A vegetarian meal in Goias, Brazil (Jan, 2008)
On Sunday I saw the film, Julie and Julia, two love stories about women who love to cook and their husbands who enjoy eating their terrific culinary productions. The film is also the story of a blogger who chronicles daily her successes and failures in following all 524 recipes from Julia Child's famous cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I loved the film and recommend it wholeheartedly.
I also learned something about blogging and decided to step up my postings here. I learned that I can keep it short and share my reflections in a more personal way. Sure, I risk being insignificant, but when I see what people write on Facebook I realize that no thought is too small to chronicle. Not sure this is good, but it encourages me to go ahead.
As we walked to the movie, Guy and I talked about the way people share their most trivial and commonplace thoughts on Facebook and Twitter, concluding that these virtual spaces recreate the public gathering place - the pub, coffeehouse, club room, playground - where one could go to be seen and heard. When we speak and others hear us, show off and others see, we are reassured of our own existence. And we feel part of humanity as we absorb the small bits of communication around us: "Hey, what's up?" "I'm thirsty." "I just heard something funny." "My cat threw up."
So I'm not going to worry about how smart and consequential I am. I only set before myself the task of continuing to write about Climate Change in an ongoing effort to make the world better "for all the grandchildren."
Julie and Julia portrays a lifestyle where meat - beef bourguignon, de-boned duck, liver pate - define cooking, and you can never use too much butter. While my mouth waters at the thought of such pleasures, I know that a mostly vegetarian diet (if not entirely vegan) is the way to go, and thank God, is not without it's own delights.