AS A

LWAY
The Let S, JU
ters of
JULIA LIA
C HILD &
AV I S D
EVOTO

Food, Frien
dship & the
Making of
EDIT
ED a Masterpi
BY Joan
Reard
on ece
As Always, Julia
The Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto
D

FO O D, F R IEN DSHIP, A N D T H E M A K IN G
O F A M A ST ER PIECE

Selected and Edited by Joan Reardon

houghton mifflin harcourt

Boston New York
2010
 Copyright © 2010 by Joan Reardon
all rights reserved

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book,

write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company,
215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003.

www.hmhbooks.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

As always, Julia : the letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto : food, friendship,
and the making of a masterpiece / selected and edited by Joan Reardon.
p. cm.
Includes index.
isbn 978-0-547-41771-4
1. Child, Julia — Correspondence. 2. De Voto, Avis — Correspondence.
3. Cooks — United States — Correspondence. I. Reardon, Joan, date.
II. Child, Julia. III. De Voto, Avis.
tx649.c47a4 2010
641.5092 — dc22 2010025840

Book design by Melissa Lotfy

Printed in the United States of America

doc 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The letters of Julia Child are used with the permission of the Julia Child Founda-
tion for Gastronomy and the Culinary Arts.
The letters of Avis DeVoto are used with the permission of Mark DeVoto.
The letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto are courtesy of the Schlesinger Li-
brary, Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, Harvard University, from the fol-
lowing collections: Avis DeVoto Papers and Julia Child Papers.

pages vi, 175, 343: © The Julia Child Foundation for Gastronomy and the Culinary
Arts; photographs by Paul Child; used by permission.
page 31: photograph by C. H. Dykeman; courtesy Mark DeVoto.
pages 254, 336: Rigmore Delphin, Alle Kvinners Blad.
All other photographs © Paul Child and used by permission of the Schlesinger Li-
brary, Radcliffe Institute, Harvard University.
 PA RT O N E — 1952–1954

All from One Kitchen Knife

The Initial Exchange of Letters Between Julia Child and Avis DeVoto,
the Contract with Houghton Mifflin, and a Developing Friendship
 D
Pictures arrived this morning . . . I am so damn happy to have
them and thank you both from the heart. All from one kitchen
knife. It was a miracle, wasn’t it? To think that we might eas-
ily have gone through life not knowing each other, missing
all this free flow of love and ideas and warmth and sharing . . .
We share really almost everything.

Avis D e Voto to Jul ia Chil d , September 1, 1956

Julia in her Paris kitchen at 81 Rue de l’Université, where she assembled an

impressive batterie de cuisine.
previous page: Julia at the Cordon Bleu with one of her favorite instructors,
Chef Max Bugnard.
A lmost three and a half years after arriving
in Paris with her husband, Paul, Julia Child read an article in
a 1951 issue of Harper’s written by the historian and prolific journalist Ber-
nard DeVoto. In “Crusade Resumed,” he revisited what he considered “the
only mission I have ever set myself, that of trying to get for the American
housewife a kitchen knife she can cut something with.” DeVoto criticized
American-made stainless steel knives for their inability to hold an edge,
and he detailed his continuing search for a carbon steel paring knife. As a
cook who had already acquired a substantial batterie de cuisine, Julia sent
him one, and Avis, who answered most of her husband’s letters, acknowl-
edged the gift. Soon “Dear Mrs. Child” and “Dear Mrs. DeVoto” became
“Dear Julia” and “Dear Avis.”
As an employee of the State Department’s U.S. Information Service
(USIS), which operated as a sort of propaganda agency, Paul set up photo
and other art exhibits that would present the United States in a favorable
light. Meanwhile, Julia explored the markets and dined in the small res-
taurants of Paris. Blessed with a hearty appetite, she had never been par-
ticularly interested in food until she began working with Paul in the Office
of Strategic Services (OSS) during World War II in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka)
and China, where she enjoyed exotic meals. But in the City of Light, she
experienced a culinary epiphany, and she had all the fervor of a religious
convert regarding French food, wine, and cooking utensils. Above all, she
 All from One Kitchen Knife 5

