I'm not sure how many of Julia Child's cookbooks I own. They're all dog-eared and splattered, and the pages with my favorite recipes are slowly disolving. I've read "My Life In France." So of course I loved the movie.
But, really, now, I never have understood why Julia Child did not LOOK as if she cooked with pounds of butter. And now here's this movie with young Julia slathering butter all over lobsters and brioche and hosting dinner parties every other day, and she STILL fits into her size 4 pencil skirt. It's just not fair.
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