Rachel and Julia...Omelettes!

Rachel here: One of the perks to having a baby is the justification of television watching. We don't have cable at our house and so the options are often pretty grim. However, on Saturdays here, there are tons of cooking shows on public television. One recent Saturday there was a Julia Child marathon. The whole thing was awesome, but the episode that really caught my attention was the egg episode. Click here to watch a clip from the episode. I swear you, too, will want to make omelettes afterwards!

I should warn you, though. I can make an omelette, sure. But a Julia Child omelette is a whole different beast. While she makes it look effortless, as you might be able to tell from my picture (which is really only half an omelette since I had the brilliant idea to make a giant omelette for John and I to share...not recommended when you're trying to master a new technique. Fewer eggs would definitely have been easier!), it's a little more complex than Julia makes it seem.

I'm determined, though, to master these scrumptious french omelettes. John can make them and, really, they're superior to their overcooked counterpart that serves as the standard. When done right, they're incredibly soft and gooey. I'll keep you posted as my efforts continue. In the meantime, I can recommend the insides I chose to stuff our omelette with (heirloom tomatoes, white onion, ricotta and goat cheeses) and serving it with a side salad of arugula. Even in an overcooked omelette I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy your meal.

Books That Make Us Hungry: The Way to Cook by Julia Child

Rachel here: For several years now, I have lived in a house that has Julia Child cookbooks in it (I don't recall any in my mother's stash from growing up). In my head, though, they have always been John's. Sure, this is partly because he has bought them and received them as gifts; it is also partly due to the esteem he holds for his books and Julia in general. I think the real reason, though, is that John is hands-down, without a doubt a better cook than me. Since he loves all things Julia Child so much, I think I relegated her cookbooks to a shelf in my head reserved for cookbooks for those who can really cook. What I'd neglected to consider, though, until the other morning, is that John hates pretension and would never love a cook or cookbook that was as inaccessible as I'd preemptively decided all things Julia must be.

Anyone who's ever realized their morning slipped away while they watched old Julia Child cooking shows on PBS knows that this is a woman who cooked for the love of food and people. I knew this, and yet still considered her cookbooks off limits. The other morning, though, over a cup of coffee and my breakfast, I found myself completely ensnared by her The Way to Cook for over an hour. Like Alice B. Toklas (who I blogged about here), Child winds a narrative around food that is both sensuous and sensible, hilarious and hunger-inducing. Most importantly, though, after spending time with the book, I felt like I could actually attempt most of the recipes in it. Ingeniously organized to facilitate the acquisition of a true understanding of food (for instance, foods that cook similarly are grouped together, so instead of looking up pork chops and veal chops separately she teaches you how to cook one and then informs you that you can apply the same techniques to the other), Child even goes so far as to inform you which are the easier recipes and which are more involved, thereby also guiding you through the learning process. I really felt like I could approach her cooking, though, when I saw her note on cornbread. On page 59 she writes that for "cornbread baked in the traditional square pan...I usually use the recipe on the Quaker cornmeal box." *Swoon* While she advises elsewhere in the book to withhold the sugar in cornbread if making it as part of a stuffing, I found this little passage incredibly revealing and exciting. Whereas so many cookbook authors' egos would have necessitated their own twist on cornbread, Child possesses and displays the humbleness to say, "If it ain't broke, why fix it?" Even if the rest of her book weren't so expertly concocted, this mentality alone would induce me to follow her lead.

Anyway, have any of you embarked on your own Julia Child culinary adventures? If so, we'd love to hear about them. In the meantime, though, I'd highly recommend this book for your own collection or as a gift to a burgeoning cook (I am thinking every college graduate should get a copy).