"Julie & Julia" and me...

I'm back. Refreshed. 

That's how Julia Child in Mastering the Art of French Cooking instructs you to prepare all green vegetables after they've been blanched in boiling water. Refresh them. Plunge them into a bath of ice-cold water for a minute and they retain their glorious colour and crispness. They stop cooking, too. 

That's how I feel right now. Crisp. Bright. Not raw but ready. Tingly and alive again. Yum.

When I left you two weeks ago, I was a limp, burnt out asparagus spear. Desperately in need of refreshing. Emotionally parched. Spiritually dried-out. (Oh, dear. That's quite the metaphor, isn't it? ;-)) 

Then, the next day, the day following my departure – after I hung out my "Gone Fishin'" sign – my alter ego, my trusty iMac, burnt out, too. First, it froze. Then it died. Its hard disc damaged beyond repair.  

Now, all that is behind us – as you may have read in last week's Postcard from the Edge – and we're cooking with gas again. 

As you may have already guessed, over the weekend, my husband Marty and I treated ourselves to Nora Ephron's new movie Julie & Julia and we emerged refreshed and ravenous. 

More than that, we felt validated, knowing our marriage is what keeps us alive and loving life. We held hands all the way through the film – I cried – convinced our "enough" has made us rich beyond belief.

It wasn't always that way for me. Just as Julia Carolyn McWilliams Child wasn't always "Julia" – I wasn't always the person I am today. 

Back in the early 1990s, I was on dialysis. For close to two years, I had to spend 12 hours every day, seven days a week, hooked up to a peritoneal dialysis machine – to stay alive. Nauseous most of the time, I couldn't eat well. I had to restrict foods drastically, especially salt. Still do. 

Tethered to my machine through a shunt in my gut, in bed, I watched Julia Child's television shows religiously. Her vitality, wit, energy and passion for life and delicious French cuisine kept me emotionally enriched and vicariously well fed. 

If I couldn't eat, at least I could watch ... and imagine how her exquisite-looking dishes tasted. 

Those were lonely years. I was single. Unable to work. My Endstage Kidney Failure was the result of Lithium toxicity caused because my psychiatrist at that time neglected to monitor my Lithium levels properly. I never knew they had to be monitored so carefully back in 1975 when I started taking it for mania. (If you are on Lithium, please be sure to have your levels checked!) 

So, I lost the functioning of my only kidney. Yes, that's right. I had only one to begin with – not that it would have made much difference. Lithium toxicity affects both kidneys if you are lucky enough to have two.

Anyway. That was then. This is now. My youngest sister Glorianne saved my life by giving me one of her two kidneys on March 7, 1994 and the rest is history. She's healthy and well. Transplant is no cure, but it sure beats dialysis.

I returned to work as a Lifestyle feature writer at The Toronto Sun and on August 13, 1997, two days before her 85th birthday, I interviewed Julia Child. 

We talked about butter. 

Julia Child's trademark was her love of butter and rich French cookery ... and her revulsion for trendy, nutritious, low-fat cooking. 

"It's adulterating good food," she trilled on the telephone, I recall, in her unmistakable vibrato. "I was in a restaurant the other night and they had quenelles, and someone in our party said, 'Gosh, I haven't had a quenelle in years.' But this chef had done them complete 'diet', and do you know what one of those bouchees tastes like with no cream? It was awful, like chewing a chunk of rubber."

Yet even Julia admitted she was cutting back on butter to try to keep her weight down. Her approach to "cutting back" is either taste something rich or don't serve it at all. 

"Make another recipe. Don't adulterate something that's supposed to be good and delicious," she sternly 

advised. "You have your mouth all set for food the way it's supposed to be and then you get foam rubber. It's much better to eat an apple than this fake food."

Until seeing Julie & Julia, I never knew much about Julia Child's personal life. In part, the film is based her autobiography My Life in France. She wrote it with her husband's great-nephew, Alex Prud'homme in the last few years before her she died on August 13, 2006 – two days before her 92nd birthday.

