Thread Rating:
  • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
The cook is dead
#1
Julia Child

NEW YORK - Julia Child, whose warbling, encouraging voice and able hands brought the intricacies of French cuisine to American home cooks through her television series and books, died in her sleep three days before what would have been her 92nd birthday.

"America has lost a true national treasure," Nicholas Latimer, director of publicity for Alfred A. Knopf publishing, said in a statement Friday. "She will be missed terribly."


The statement said she died Thursday at her home in Santa Barbara, Calif. The cause of death was not given.


A 6-foot-2 American folk hero, "The French Chef" was known to her public as Julia, and preached a delight not only in good food but in sharing it, ending her landmark public television lessons at a set table and with the wish, "Bon appetit."


"Dining with one's friends and beloved family is certainly one of life's primal and most innocent delights, one that is both soul-satisfying and eternal," she said in the introduction to her seventh book, "The Way to Cook." "In spite of food fads, fitness programs, and health concerns, we must never lose sight of a beautifully conceived meal."


Chipper and unpretentious, she beckoned everyone to give good food a try. She wasn't always tidy in the kitchen, and just like the rest of us, she sometimes dropped things or had trouble getting a cake out of its mold.


In an A-line skirt and blouse, and an apron with a dish towel tucked into the waist, Julia Child grew familiar enough to be parodied by Dan Aykroyd (news) on NBC's "Saturday Night Live" and the subject of Jean Stapleton's musical revue, "Bon Appetit." She was on the cover of Time magazine in 1966.


Active and a frequent traveler in her 80s, Child credited good genes and a habit begun in her 40s of eating everything in moderation.


Susy Davidson, a consultant who worked with Child on "Good Morning America," called Child's friendship a great gift.


"She's helped me redefine age, No. 1," Davidson once said. "She is the standard by which I judge all professionals. She's always eager to learn something, to try something new. She just has this generosity of spirit."


She was foremost a teacher and never lost sight of the goal set out in volume one of "Mastering the Art of French Cooking": "Anyone can cook in the French manner anywhere, with the right instruction. Our hope is that this book will be helpful in giving that instruction."


Like her friend James Beard, Child was influenced but not battered by the popularity of fast food, low-fat food, health food.


She aimed "The Way to Cook" at a new generation and while it offered plenty of recipes using butter and cream, it left room for experimentation and variation in its blend of classic French and free-style American techniques. It was a hit, with nearly 400,000 copies in print just four months after publication.


She worried, however, that the health craze was overdone.


"What's dangerous and discouraging about this era is that people really are afraid of their food," she told The Associated Press in 1989. "Sitting down to dinner is a trap, not something to enjoy. People should take their food more seriously. Learn what you can eat and enjoy it thoroughly."


Child did not take a cooking lesson until she was in her 30s. And she was in her 50s when her first television series began in 1963.


Born in Pasadena, Calif., Child once said she was raised on so-so cooking by hired cooks.





She graduated from Smith College in 1934 with a history degree and aspirations to be a novelist or a writer for the New Yorker magazine. Instead, she ended up in the publicity department of a New York City furniture and rug chain.

When World War II began, she joined the Office of Strategic Services, the forerunner of the CIA (news - web sites). She was sent off to do clerical chores in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), where she met Paul Child, a career diplomat who later became a photographer and painter, on the porch of a tea planter's bungalow in 1943.

They married in 1946 and two years later were sent to Paris.

Child enrolled in the famed Cordon Bleu cooking school, motivated at least in part by a desire to cook for her epicure husband. She was considered a bit odd by her friends, who all had hired help in the kitchen.

"I'd been looking for my life's work all along," she told the AP. "And when I got into cooking I found it. I was inspired by the tremendous seriousness with which they took it."

In France, she also met Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholle, with whom she collaborated on "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," which was nine years in the making and became mandatory for anyone who took cooking seriously.

It was published in 1961 and was followed by "The French Chef Cookbook"; "Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Vol. II," with Beck; "From Julia Child's Kitchen"; "Julia Child & Company"; "Julia Child & More Company"; and "The Way to Cook," in October 1989.

She was 51 when she made her television debut as "The French Chef." The series began in 1963 and continued for 206 episodes. Child won a Peabody award in 1965 and an Emmy in 1966, and went on to star in several more series for Boston's WGBH-TV.

Russell Morash, Child's director from the beginning, recalled her as "spontaneous from the outset, a natural television talent — very relaxed but very professional."

