Fit For Human Consumption

It started, as so many of my messier ideas do, with something I read. Which made me buy Julia Child’s first book, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” So Thursday I thought, hey why not, lets try one of JC’s recipes. Coq au vin seemed pretty straightforward. There were no techniques involved that I didn’t know. And she’s like the original kitchen goddess right? Everyone, but everyone references Her. It’s about time I gave it whirl right? Except it was a weekday after work. And what I hadn’t fully absorbed at the outset about JC is that those recipes take forever. Seriously. For. Ever.

Oh, and lady looooves her butter.Health food this is not. I poured my first glass of wine somewhere around halfway through the first stick of butter. Sadly a not so great rose. Note to self: get my sister to give me a list of good roses again, because the good ones are so very very good, and this one was so very very not. But I digress.

We were talking about her epicuriousness, and she is no joke. I followed the recipe pretty closely for a first outing but out of necessity overlooked one ingredient. In all honesty, I was secretly thrilled there was no cognac in the house because the last thing I really want to do before a weekday dinner is light my stove on fire. On purpose. Without any adult supervision. (There’s a stage in JC’s coq au vin where you pour cognac in the pan and LIGHT IT ON FIRE whilst “averting your face”!?!? Seriously.)

Even without the culinary arson I occupied some serious kitchen real estate in my foray. Two hours later there were dishes on every surface of the kitchen. Parsley from one end of the counter to the other—inextricably so because it wasn’t an actual ingredient in the coq au vin I was making. And I might have used every pot in the kitchen (though in JC’s defense that has much more to do with my inability to estimate volumes accurately and having to switch pans midway through cooking).

Was it foolishness to dive into my first French cooking experience on a weeknight? I don’t know. But here’s what I do know—coq au vin is delicious. Seriously awesome. I might’ve made a mess, and it may not have been the prettiest thing I’ve ever plated. And JC definitely goes the long way round on things, which in our current corner cutting culture is a shock to the system. But woman knew what she was doing. Or at least she knows coq au vin (I’ll let you know about the rest). Honestly it wasn’t that difficult—just time consuming. Next time I’ll read ahead, it might help. Or better yet, coq au vin in terms of prep time and heftiness might best be left for rainy Sunday dinners not hot muggy Thursday nights. Live and learn. But I certainly ate well.