It's a charming love story. Not only about her passion for France and its food, but her zest for life and especially, her lusty loving husband, artist Paul Child. She had a glorious and relatively late-in-life marriage – she was 34 and a virgin – to the most delicious man in the world. Paul absolutely adored Julia, who was 10 years his junior. He supported her wholeheartedly during her close-to-10-year odyssey writing her first landmark cookbook and getting it published. He illustrated and took photographs of her culinary creations for this and many of her subsequent cookbooks all their married life. He encouraged her to try teaching cooking on TV and was thrilled watching her phenomenal rise in the world of cooking.

What struck me most was that he loved her exuberance. She was loud and big and wildly enthusiastic. All 6-feet, 2-inches of her. Decidedly, admittedly different and he was utterly smitten. She was the "butter to his toast" and their marriage was a valentine, year-round.

That pretty well describes how my husband feels about me. And I him. And our marriage. He's more than 12 years older than I am. He calls me his "child-bride." He sees me as beautiful, even first thing in the morning, fresh out of bed. Unbrushed. He loves my exuberance, my excitability, my over-the-top enthusiasms. My passions, many of which he is thrilled to share. I'm different, too. Very different, as you well know. He especially loves that about me. 

I am not 6-feet, 2-inches. Just over 5-feet. As tall as Julia Child was, so I am round. 

Well, not quite, but in truth, I've had a real problem with food and my weight for too many years. I eat when I'm stressed, bored, anxious, frustrated and upset, as well as when I'm hungry. For any reason. The only time I don't eat is when I'm asleep. 

I eat too much. I gorge myself to fill emotional voids by stuffing my mouth and my stomach, sometimes to the point of pain. Food is my drug of choice. Unlike Julia. She was happy with tastes. A good eater. I'm not.

There's a reason. It began following a sexual assault by an orderly in the psychiatric ward of the Toronto Western Hospital when I was there for a week of observation in the early-1960's. I was in my early teens. It was my first hospitalization. Within six months I gained 50 lbs. I suppressed that memory for 14 years. All too common a story. Build a wall of fat around yourself and no man will ever want in again. Eat away your unconscious psychic pain.

Today, you might call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder but back then PTSD hadn't yet been invented. When I was about 28, the memory of that sexual assault suddenly came out during a therapy session with the same psychiatrist who neglected to monitor my Lithium levels. He didn't deal with it, so it festered for years. I ate for comfort. At one time, I weighed as much as 242 lbs. Now, I'm well under that, but by no means trim.

So, I am a perpetual yo-yo dieter. Marty met me when I was thin and fit. Now, I'm not, but he cannot see the difference. Like Julia and Paul Child's marriage, we are blindly in love and about to celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary on August 22. He's the most dashingly handsome man I've ever known.

Now, even my yo-yo dieting is less a problem.

As for the "Julie" in this film – Julie Powell and her account of her year-long adventure cooking all 524 recipes in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking and blogging about it – that's me, too. 

I was new to blogging when we launched Coming Out Crazy on Healthzone.ca in April 2008. Since then, I've reinvented myself and I love my online life with you. My "other life." I live for your comments. I care about how you will react to my musings. Marty is my editor – he is also a writer – and although the New York Times has not come calling, I believe we're making a difference as one of the only online mental health blogs carried and promoted by a major urban daily newspaper. 

Sadly, I learned yesterday from Philip Dawdy at Furious Seasons that Liz Spikol is no longer writing her award winning bipolar blog The Trouble with Spikol at The Philadelphia Weekly – a loss for all of us.

I don't know what happened, but I hope she'll be back. Her voice is needed. The more voices, the stronger we become. Your voices, too. All our voices.

Meanwhile, on Saturday evening, following the movie, Marty and I picked up a fresh whole-wheat baguette, some luscious local Ontario strawberries, tomatoes-on-the-vine, a gorgeous bunch of fresh basil and a small triangle of Italian Parmesan cheese. I've discovered the most divine new salad, thanks to Mark Bittman and his New York Times blog, Bitten. 

Here's the recipe. It's easy. Perfect for right now. A seasonal summer "red salad" – divine.

Fresh strawberries, tomatoes, sliced parmesan, fresh basil and – get this – no fat. Just a good balsamic vinegar. Toss and enjoy. Julia wouldn't mind. I bet she'd love it because it tastes scrumptious – without a smidgen of butter. 

