Julia and Me (Part 2)
Just plunge in and do it
For the following three and a half years I was incredibly busy. I studied Mandarin and Chinese cuisine with master chefs, and also translated three cookbooks from the original Chinese into English. When the second book, Chinese Snacks, was published, I decided to resurrect my correspondence with Julia. The postal rates from Taiwan to the U.S. being ridiculously expensive, to save my limited funds I wrote my letter directly in one of the books.
To be honest, I had completely forgotten about the specifics of that letter until five years ago when, at an event at the Schlesinger Library at the Radcliffe Institute in Harvard, I made the happy discovery that our correspondence had been preserved. I was shown it by Marylene Altieri, Curator of Books and Printed Materials, who told me that Julia had donated her entire collection of some 5,000 cookbooks and somehow my book and letter had come to their attention. Marylene said that she often showed the book and letter to guests on her guided tours of the library’s culinary collection.
“Chinese Snacks,” the second book I translated with Huang Su Huei from Julia’s cookbook collection, housed at the Schlesinger Library in Cambridge
My letter to Julia, dated June 5, 1975, in “Chinese Snacks”
And so, to my great pleasure, Julia and I became pen pals. Several months later, when Huang Su Huei, my surrogate Chinese mother, was traveling to the U.S. for a brief visit, I arranged for her to cook a Chinese banquet at Julia’s house in Cambridge for her and Paul. My aunt Pauline and uncle Jerry, who lived in Lynnfield, picked her up, helped her shop, and prep for the dinner. Julia and Paul adored the meal, and when I returned to the U.S. a year later, Julia invited me for lunch in their homey Cambridge kitchen.
I remember vividly that she had made chicken salad, which, not being a favorite of mine, I just picked at it as she and Paul, who had suffered a stroke some years earlier and was not entirely lucid, grilled me on my future plans. She seemed a little impatient that I was undecided. In my defense, I had been out of the country for three-and-a-half years and my first priority was to readjust to life in the U.S. Once that was under my belt, I thought I would be able to figure out more easily where to go from there. At that moment, all I knew was that I had to visit my parents, who had moved to Akron, Ohio.
I told her I was considering teaching, but wasn’t confident that I had enough experience. She looked at me in astonishment. “Of course you are ready,” she said. There’s no better way to learn than by just plunging in and doing it.” As I was to discover, the very fact that I had lived in Taiwan, translated three cookbooks, and spoke fluent Mandarin made me a sort of instant celebrity, especially in Akron, Ohio. And, as it turned out, I loved teaching cooking while regaling my audience with my unusual adventures in Asia.
“For the next three and a half years, I studied classic Chinese cuisine with master Chinese chefs and translated three book from Chinese to English.”
When I told Julia, at that lunch, that I was still interested in traveling to France to study French cooking she perked up immediately: “Coincidentally, an old friend and colleague of mine, Anne Willan, is planning to open a professional cooking school in Paris. Perhaps you could go there and teach Chinese cooking in exchange for working at the school.”
I met Anne soon after and she decided that I was properly qualified to be a stagière (chef’s assistant). Nine months later there I was, in Paris. At the school I studied classic French cooking, assisted the chefs, and, at the end of a year, received a Grande Diplome in classic French cooking. I would see Julia occasionally when she visited Paris and later, during the three years I lived in Toledo, Ohio, we continued to exchange letters. I never wrote about our close relationship or even asked to take a photo of the two of us together, although there were plenty of opportunities. Our relationship was just too personal for me to share.
In 1979, I moved to the greater Boston area, and to my delight we became even closer friends. One reason we bonded was that we both joined the “Women’s Culinary Guild,” a new women’s organization for food professionals, founded by former Boston Globe Food Editor, Sheryl Julian, and cookbook author Laura Brody. Other notable women members included Julia’s dear friend Marian Morash, the Victory Garden TV chef and wife of her longtime WGBH director Russ Morash; Sara Moulton, later the star of the PBS series “Sara’s Weeknight Meals”; chef Lydia Shire, and noted culinary historian, Barbara Ketchum Wheaton. It was a wonderful mix of dynamic, smart, and stimulating women who felt a strong kinship with other professionals, especially in this otherwise male-dominated field. Together with the rest of us, Julia clearly enjoyed learning from accomplished artisans, from chefs, and from cookbook authors. Inevitably our meetings ended with wine and the latest gossip. The food world never lacked a juicy story, which Julia, as much as the rest of us, loved to hear.
It took me a while, but I realized that despite her celebrity, Julia loved nothing more than to be “one of the gals”. A pedestal was not for her. She also treasured being part of the Boston food community, constantly visiting new restaurants to meet young, talented chefs. Her appetite for knowledge and tasting innovative dishes was voracious. When a cookbook author came to town on a book tour, we would gather a small group of food editors, writers, and chefs at a local restaurants (Ann Robert, co-owner of the French restaurant, Maison Robert was always a generous host), where we could listen to their stories, connect, and compare notes on our latest projects and travels.
Knowing how much Julia enjoyed authentic Chinese food, I started organizing dinners for small groups of chefs and friends. It was not unusual for my phone to ring at 8.30 in the morning. Julia’s unmistakable breathy voice would boom over her speaker phone, suggesting that I set up a restaurant banquet on such and such a date. Gradually it evolved into a ritual. Every year, at Chinese New Year; in August, around her birthday; or when she might be entertaining out-of-town guests, a group of us would go to Chinatown or gather at her house for potluck. Each guest prepared their specialty and Julia or another guest provided an ample supply of wine.
Cookbooks
Nina is the author of numerous award winning cookbooks.