Today's Reading
INTRODUCTION
Santa Barbara, California
September 2002
Julia turned her face into the hot Santa Ana wind, which had swept in as if it owned the place, whipping the linen curtains, aerating the small room like a cook whisking cream. Beyond were masses of white peaks...rising from the blue Pacific, a fearsome force that could turn bleak and threatening in a moment, or mournful, or sparkling with promise. She'd seen every one of those moods during her ship's March 1944 passage into the unknown. On those far shores, her life had really begun, which was to say she began to live. Even amid the darkness that was World War II.
It was in Asia that her taste buds came alive—all her senses, to be frank. Every day was a discovery. Here, from her desk, where a characterless computer had replaced her trusty old Royal, she filled her lungs with the tangy scents of sage, eucalyptus, jasmine, and sweet peas...which transported her to the Kunming Flower Circle—and the outdoor market where she'd bought the garter belt and stockings. Shocking, wasn't it? Not what you'd expect from Julia Child.
How ever had she become an icon? That had surprised even her. To her audiences, she was a dear friend, a favorite teacher, or an aunt. They invited her into their homes and watched her television show, tried her recipes. It was her great pleasure to have been part of their lives, shared her passion for good French food, and wished them, "'Bon appétit'." They told her they felt as if they knew her. But they knew Julia Child, The French Chef. That was her creation.
Julia McWilliams was a born performer—and writer and director, producing costume dramas in her family's Pasadena attic. The lanky leader of the neighborhood pack, Julia was well cast as a buccaneer, less so the delicate romantic lead. Then, too, there was "the Voice," inherited, like her height, from Mother Caro. The way it swooped and fluttered, entirely out of her control...well, it used to pain her no end, until Paul advised her to relax and simply be. To know you is to love you, he'd told her eons ago in China, when he finally came to see her charms.
Her husband had been her rock and inspiration, until a long illness carried him away. With him went half her heart. The other half, surprisingly, continued to beat, and she continued to be Julia Child. People depended on her and loved her; it wasn't the same as Paul's love, but it sustained her. That, and a good roast chicken, a hearty Burgundy, and fresh crusty bread. Yet she often doubted she could carry on or that it was worth it. Then she would hear her mother's firm counsel: You must keep your chin up and move forward. So she had to.
She'd always known she was meant for something, a belief she had confided to her girlhood diary but not dared proclaim aloud. Now she had crossed into the twenty-first century, where it was normal for a young woman to be ambitious. Few could imagine the shame she'd felt at wanting to achieve. Paul helped her break through that nonsense, too. When they moved to Paris, he encouraged her to stand up to those pompous (male) chefs and keep at it.
How hard she'd worked. But she did it. Imagine, mastering the art of French cuisine—and bringing it to the world. Yet she would not have become that woman without her experiences in the cauldron of WWII, where she'd learned what she could really do. Memories of those days still had the power to shake her. The war demanded everything of them, and so they gave everything. Some of them survived, but none were ever the same. Simply put, the war made her.
It was a path that still astonished her. The dreams and stubborn will that put her there, the chances she took&If she hadn't dared reach for that frontline post in Asia and stepped into the unknown, she would have never met the man of her life, Paul Child. She would have become someone else, not Julia Child.
PART ONE
Keeper of the Secrets
CHAPTER ONE
Washington, DC
September 1943
Cowboys, General "Wild Bill" Donovan's foes called the intrepid OSS operatives who served their nation around the globe. Adventurers. Even daredevils. Yet how could that be a bad thing when you had the world to save? Julia was proud to be doing her bit at the Office of Strategic Services—America's first intelligence agency, created by Donovan under President Roosevelt's mandate. A World War I Medal of Honor winner, he often proclaimed, "You can't succeed without taking chances."
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