What better place to stage a culinary reinvention than in Julia Child’s beloved country cottage in France.
The steaming bœuf en daube à la Provence is unlike any braised pot roast I’ve ever tasted … so tender and tasty with its rich caramelized onions and hearty wine sauce. A crusty baguette pokes out of a breadbasket and our glasses sparkle with a local wine, a Bagnol. I have brought a group of American foodies to La Pitchoune, where chef Kathie Alex gives cooking classes, and six of us are now gathered around the dining table in this charming rose-covered cottage, enjoying the first meal of our week-long visit.But this isn’t just any country cottage. Nestled among olive trees on a grassy hillside, about 30 minutes from Nice in southeast France, this is where Julia Child wrote parts of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume Two. For those who saw Julie and Julia, with Meryl Streep’s high-pitched portrayal of the legendary chef, this is where her story continues in France, in the mid-1960s. This is the little house, peaceful and quiet, that she and her husband Paul built, and where they regularly entertained guests such as James Beard, the dean of American cookery.
Coincidentally, boeuf en daube is the last meal Julia made before finally leaving her beloved “La Peetch” in the summer of 1992. When asked if she wasn’t going to miss it, she supposedly replied with a shrug: “I’ve always felt when I’m done with something I just walk away from it – fin!”
Endings and new beginnings, second acts, are on my mind as the delectable daube makes its way around the table. Five years ago, I was confronted with the “R” word … early RETIREMENT. I’d worked for the same magazine company for 30 years, and the editing routines were etched deeply in my psyche. Then one Monday … poof … no job. I felt the same head-scratching, stomach churning uncertainty of a teenager starting out: What to do? What now? All the free time was scary. Other changes rocked my world too. Like not having the professional safety net of a big name magazine identity. Or the familiar faces around me. Or the six-figure salary.
One day my daughter Kathleen mentioned a TV program about an American leading culinary trips to Italy. “You could do that in France, Mom,” she said. “You know, you’d take groups to special restaurants, hire chefs and visit artisanal shops. From your student days in France and all your travels, you know a lot about the country, you speak French – and, heck, you love to cook. It would be revitalizing for clients AND for you.”
