I just watched Julie and Julia. And, scarily enough, loved the film and empathised with many moments in the film.
From Julia’s attempts to decode the French cook books and my recent struggles with the Swiss sauce packets to her ecstatic visits to the Parisian local markets, reminiscent of the little markets that we saw in Lucerne and Berne. The rhapsodies on butter. Julie’s deifying Julia and my altar to Tony Bourdain. Julie’s blogging night after night, wondering who read her blog. The thrill of the first comment. And better still, the first comment from someone she didn’t know. Wondering just how much of her life to share. Her secrets known by her boss at work. Living a second life into the wee hours of the morning. Fielding questions such as ‘but who reads your blog’. Explaining what blogs mean to mothers and others from the brick and mortar world. The dreams of writing books. The encouraging spouses. The breath of fresh air from blogging. Surreptitious glances at strangers the day Julie’s interview came out in the papers. The rich colours of red meat. The cheese shops. The gushing and encouraging friends. Surreal.
Gosh I need to see a good Bond or Rambo flick soon for self affirmation.
But I would strongly recommend Julie and Julia to any blogger and food lover.
Ironically the snacks we ordered at PVR, Phoenix were lame, specially the bready hot dog and the stuffy samosa … an insult to the film in which food was a religion. A Hindi film song came on as Julia walked the markets of Paris. Yash Chopra in the projection room? And the projection overshot the screen which was so not done for such expensive seats. But still a lovely film about food, in lazy chairs, with fellow food lovers and (why am I not surprised) a row full of fellow Bengalis discussing plans to meet over fish and mutton soon sitting in front of us and oohing and aahing everytime food was shown on the screen… yes it was a lovely evening at the movies.
