Julia vs. Martha
A few years back when Julia Child was alive and cooking, she made an appearance on Martha Stewart’s show. I remember it like it was yesterday, two grand ladies side-by-side. Julia, the first lady of French cuisine in the U.S with the distinct honor of having taught Americans how to eat the way the French do and Martha, Connecticut’s first lady showing Americans how to eat and live in style—the way she did.
On this particular episode they were both making a Croquenbouche, a French dessert made by creating a conical-shaped tree that is about 15 inches tall (38 cm). The tree is built by creating a brick-like assembly using profiteroles; small choux pastries filled with pastry cream which are held together with caramel.
Julia was now in her 90’s, leaning over and resting her entire body on her fist atop the table, while Martha was in her prime. As the two were working away each had a technique with a different ambition: Julia, passionately creating an organic, loosely shaped conical structure. Martha, mastering the art of perfection. By the time they were finished, Julia was exhausted, and with great deference Martha looked on Julia’s Croquenbouche—with kindness. I was entranced by both, the old guard and the new, the misshapen and the scientific. But I remember feeling anguish for Julia because at that time I admired perfection and didn’t appreciate the beauty in what she created.
When the idea behind Poetry of Food was still nascent, this episode replayed in my mind over and over, and it helped me be clear on what I didn’t want this food memoir to be. I didn’t want to pursue perfection, nor promote it. Far too often we miss out on what is good blinded by our search for the best. This path can be void of experiences good or bad.
I wanted this memoir to be about poetry and not perfection, where mistakes are a rich part of the story, and where the trials and tribulations become the seasonings that make it all memorable.
I confess that at the time I didn’t quite know Julia Child’s value, her wisdom and her poetic style of cooking. A lesson learned that I will recount over the many meals that will guide us as we eat our way through this food memoir.
Rony Zibara
Editor-In-Chief and the gourmand-gourmet behind Poetry of Food; a food memoir which has been in preparation since he was a child. His earliest memories are in the kitchen with his mother cooking French and Lebanese dishes, and with his South American grandmother making Spanish dishes as the cook prepared a repertoire of salsas and sauces. Having grown up in Beirut and lived between Paris, Toronto and now New York, Rony’s food and travel experiences have always been part of his personal cuisine. An avid storyteller, he believes it’s not about the size of the catch, but about the day. It’s the experience, the setting, the people, and most importantly, the ingredients that turn the meal and the flavors into a memory. While not a professionally trained chef, Rony is a cook by all counts; his life revolves around the culinary joys of food, searching out new ingredients, new recipes, and new cultures. And while he loves the restaurant scene, he is not an obsessed follower. Rony’s food passions lie in the poetry of the everyday meal and not in the pursuit of the absolute ‘best’ or perfect meal. His extensive career in innovating and branding new products and experiences has been a great support and backdrop for his passions in food culture and is evident in the overall design and presentation of this food memoir.