Julia always said, "We must have the courage of our convictions." In the kitchen. And in life, too. That's what "Coming Out Crazy" is all about. 

I'm so happy to be back. I've missed you. 

Speak soon!

Comments

[j.s.]

So nice to have you back after your R+R time.I look forward to this blog-you are so right -it is essential to have a voice.
Happy anniversary!

[Amanda Truscott]

I'm so glad I found this blog. And I loved the movie too.

[Sandy Naiman]

Hi j.s. and Amanda,

Your comments "warm the cockles of my heart" – though don't ask me what "cockles" are. You don't want to know, but the expression just came out. It's an old one but it's good. You give me such good feelings, feelings of contentment with your kind and generous words.

You make me smile and Marty, who also watches these comments, mentioned how lovely both your comments were. We feel very lucky and hopeful.

I'm so glad you found this blog, too. You are cherished members of our community here at "Coming Out Crazy." I'm sure that you warm the cockles of all kinds of hearts – spreading good feelings. It's wonderful. A precious gift.

Thank you. I will sleep well tonight. Sweet dreams to you, too.

Hugs,
sln

[Robin Leszner]

Ok, Sandy, you've done it again. You've made me laugh and cry. Really, really great post...I love you.

[Sandy Naiman]

Robin,

You've touched me deeply.

I'm speechless!

Thank you.

xox
sln

[Deb]

Lovely entry as always Sandy. I quite enjoyed the movie as well! I made a point of going to see it, even if I couldn't go with my husband. Pity I couldn't! The love that Julia and Paul Child shared was wonderfully portrayed by Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci. You really felt privileged being able to witness the love.

I know all about the eating to fill a void. Same trouble with me, in that food is a pancea for what ails me. I love butter with a passion, and love love love Julia Child's cookbooks. I have 4 of them, and have watched her shows over the years. Such a wonderful cook, and a wonderful person too. Loved her comment 'everything in moderation, even moderation'.

Marion Kane did a wonderful blog post about the movie http://www.marionkane.com/blog/?p=129 She loved the movie, from the sound of her entry.

Stay happy Sandy and thanks for the recipe!

[Jessica Mondres]

Sandy

I just discovered your blog, and I am so impressed with your candor, humor, and honesty about your experiences with mental illness. It seems to me that having public figures who are willing to be open about their own mental illnesses is such an important example for everyday people struggling in silence, thinking they are alone. Thank you for sharing your story with us all!

[Sandy Naiman]

Dear Jessica,

Please forgive me for taking so long to respond to your kind and very generous comment. Your theatrical advocacy is very important and I feel honoured that you're going to be a part of our "Coming Out Crazy" community.

(Yes, I clicked on your blog http://www.erasingthedistance.blogspot.com/ and I loved what I read!)

This is a very busy week for me. I'm finishing a term at Seneca, where I teach, and I have 18 final exams to mark, final marks to compute plus an addendum for the Fall Semester all due before Monday, August 24.

All is wonderful, though. I love my teaching and my students who hail from all over the world. Each class is a mini-United Nations and I learn so much from them about their cultures. It is an honour to teach at Seneca, one of the largest post secondary colleges in Canada.

Back to the point – I am very grateful for your comment and thrilled to be able to subscribe to your blog. My first love is theatre. I have a B.A. in English Literature and Drama, began taking drama classes at the age of nine and I'm married to an actor and dramatist.

I look forward to learning more about your work "Shedding light on mental illness(es) through theatre" in the great city of Chicago – home of Second City.

Take care and again, thank you.

Cheers,
sln

[Sallyo]

Good to have you back. I just finished my last class for a BA in Mass Comm, and wrote a paper about the need for improved education for mental health issues. I quoted you (hope you don't mind; I gave full credit), and just received my grade: an A!

[Sandy Naiman]

Congratulations, Sallyo...

What an accomplishment, especially that "A" on your final paper on the need for education in mental health – no mean feat. Will you share some of your research findings with us?

In the meantime, what do you plan to do with your new degree? Will you continue with your education? I hope you keep blogging and speaking out. We need your strong voice and your blog – http://sallyosmusings.blogspot.com/

You're making a real difference.

Take care.

Cheers and I hope you're celebrating. Good on you!
Hugs,
sln