"I happened to be the right woman at the right time," she said, noting that John F. Kennedy had a French chef at the White House and more Americans were traveling abroad.

Since the 1980s, she devoted attention to promoting the serious study of food and cooking. She co-founded the American Institute of Wine and Food in San Francisco in 1981 and co-founded the James Beard Foundation in New York City in 1986.

More recently, she teamed with fellow television chef Jacques Pepin for the 1994 PBS special, "Julia Child & Jacques Pepin: Cooking in Concert" and a 1996 sequel, "More Cooking in Concert."

Paul Child died in 1994, and in late 2001, Julia Child, a longtime resident of Cambridge, Mass., moved to Santa Barbara. The couple had no children.
<!-- Start CGISpy.com Random Image Code -->
<img src="http://scripts.cgispy.com/image.cgi?u=BITENY"><br>
<!-- End CGISpy.com Random Image Code -->
Reply
#2
Death to the first person who bemoans that she had to die before Ant could do his impression of her dying on the radio.
&lt;img src=&quot;http://www.blazingconcepts.com/img/syd/sloatsig.jpg&quot;&gt;

________________________________________________________________________________________
&lt;center&gt;Boy the way Glen Miller played,
songs that made the hit parade,
guys like us we had it made,
those were the days,
and you know where you were then,
girls were girls and men were men,
mister we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again,
didn't need no welfare states
everybody pulled his weight,
gee our old Lasalle ran great,
those were the days!&lt;/center&gt;
Reply
#3
Hmmmm.

How would season her corpse?

I think a nice cajun rub, and throw her on the rotisserie.
&lt;IMG SRC=&quot;http://www.b17sam.com/files/kilroy.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;IMG SRC=&quot;http://www.imagemagician.org/images/oldirty1/assjiggle.gif&quot;&gt;
Reply
#4
wow


first Rick James, and now this.
[Image: zoolander1.jpg]


[marquee]The trouble with the world is everybody in it is 3 drinks behind - Humphrey Bogart[/marquee]
Reply
#5
Montreal Seasoning
<img src="http://scripts.cgispy.com/image.cgi?u=Rooner"><br>
<marquee><font size=1 color=blue><b>Some people are like Slinkies . . . not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs. </b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=green><b> Yo I can't sing it I feel like singin I wanna fucking sing Cos i'm happy Yeh, i'm happy HaHa I got my baby back Yo, check it out Some days i sit, staring out the window Watchin' this world pass me by Sometimes i think theres nothing to live for I almost break down and cry Somtimes i think i'm crazy I'm crazy, oh so crazy Why am i here, am i just wasting my time? But then i see my baby Suddenly i'm not crazy It all makes sense when i look into her eyes Somtimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders Everyone's leaning on me Cos sometimes it feels like the world's almost over But then she come back to me My baby girl [hailey laughs] keeps gettin' older I watch her grow up with pride People make jokes, cos they don't understand me They just dont see my real side I act like shit, dont phase me, Inside it drives me crazy My insecurities could eat me alive But then i see my baby Suddenly i'm not crazy It all makes sense when i look into her eyes Yeh and if i could sing, i'd keep singing this song to my daughter If i could hit the notes, i'd blow something as long as my father To show her how i feel about her, how proud i am that i got 'er God, im a daddy, im so glad that her mum didn't (abort her) Now you prob'ly get this picture from my public persona That i'm a pistol-packing drug-addict who bags on his momma, But i wanna just take this time out to be perfectly honest Cos there's a lot of shit i keep bottled that hurts deep inside o' ma soul, And just know that i grow colder the older i grow This boulder on my shoulder that gets heavy and harder to hold And this load is like the weight of the world And i think my neck is breaking should i just give up Or try to live up to these expectations? now look, I love my daughter more than life in itself, But i got a wife who's determined to make my life living hell But i handle it well, given the circumstances i'm dealt So many chances, man, it's too bad, coulda had someone else But the years that i've wasted are nothing to the tears that ive tasted So here's what im facin: 3 felonies, 6 years of probation I've went to jail for this woman, i've been to bat for this woman I've taken bats to people' backs, bent over backwards for this woman Man, i shoulda seen it comin, what i stick my penis uppin? Woulda ripped the pre-nup if i'd seen what she was fuckin But fuck it, it's over, there's no more reason to cry no more I got my baby, maybe the only lady that i adore, haley So sayonara, try tomorra, nice to know ya My baby's travelled back to the arms of her rightful owner And suddenly it seems that my shoulder blades have just shifted Its like the greatest gift you can get The weight has been lifted Woow! I told you, i can't sing. Oh well, i tried Haley, remember when i said If you ever need anything, daddy will be right there? Well guess what, daddy's here. And i ain't goin nowhere baby I love you (kiss)</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=yellow><b>We’ve been waitin’ for a long time Yes, we’ve been waitin’ for a long, long time We’ve been waitin’ for a long time But we ain’t gonna wait no more We’re getting’ ready to rock & roll We’re gonna - 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3! Well, there’s a reason everybody should be shakin’ in the house tonight And you should grab your favorite lady and promise her you’ll do it right. Tell Fat Jack to jump back and give you a shot of some booze So you can party to some stomp-down, butt-bumpin’, rock & roll, rhythm & blues. ‘Cause the boys are back in town. The boys are back in town. I know that everybody when they hear the music will be doin’ it on the floor Jump up and down they turn around and tell the band to play some more ‘Cause tonight you can dance and romance and do anything you feel like doin’ But don’t look surprised ‘cause you know what I like and tonight we ought to do it ‘Cause the boys are back in town. The boys are back in town. Oh, yeah. Well, there’s a reason everybody should be shakin’ in the house tonight And you should grab your favorite lady and promise her you’ll do it right Tell Fat Jack to jump back and give you a shot of some booze So you can party to some stomp-down, butt-bumpin’, rock & roll, rhythm & blues. ‘Cause the boys are back in town. The boys are back in town. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! The boys are back in town. And when the boys are back, There ain’t no foolin’ around!
</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=orange><b>Please allow me to introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste I’ve been around for a long, long year Stole many a man’s soul and faith And I was ’round when jesus christ Had his moment of doubt and pain Made damn sure that pilate Washed his hands and sealed his fate Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game I stuck around st. petersburg When I saw it was a time for a change Killed the czar and his ministers Anastasia screamed in vain I rode a tank Held a general’s rank When the blitzkrieg raged And the bodies stank Pleased to meet you Hope you guess my name, oh yeah Ah, what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, oh yeah I watched with glee While your kings and queens Fought for ten decades For the gods they made I shouted out, Who killed the kennedys? When after all It was you and me Let me please introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste And I laid traps for troubadours Who get killed before they reached bombay Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah But what’s confusing you Is just the nature of my game Just as every cop is a criminal And all the sinners saints As heads is tails Just call me lucifer ’cause I’m in need of some restraint So if you meet me Have some courtesy Have some sympathy, and some taste Use all your well-learned politesse Or I’ll lay your soul to waste, um yeah Pleased to meet you Hope you guessed my name, um yeah But what’s puzzling you Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down Woo, who Oh yeah, get on down Oh yeah Oh yeah! Tell me baby, what’s my name Tell me honey, can ya guess my name Tell me baby, what’s my name I tell you one time, you’re to blame Ooo, who Ooo, who Ooo, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Oh, yeah What’s me name Tell me, baby, what’s my name Tell me, sweetie, what’s my name Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Ooo, who, who Oh, yeah</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=red><b>Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys They'll never stay home and they're always alone Even with someone they love Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's each night begins a new day And if you don't understand him and he don't die young He'll probly just ride away Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys They'll never stay home and they're always alone Even with someone they love Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountian moringin's Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night And them that don't know him won't like him And them that do sometimes won't know how to take him He ain't wrong he's just different but his pride won't let him do things to make you think he's right Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys They'll never stay home and they're always alone Even with someone they love Mama don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such</b></font></marquee><marquee><font size=1 color=grey><b>What dey gives you blood? Three months man Whatchu doin in here anyway? You oughta be home with your momma How old are you boy? Thirteen Thirteen? Damn, the bastards must be runnin outta niggaz to arrest Yeah, ohh yeah, this goes out to all the families that went through the struggle Yeah, from the heart It was from the heart, everything was real All that I got is you And I'm so thankful I made it through Yo, dwellin in the past, flashbacks when I was young Whoever thought that I'd have a baby girl and three sons I'm goin through this difficult stage I find it hard to believe Why my old Earth had so many seeds But she's an old woman, and due to me I respect that I saw life for what it's really worth and took a step back Family ain't family no more, we used to play ball Eggs after school, eat grits cause we was poor Grab the pliers for the channel, fix the hanger on the TV Rockin each others pants to school wasn't easy We survived winters, snotty nosed with no coats We kept it real, but the older brother still had jokes Sadly, daddy left me at the age of six I didn't know nuttin but mommy neatly packed his shit She cried, and grandma held the family down I guess mommy wasn't strong enough, she just went down Check it, fifteen of us in a three bedroom apartment Roaches everywhere, cousins and aunts was there Four in the bed, two at the foot, two at the head I didn't like to sleep with Jon-Jon he peed the bed Seven o'clock, pluckin roaches out the cereal box Some shared the same spoon, watchin saturday cartoons Sugar water was our thing, every meal was no thrill In the summer, free lunch held us down like steel And there was days I had to go to Tex house with a note Stating "Gloria can I borrow some food I'm dead broke" So embarrasin I couldn't stand to knock on they door My friends might be laughin, I spent stamps in stores Mommy where's the toilet paper, use the newspaper Look Ms. Rose gave us a couch, she's the neighbor Things was deep, my whole youth was sharper than cleats Two brothers with muscular dystrophy, it killed me But I remember this, mom's would lick her finger tips To wipe the cold out my eye before school wit her spit Case worker had her runnin back to face to face I caught a case, housin tried to throw us out of our place Sometimes I look up at the stars and analyze the sky And ask myself was I meant to be here... why? Yeah, yo All that I got is you And I'm so thankful I made it through Word up mommy, I love you Word up It was all you, word, you brought me in like this I sit and think about All the times we did without, yeah I always said I woudn't cry When I saw tears in your eyes I understand that daddy's not here now But some way or somehow, I will always be around, yeah All things that I did from this to them Oh from drugs to being there Being down and out and I love you always Yeah, you say You see the universe, which consists of the sun moon and star And them planets, that exist in my space Like man woman and child You understand? We got to keep it real, and what reality and reality will keep it real with us I remember them good ol days Because see, that's the child I was What made me the man I am today See cause if you forget where you come from, heheh You're never gonna make it where you're goin, aheh Because you lost the reality of yourself So take one stroll through your mind And see what you will find And you'll see a whole universe all over again and again and again and again and again Heheheh, yeah heheheheh ahaheheheh
</b></font></marquee>
<marquee><font size=1 color=blue><b>The old Cherokee chief sat in his reservation hut, smoking the ceremonial pipe, eyeing the two US government officials sent to interview him. "Chief Two Eagles," one official began, "you have observed the white man for many generations, you have seen his wars and his products, you have seen all his progress, and all his problems." The chief nodded. The official continued, "Considering recent events,in your opinion,where has the white man gone wrong? " The chief stared at the government officials for over a minute, and then calmly replied. "When white man found the land, Indians were running it. No taxes. No debt. Plenty buffalo, Plenty beaver. Women did most of the work. Medicine man free. Indian men hunted and fished all the time" . The chief smiled, and added quietly, "White man dumb enough to think he could improve system like that."</b></font></marquee>
Reply
#6
Quote:A 6-foot-2 American folk hero

