookbook with Julia Child's name on it; "The Cat Who Tasted Cinnamon" refused food until its owner studied Julia Child. More references appeared in the beloved "Beetle Bailey" cartoon strip than in any others.

From The Muppets The Muppets to to Sat.u.r.day Night Live Sat.u.r.day Night Live, she understood the humor and the compliment. It was only when manufacturers crossed the line, calling their products "Julia Chives" or "Julia Chicken," that she saw their intentions for what they were and had her lawyer take action. Any "use of her name for advertising purposes" was a "con game" and "hucksterism." Ocean Spray Cranberries was threatened and withdrew its cartoon character named "Julia Chicken;" the Sheraton Hotel in Boston promptly withdrew an advertis.e.m.e.nt that suggested her endors.e.m.e.nt when the lawsuit was drawn up; one company paid $5,000, another $40,000. All proceeds went to public television. Such integrity allowed her to praise a blender by name onstage or comment on the tasteless mealiness of an apple by name (even if the apple grower was sponsoring the event).

Her lawyer seriously considered an offer by a ceramics company for a line of Julia Child ware in 1979. He allowed the talk to move to six figures, discussing with Julia scholarships for study at La Varenne, until the correspondence suddenly stopped. She nixed the idea. Occasionally she would allow a company to use the cover of a book, but not her name or photograph. She did allow her name to be used in a French textbook, but that was in keeping with her career as teacher and her a.s.sociation with educational television.

GOOD MORNING AMERICA.

In 1980 she finally became a.s.sociated with commercial television, telling Mary Frances she was "now through with public television." She had appeared on many commercial television stations before, but never on a regular basis. Now she began cooking on ABC's Good Morning America Good Morning America, a sort of variety show interspersed with news. Julia performed two-and-a-half-minute cooking spots produced by Sonya Selby-Wright, from whom she willingly took orders as she did from her editor, Judith Jones. Julia earned $605 per appearance plus expenses for herself and an a.s.sistant. She took the job less for the money than because public television was not using her. And she was able, she told Mary Frances, to "do six spots in just a few hours." Nevertheless, "Julia's segments were a bigger production than the others," says Jane Bollinger, who would become her second producer.

Julia explained to John Wadsworth, an interviewer for PBS-TV, New York: "We just KILLED ourselves [on Julia Child & More Company] Julia Child & More Company]. We had the best team we've ever had. But PBS-I don't know whether they forgot we taped it or what, but it never got on in New York, and if you're not on in New York, you ain't nowhere." Just beginning to warm up to her subject, she went on: Knopf ... gave the advance for the book, and [the series] never got off the ground, and I just thought to h.e.l.l with that. It's a twelve-hour day and a seven-day week, and I'm not going to go into that kind of thing and have it just lay an egg. That's a d.a.m.n good book, and they were d.a.m.n good shows and very original recipes. A lot of places didn't get it because they never announced that it was going out there and everybody made their fall schedules without it. So I'm through, frankly. It was so good, that's what annoys me.

Wadsworth published what sounded like her farewell to PBS in Dial Dial and added: "Julia is a gentlewoman and a scholar, a cook in the cla.s.sical tradition who is just as preoccupied with and added: "Julia is a gentlewoman and a scholar, a cook in the cla.s.sical tradition who is just as preoccupied with la nature des choses la nature des choses-the essential flavor of things-as any of the people she calls the nouvelle boys."

After she taped the first group of spots for Good Morning America Good Morning America, she hired another person to help her when ABC took her on permanently and planned to shoot on a variety of locations, whether on a shrimp boat or wherever Julia happened to be. Nancy Verde Barr was a perky five-foot-two-inch, cooking school owner-Paul soon named her "Sparkle Plenty"-who was in charge of the "food stuff" for the demonstrations. Julia was impressed by her efficiency and invited her to lunch in Boston to meet Sara and Liz. Incidentally, Nancy had studied with Madeleine Kamman, now in Europe, but left when she got pregnant before completing her practice cooking experience. "I loved working for Julia. Her mind is so incredible. Something is always happening in her life," says Nancy. "She is nurturing but not motherly. She takes people under her wing, but she is very businesslike and nonjudgmental. When she hired me, she did not hold it against me that I had studied with Kamman." By 1981 Nancy was an integral part of the team; and Julia's spot ran every Tuesday morning at 8:40, during the last half hour of Good Morning America Good Morning America.

Julia's two latest books, still selling well as the 1980s began, reflected the changes in America's growing obsession with food. "There was a big wave of home cooking through the late seventies," says Mimi Sheraton. Certainly Julia-as well as the Cuisinart, the pasta machine, and television cooking-ignited the trend, she adds. Claiborne long encouraged home cooking in his Times Times articles, which gave real (not home economist's) recipes. If you were a good person, you made your own ice cream, notes Sheraton, it was almost a moral imperative. If you were a serious cook, you bought a Garland range. Perhaps because they were tired of the Vietnam War and Watergate, Americans focused their interest on home cooking. Tired too of the cla.s.sical or codified approach to anything, cooks turned to American regional food and to ethnic food, as evidenced by the broad array of new cookbooks: Diana Kennedy, articles, which gave real (not home economist's) recipes. If you were a good person, you made your own ice cream, notes Sheraton, it was almost a moral imperative. If you were a serious cook, you bought a Garland range. Perhaps because they were tired of the Vietnam War and Watergate, Americans focused their interest on home cooking. Tired too of the cla.s.sical or codified approach to anything, cooks turned to American regional food and to ethnic food, as evidenced by the broad array of new cookbooks: Diana Kennedy, The Cuisines of Mexico; The Cuisines of Mexico; Madhur Jaffrey, Madhur Jaffrey, An Invitation to Indian Cooking; An Invitation to Indian Cooking; Marcella Hazan, Marcella Hazan, The Cla.s.sic Italian Cook Book; The Cla.s.sic Italian Cook Book; Paula Wolfert, Paula Wolfert, Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco.

America was also waking up to problems in food. The health food counterculture, begun as early as the 1890s, surged in the 1960s and, with each new scientific study, grew steadily through the 1970s. Julia eagerly read and investigated all the reports, beginning with Rachel Carson's Silent Spring Silent Spring (1962) and the first studies on cholesterol in 1969. She was also aware of a young woman who opened a small restaurant in California in 1971 called Chez Panisse, where only organic foods and garden produce were served: Alice Waters would become the mother of what was then an intellectual and bohemian approach to food, eventually labeled California cuisine. "I'm [also] interested in the freshness and goodness of produce," Julia told reporter Susan Rogers, but then pointed out that there are not enough horses for the manure to feed 200 million people organically. "Several hundred people per day are dying of hunger in Pakistan; there's a need for scientific agriculture," she insisted. (1962) and the first studies on cholesterol in 1969. She was also aware of a young woman who opened a small restaurant in California in 1971 called Chez Panisse, where only organic foods and garden produce were served: Alice Waters would become the mother of what was then an intellectual and bohemian approach to food, eventually labeled California cuisine. "I'm [also] interested in the freshness and goodness of produce," Julia told reporter Susan Rogers, but then pointed out that there are not enough horses for the manure to