I love cooking. Not casually—deeply, stubbornly, with a kind of affection that usually involves a whisk in one hand and a grocery list that makes no practical sense. But lately? Cooking and I haven’t exactly been in sync. I think about it constantly, romanticize it even, but somehow don’t end up doing it as much as I want. It’s like craving a perfect croissant and never actually stepping into the bakery.
And then something shifted.
I watched a Julia Child documentary, and it all came rushing back.
That joy. That playfulness. That completely unselfconscious love of food.
She didn’t just cook—she celebrated. She made it feel alive, a little messy, a little imperfect, and entirely worth it. Watching her felt like opening a window I didn’t realize I’d shut somewhere along the way.
I grew up on her PBS shows. I remember being completely captivated—not just by what she made, but by how she made it feel. Like an adventure. Like something you got to do, not something you had to check off a list. When she passed away, I cried real, actual tears. It felt like losing a piece of something warm and joyful.
And then there’s Julie & Julia. I saw it in theaters and walked out equal parts inspired and starving. It’s still one of my favorite movies, and honestly, probably a big reason I ever wanted to start blogging in the first place. There’s something irresistible about the idea of cooking your way through recipes—one imperfect, beautiful attempt at a time.
Lately, I’ve been missing that version of myself. The one who got excited about trying something new just for the sake of it. The one who didn’t overthink every step. The one who just… cooked.
But I don’t think she’s gone. I think she’s just been a little buried under busy weeks and takeout menus.
Every year, I add “try 20 new recipes” to my New Year bingo card. It’s become a quiet little tradition. This year, I’m six recipes in. Six small wins. Six moments where I chose curiosity over convenience.
And right now, I’m especially fixated on this one recipe: https://motherwouldknow.com/alice-waters-shaved-fennel-salad-html/
Yes, it’s technically Alice Waters’, but I only know about it because she shared it with Julia Child—which somehow makes it feel like part of that same magical lineage. And for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s simple, fresh, a little elegant without trying too hard. Exactly the kind of thing that reminds me why I fell in love with cooking in the first place.
Maybe that’s all I need. Not a perfect schedule or a dream kitchen or hours of free time. Just a little spark. A little curiosity. A willingness to try.
And maybe make a mess along the way.
I think she’d approve. And honestly? That feels like enough.
