Clearly Claire: Bon Appetit!

On Sunday morning I woke up with a smile. I woke up with a smile because I realized that I had a whole extra hour to watch television or, as I told my teachers, catch up on some homework.

I spent the morning driving in Tracy because my driving test is on Wednesday and I want, no scratch that, NEED to pass it. So, having driven for two hours, while eating terrible Chinese food, I got home in a less that cheerful mood. That is when my father decided to be Julia Child and cook beef bourguignese for him and my mom. Then he decided to tell me that I was chosen to help.

I groaned while I washed my hands in scalding hot water and bubbly soap. I reached into the refrigerator to get out the ingredients: bacon, beef, and carrots. I then opened the cupboard to get out the onions and various spices needed to make this dish. My "Julia" was sitting at the counter while I did this, drinking fruit punch, and telling me that I am doing fine on my own.

I began to follow the steps. Place bacon in a pot of boiling water while you chop onions and carrots. Brown the bacon and beef before adding in the onions, carrots, and seasonings into a big casserole dish (the one dish in the house my parents haven't bought). I continued working on the dish that, oh by the way, takes six hours to make when it hit me. I was making food.

I mean, I had made the odd pasta when my mom had the flu and couldn't make me something to eat. I had even gone through the Play Dough pie phase when I was five, but this was different. I was making something really complicated that could explode, or really mess up, at any moment. It was exhilarating, this freedom of making something myself.

Well, I finished the meal and my dad tried it and said it was delicious. I decided to wait until later to try it since it is supposed to be better the second day around. I never really got the Julia Child movie until now. I never realized how cooking could be so freeing. I would say "Julia pulled me out of the ocean," but I would say that she gave me and my dad a fun couple of hours and gave me a new hobby I love. So before you call the pizza place, pick up a cookbook. And there is nothing else left to say...except...

Bon Appetit!