Centenary Chef

I sat there in the cafe at the American History Museum, looking out the window at a news reporter interviewing someone for what I assumed was coverage of Julia Child's 100th birthday celebration.

All I could think was, "Ooh, if they interviewed me, I could show them my blog, right now!  It'd be great exposure!"  But I'm not forward enough to blatantly promote myself, or my blog, like that.  Okay, maybe I am.  Except I haven't had the opportunity, unless you count talking about my blog with you guys.  But you already read my blog, which defeats the whole purpose of my shameless self-promotion.

Last Wednesday turned out to be a whirlwind of events.  It kicked off with a rather embarrassing encounter I had with Alex Prud'homme, Julia Child's grandnephew and co-author of her memoir, My Life in France.  I was third in line to meet him at the book signing.  He was very friendly, but, like I always do with anyone who's even remotely famous, I froze when it was my turn to talk to him.  I got all flustered and giggly and shy and all I could think to say to him was that I was sorry that the version of his book that I had was the movie cover version because even though I like the other cover better this was the only one available when I bought it because I bought it when the movie came out which sucks but I'll bet he liked it anyway, huh?  Oh yeah, and that Oreos and the Titanic were born the same year as his great aunt – because that’s something a published, best-selling author should know.  Plus I had dog-eared the page that I wanted him to sign, and opened the book to it, and then he proceeded to turn it to the title page and sign that, which shows just how much of a page-mangling nube I am when it comes to literary etiquette.

I'm telling you, I am a total freak when it comes to meeting celebrities.  I always try to calm myself down by telling myself, Hey, they're just like everyone else.  They use the bathroom.  They burp.  They blink. But it doesn't do any good.  Total mess I am with them.

Mr. Prud'homme was nice enough about my freakdom (read: he pretended not to notice).  He even made a joke about my 1912 being the year of Julia, the Oreo, and the Titanic – he said, “Oh, the trifecta!”  He smiled and thanked me for blogging about the event.  Oh yes, I may have managed to slip in that I'm a blogger - something that I'm sure he's never had anyone tell him before.  Because, you know, there are so few blogs out there.  Especially about food.

After that, I made my way to the theater, where they were showing vintage episodes of The French Chef - Quiche, Tarts, and French onion soup!  I immediately remembered the thing I love most about Julia Child and the way she cooks; she was beautifully imperfect.  Even her example pie crusts had dents in them, and she banged away and futzed around like no one was watching.  If she made a mistake, she laughed about it - and/or added more vermouth.  And now the Sous Chef and I have a new mission: to make French onion soup with poached eggs.  Hello!

After a quick lunch in the employee cafeteria area, thankyouverymuch (it doesn’t take much to impress a girl like me!), Sous Chef and I made our way to Flag Hall for the special “surprise” event.  Now, I’m not a big fan of crowds to begin with – Sous Chef and I almost never go to the mall on the weekends, for fear of being trampled or suffocated.  I was willing to put aside this fear in honor of Julia – that is, until I saw the crowd that had congregated in Flag Hall.  What greeted me was a huge conglomeration of hot, sweaty, chef hat-clad people.  Yes, that’s right - the organizers had passed out paper chef hats to everyone.  As a result, I figured out that the one thing even more annoying than stretching to look past a crowd is when you may as well not even try stretching to look, because hundreds chef hats have instantly added a foot to everyone’s vision-obscuring height.

I made a conscious decision not to be Grumpy Girl, instead forcing myself to be Chill Chick.  I mean, I was at the National Museum of American History, celebrating the life of my all-time favorite chef – it’s hard to be grumpy when you think of it that way.  The new museum director gave a little speech, then the next thing you know, a band of musicians dressed up like chefs started filing in, playing “When the Saints Go Marching In”.  The conductor directed them with a huge whisk (so foodie funny!)

Best pic we could get.  Sugar + People = Mayhem

Next, they rolled in a huge cake, which I read later had been made with over 50 pounds of butter (Julia would have been proud!).  Then came the climactic moment (for me, anyway).  We all sang “Happy Birthday” to Julia.  I know this sounds cheesier than a quiche Lorraine, but I knew in my heart that at that moment, Julia could hear us.  I was so completely happy.

The event people passed out chocolate chip cookies to everyone, and then it was pretty much over – except for the really, really, really crowded trip to see Julia’s kitchen, which they have open for just two weeks.

I had an absolutely great day.  When I quit my job a few months ago, this is the kind of day I imagined myself having – a day where I could come together with other food lovers and celebrate the life of a culinary legend.  I had to get up at five in the morning to catch a ride with the Sous Chef, and I had to brave the summer tourists, and the lines, and the heat, and I even had to keep myself occupied for the entire day while the Sous Chef actually earned his paycheck (because apparently escorting me around his museum doesn’t count as work!).

It was definitely worth it.

Happy Birthday, Julia!

P.S. If you're excited for even more foodie action at the Smithsonian, you won't have to wait for long; in November 2012, they're opening the Food: Transforming the American Table 1950 - 2000 exhibit.  Holy moly, I've never been more excited to live in the DC area!

For more information on the new exhibit, go here.  You can also follow the National Museum of American History on Twitter and Facebook.