Was this standing straight up? Or hunched over?
&lt;img src=&quot;http://img.photobucket.com/albums/1003/wilbraforce/sigs/headersig.jpg&quot;&gt;
Reply
#7
Every true chef knows that Julia Child is to be marinated in Wine only.
&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://scripts.cgispy.com/image.cgi?u=BlackLazerus2&quot;&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
Reply
#8
Ya know they always dies in threes. Rick James, Fay Wray, and now Julia Childs.

I Remember one time she made a rum cake or somthing that involved liquor, and she got so bombed on the show, it was hilarious. But the cake looked damn good none the less.

I loved watching her show when i was younger and shes was actually the reason i took up cooking as one of my favorite hobbies.

Although it was fun to make fun of her somtimes, ya know when i was cooking somthing or watching my own mother cook, i still had much respect for her and craft that she showed daily on her tv show.

She was truely an icon of America and will truely be missed.
Reply
#9
Quote:Originally posted by JJ
Ya know they always dies in threes. Rick James, Fay Wray, and now Julia Childs.

I think she is part #2 of the tv chef three. First the frugal gourmet and now her.

Who will be next? I pray Rachel Ray.
&lt;img src=&quot;http://img.photobucket.com/albums/1003/wilbraforce/sigs/headersig.jpg&quot;&gt;
Reply
#10
Quote:I Remember one time she made a rum cake or somthing that involved liquor, and she got so bombed on the show, it was hilarious. But the cake looked damn good none the less.

She always got bombed that was why she was so funny
&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://scripts.cgispy.com/image.cgi?u=BlackLazerus2&quot;&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
Reply


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 3 Guest(s)