Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Julia Child? Maybe Not...

A few weeks ago, I watched the Meryl Streep movie Julie and Julia. I have a secret love/hate relationship with cooking. I love the idea of being able to cook; getting lost in the flavours, the aromas, reveling in the knowledge that I could be a snobbish foodie discussing exotic herbs and spices, hosting formal dinner parties with just the right wine for each course of the meal. But, I hate the idea of not measuring up- perfectionist tendencies kick into high gear when I play the role of chef, and then spiral quickly downward into a pit of despair when my meal is a disastrous flop. And, of course, the easy fall back excuse for many of us- I don't have the time. But, after watching this movie, I was once again inspired by the desire to find another new escape, and one that I could either enjoy in solitude, or share the fruits of with my family and friends.

Briefly, the movie is a parallel between the rise of Julia Child as a chef in the late 1940's, and 'Julie', a struggling writer in 2002. Julie feels as though her life is stuck, and in an effort to complete at least one thing that she starts, she decides to prepare each recipe from Julia Child's cookbook Mastering The Art of French Cooking, all within the time frame of one year. To compound the pressure, she creates an online blog to record her cooking journey, and hopefully, hook some readers into following her bizarre personal quest, which documents not only her kitchen successes and catastrophes, but also exposes her fears and vulnerabilities as a writer, a cook, and a woman. Hence, the immediate connection I felt to the character of 'Julie', and the parallel I drew between her blog and mine. One minor difference- her blog drew thousands of readers, and eventually a book contract. Hmmm, maybe the cooking was the deal maker.

Always on the hunt for my next big inspiration, or even just a hint of one to make a bad day good again, I have decided to borrow Julie's idea in a much more condensed version, and probably, a lot less healthy. I love chocolate, as you all know. And I love to bake. My new goal- create one chocolate recipe each week. I'm not going to limit myself to one particular cook book, to new recipes, to tried and true recipes; the only requirement is that at least one of the ingredients is some form of chocolate (see the new addition to my Blog's sidebar "Chocolate Recipes"). This past Sunday seemed like a perfect day to begin my own bizarre quest. I had the whole day stretched out in front of me with no commitments, no children, and no urgent school work looming. Not being able to use my faithful 'I have no time to cook' excuse, I decided to expand my mission to a full meal. A quick visit to one of my favourite recipe websites "Epicurious" (see my favourite links list), and I had the ingredient list for chicken parmesan with a spicy tomato sauce. Added to my list were a bed of greens sprinkled with a touch of balsamic vinegar, and of course, the necessary items for my Aunt Jean's Mix Easy Cake, which includes a triple layering of chocolate. I felt completely justified in this guilty undertaking, following an 8km run which, unbelievably, energized me for the cooking/baking party that I was hosting for myself. The aroma of the freshly minced garlic, combined with the sizzling of the chopped onion, basil, oregano, marjoram, and hot yellow peppers, all allowed me to begin the gradual process of getting lost in my cooking. As the rest of the ingredients were added to the spicy tomato sauce, the simmering smell filled my home, and I actually felt like a real cook. An hour and a half later, I sat down with my plate decorated with the chicken parmesan layered delicately on my bed of greens, coupled with penne pasta smothered in my hot sauce, all while the smell of my Aunt Jean's cake was wafting from the oven and slowly overtaking the lingering scents of the main course.

Stuffed beyond being able to do up my jeans (if I had been wearing jeans-I was still in my running gear), I forced- ok maybe that word choice is too strong- I persuaded myself to complete the masterpiece of my meal. I expertly timed the icing of the cake. Warm, but not hot, as I smothered my own simple recipe of chocolate icing on top of the cake to ooze slightly into the top layer. If the timing is off by even a few minutes, the icing will either drip and slide to the edges of the pan leaving a bald spot in the middle of the cake, or if it is too cool, the icing covers the cake like a blanket on a baby instead of melting its gooey flavours together into one big chocoate orgasm of flavour.

Content in mind and stomach, I ended my evening with a relaxing cup of green tea, knowing that I was prepared for the barrage of the week ahead. And, once again, the images of that cooking class in the Tuscan Valley of Italy were playing like a friendly old movie in my head.