I don’t feel like I have much of a relationship with Julia Child.  I am too young to have seen most of her shows, and I’ve not even cracked the cover of “The Art of French Cooking”, though my mom’s copy sits on my shelf.  With all of the talk of her the last year with the new film and her upcoming birthday, I’ve honestly felt a little left out.

But I spent some time last night at the Smithsonian Museum’s exhibit of her kitchen.  Her actual kitchen, filled with all her knives and pots and pans.  Monitors play clips of her history of programs, and from every wall her grinning countenance and sage advice speaks down at you.  And my grin started to match hers.

I realized that even though I’ve not worked my way through her cookbooks, I still know Julia.  We’re pals.  It is because of what she did that I can do what I do – approach food from my own kitchen, experiment, write, and explore, and feel comfortable doing it.  Because the grand dame Julia Child drops omelets too.

The event was a dedication ceremony for the new film Julie & Julia – Nora Ephron was on hand to give the museum a costume, several storyboards, and a copy of the script.  As star-struck as I was by her presence (and getting to shake her hand!  I haven’t washed it yet…), I was even more enamored by the other new addition to the collection – Julia’s copper pots and pans, given to the museum after their removal from the now closed COPIA center in California.

There’s been a lot of back and forth about the new movie – they love it, they hate it, they’re indifferent.  But whatever this one portrayal might mean, there is no doubting the power and personality of this woman, who would have been a giant even if she weren’t over 6 feet tall.  It will be worth seeing for any homage to that.

I’m going to a screening next wednesday – I’ll report back then!

PS – In case you’ve been to the exhibit and ever wondered why the clock on the wall reads 12:40 – I got to ask one of the curators, part of “Team Julia”, the 4 people who run the exhibit.  Apparently that was the time when the first piece of the kitchen was dismantled and boxed up to be sent to the museum.  So the kitchen is forever frozen in that moment.