In honor of Julia Child's 97th birthday, a poem from her husband Paul from 1961....

[Rowdyboy]

Birthday 1961

O Julia, Julia, cook and nifty wench,
Whose unsurpassed quenelles and hot souffles,
Whose English, Norse and German, and whose French,
Are all beyond my piteous powers to praise --
Whose sweetly rounded bottom and whose legs,
Whose gracious face, whose nature temperate,
Are only equalled by her scrambled eggs:

Accept from me, your ever-loving mate,
This acclamation shaped in fourteen lines
Whose inner truth belies its outer sight;
For never were there foods, nor were there wines
Whose flavor equals yours for sheer delight.
O luscious dish! O gustatory pleasure!
You satisfy my taste buds beyond measure.

PAUL CHILD



(crossposted from GD)


http://www.nytimes.com/1997/10/08/dining/light-s-still-on-julia-child-as-her-soul-mate-wanted.html?pagewanted=all

[hippywife]

1. What wonderful and sensual praise!

He covers it all, intermingling all her talents. One could wish no higher praise from an adoring husband.

:hi: