"The what?" I queried.
The play about Julia Child. "I think it's called 'Mastering the Art' or something like that", he said. It was a play about Julia Child and her husband when they lived in postwar France and her discovery of cooking. "But it's been sold out for a long time," said another one of the Davids.
"To Master the Art"
He said that the theatre might be adding a couple of performances and that I should call the Timeline Theatre the very next day. Maybe I could get a ticket. . . .
I called the theatre the next day, the very minute the box office opened. All performances were sold out, But! . . alas! .They had added one more performance on December 15th and had only two tickets left. . ."Did I want them?"
"Yes . . . innocently . . . Implicitly. . . .
My bestie foodie friend, Liane, accompanied me on a blisteringly cold night to a performance of "To Master the Art". Within the first thirty seconds of this performance, I had tears streaming down my face. The performance was that stunning. Liane was, hopefully, not embarrassed by my reaction; I doubt that she was surprised by it. (After all, that's why I brought my bestie foodie friend to accompany me to the world premier of this performance.)
Needless to say, the performances were brilliant throughout. Whenever there was a scene in a restaurant, a kitchen, or the Cordon Bleu, the audience was permeated with exquisite different aromas: roasted chicken in tarragon, and, (I swear) the smell of beurre blanc blasted the audience.
The theatre was small and intimate, perhaps six rows seated in-the-round, so we could really enjoy every facial expression. (I'm dying to see what some chef-musician wanna-be will do to Julia's vocal line when this is crucified into an off-Broadway musical -- and don't think for a moment that I won't be the one to take a stab at doing it!)
Please know that "To Master the Art" the stage performance was written BEFORE the movie "Julia and Julia" - - that abominable, trite thing.
I'm truly sad that I saw the last performance of "To Master the Art." During the next two-and-a-half hours of the performance, I laughed, was surprised, cried some more and continued to be overwhelmed - - - at how much joy can be obtained from food. . . . Such joy from food!
But, you know, . . . . the same thing happens whenever I prepare any one of Julia's recipes from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Whenever I follow Julia's precise instructions, pure unalloyed joy -- and some euphoria - - are always the results. How many endeavors such as that can one claim?
"To Master the Art" conveyed precisely what I've felt about Julia's work all along. That's why I wept within the first thirty seconds.
"To Master the Art" will be a huge hit, mark my words.
My only frustration is this - -
- - that everyone I truly love didn't get to see it with me.
