My Lunches With Julia

On the eve of the upcoming release of the new movie, Julie and Julia, I thought I might post a different kind of blog, and tell a story about my encounters with the legendary Julia Child.

During the late spring of 1978 I was a waiter in the new Thompson’s Chowder House restaurant in Boston’s Quincy Market. This restaurant was part of the Landmark Inn complex (Thompson’s in the basement, Flower Market Cafe on the ground floor, Wild Goose game restaurant and The Bunch of Grapes–Boston’s first wine bar–on the second floor) all designed and owned by Ben and Jane Thompson. Ben was the architect/genius creator of the entire Faneuil Hall Marketplace concept, and he loved exotic fish and game.

Julia and Paul Child were long time friends and neighbors of the Thompson’s across the river in Cambridge. Julia, of course, was the most recognized celebrity chef in the country at that time.

She and her husband, Paul, came for lunch one day. Jane Thompson insisted that I wait on them and that Julia have the signature Whole Steamed Ginger Black Bass. The fish, quite unique for the city, was obviously served intact. The striking presentation included the attached head and tail in a dark brown soy sauce pool with julienne carrots and celery on a large white platter. The service style for the restaurant included no trays, every dish was hand-carried from the kitchen, and we had no service stands in the small densely packed dining room. Julia was sitting at a corner seat, in a chair that resembled a throne, with Paul to her left. 

When I presented her with the dish, with my usual serious flourish, she said, "Oh my, how lovely!" Then she smiled at me (I’m only 5′7" so she was almost at eye level) but didn’t reach for her knife and fork. Paul had ordered Dover sole, and he began to dig right in. I stepped away, but remained a moment to make sure that they were both satisfied. I quickly came to the realization that she was waiting for the fish to be removed and served without the carcass. I had the professional experience to know how to fillet the fish tableside, but neither the space nor the proper utensils. This being Julia Child, every eye in the restaurant was now watching the table (including all of the other waiters, the chef and two line cooks who had snuck out of the kitchen).

I instructed a busboy to grab a clean platter, and scooping up two forks and a fish knife, I politely asked if I could "serve the bass?" Julia smiled, waved her large left hand in a courtly manner, and I took her plate and placed it on the table to Paul’s left, directly across from her. The bass, placed on its belly and slightly curved to match the oval platter, was not an easy fish to carve. The flesh was moist from the steaming, the bones large and white, and all was held very loosely together by the soft black skin. The fish knife was really of little traditional help, so using it in my left hand and the forks in my right to "French serve" the filets from each side of the body, I grabbed as large a portion on each pass as I could hold together. Julia watched intently as I placed one fillet skin-side down and then as I set the remaining portion gently on an angle to face her. I arranged the vegetables around the now much less imposing fish, and with a tablespoon artfully transferred the sauce. Placing my service napkin back across my right forearm I stepped around her husband and served the new plate to Julia from her left.

It was then that she smiled, clapped her hands, and leaned into me to say sotto voce, "I can never do it that well, it’s so embarrassing."

Jane Thompson arrived the next day and coming over to thank me, said that Julia and Paul had had a wonderful time.

Many years later in early May, 1990, I was an assistant restaurant management professor at Cornell’s School of Hotel Administration and Julia came to visit. Over lunch with the Food & Beverage faculty (this time as a guest at her table) I had the chance to recount my “fish story,” much to her delight. She had recently released her newest cookbook “The Way To Cook”, and a few of us had brought copies. She graciously autographed mine, writing a personal wish for Melinda, my wife, and me to have a Happy 5th Anniversary that weekend. 

I’m looking forward to seeing the film.