valued the importance the French placed on métier (skill). Propelled by her
enthusiasm, she began a formal culinary education at Le Cordon Bleu in
1949 and sought out friends who thought about food the way she did. She
met Simone “Simca” Beck, a Parisian who was well versed in the cuisines
of Normandy, Alsace, and Provence, at a party for embassy personnel. The
two clicked immediately and began to discuss food and “how to make a
valid professional project out of it.” When Simca and her friend Louisette
Bertholle urged Julia to join Le Cercle des Gourmettes, an exclusive wom-
en’s club started in the late 1920s, Julia was delighted. The three women
often arrived hours before the scheduled Gourmettes’ luncheon to assist
the chef of the day in what they considered a private cooking lesson.
Cooking in tandem became a heady experience. So in January 1952,
when a handful of Julia’s American friends who either lived in Paris or
were on holiday asked her to teach them something about French cook-
ing, she persuaded Simca and Louisette to join her in organizing classes
in a venture that came to be known as L’École des Trois Gourmandes.
The three women taught twice a week. Julia organized the lesson plans
and typed the recipes. The format included two hours of instruction and
hands-on cooking, after which everyone sat down to a leisurely meal in
the Childs’ dining room, with Paul selecting the wines.
Teaching cooking classes together soon led to writing a cookbook to-
gether. A few years earlier, after Louisette returned to France from a visit
to the United States, she and Simca had submitted about six hundred
recipes for a book to be published by the New York publishing house Ives
Washburn. The head of the house, Sumner Putnam, had hired a transla-
tor/writer named Helmut Ripperger to prepare some of the recipes for a
small spiral-bound book called What’s Cooking in France, which was pub-
lished early in 1952 but not widely promoted. Ripperger was not interested
in working on a much larger cookbook, no contract was negotiated, and
the project stalled.
Simca and Louisette turned to Julia to help them realize their plan to
publish their big book. Although reluctant at first, Julia soon recognized
the benefits of the project, which presented an opportunity to test and re-
6 As Always, Julia
fine recipes and “translate the genuine taste of French cooking into Amer-
ican.” Julia also knew that simply being an American might give her an
advantage in dealing with U.S. publishers, and she began to question the
wisdom of publishing the book with Ives Washburn. In the fall of 1952, she
requested that all of the material already sent to Putnam be returned for
translation and editing. Then she, Simca, and Louisette began to outline
the tentatively titled “French Cooking for All” and discuss its scope. They
told Ives Washburn that they wanted the manuscript published in a se-
quence of five individual volumes.
Meanwhile, Julia sent the first draft of the book to Avis, who im-
mediately saw its potential and communicated her enthusiasm to Julia,
along with the advice to extricate the project from Ives Washburn. Avis
was an enterprising cook who knew how rare it was to find shallots even
in the specialty shops of Cambridge and understood that there were lim-
ited places where an American cook could find a variety of herbs. She
quickly became Julia’s stateside adviser on ingredients, utensils, and the
preferences of American cooks, as well as a valuable sounding board for
Julia’s staunch liberalism, ambition, and occasional insecurity.
Because Houghton Mifflin was her husband’s publisher, Avis knew
the staff at the venerable Boston publishing house, and she contacted her
friend Dorothy de Santillana, senior editor there. De Santillana instinc-
tively knew that this technique-focused cookbook was unlike the Amer-
icanized French recipes that were being offered in women’s magazines
and upscale cookbooks. She was interested.
In the following early letters between Julia and Avis, the latest vic-
tims of Senator Joseph McCarthy’s Communist witch hunt get equal time
with experiments on beurre blanc. Avis’s accounts of forays into the West
and excitement over Democrat Adlai Stevenson’s 1952 presidential cam-
paign cross paths with Julia’s descriptions of the catch at the Old Port in
Marseille, where Paul was posted in 1953. (“What luck for us,” Julia says. “It
could have been AbbisAbabababa.”) Family members are introduced, and
recipes are discussed at length.
Based on de Santillana’s assessment of the manuscript and Avis’s
 All from One Kitchen Knife 7

enthusiasm, Houghton Mifflin began discussing a contract in late 1953. It

was signed on June 1, 1954. One-third of the $750 advance was forwarded
to Julia as the representative of the Trois Gourmandes, with instructions
to submit the manuscript of “French Cooking in the American Kitchen” (as
it was now called) as soon as possible. Avis signed on as Julia’s unofficial
line editor. It was the perfect arrangement all around.

81 Rue de L’Université, Paris, 7

march 8, 1952
Dear Mr. de Voto:
Your able diatribe against the beautiful-beautiful-rust-proof-edge-proof
American kitchen knife so went to my heart that I cannot refrain from
sending you this nice little French model as a token of my appreciation.
For the past three years here, I’ve had the good fortune to be able to
spend my life studying French cooking and have amassed a most satisfy-
ingly professional batterie de cuisine, including a gamut of excellent French
knives. When we were in the USA last summer I picked up four beau-
tiful-beautiful American stainless steel housewives knives, of different
makes, to try them out. But I have been quite unable to sharpen them sat-
isfactorily. I am therefore wondering if the average American housewife
really wants a sharp knife in the kitchen, as many of my compatriots ac-
cuse me resentfully: “But your knives are so sharp! They’re dangerous!”
If you are in need of some good professional knives, I would be very
pleased to get some for you, and the prices are modest:
This one is about 70¢ (280 francs)
8-inch blade, about $2.40
7-inch flexible fish filleter, about $1.00
Mailed from here Fourth Class, one or two at a time, there seems to
be no duty to pay at your end.
We do enjoy you in Harper’s!
Most Sincerely,
Julia Child
(Mrs. Paul Child)
8 As Always, Julia
8 Berkeley Street
Cambridge 38, Massachusetts
april 3, 1952
Dear Mrs. Child:
I hope you won’t mind hearing from me instead of from my husband.
He is trying to clear the decks before leaving on a five weeks’ trip to the
Coast and is swamped with work, though I assure you most appreciative
of your delightful letter and the fine little knife. Everything I say you
may take as coming straight from him — on the subject of cutlery we are
in entire agreement.
This is the first knife which has come from France — we have had one
from Spain and one from Germany and a great many from all over the
States. I am particularly happy to have it because I have known all along
that no French cook would be caught dead with a stainless steel knife. I
have an enormous collection of knives — all sent since the Harpers’ piece
and an earlier one in Fortune last spring — but the prizes of my collection
remain two ten-inch chef ’s knives made by a firm called Pouzet which I
have owned for twenty-five years and which I plan to hand down to my
children. I was in Paris for a couple of weeks in 1950 but was rather too
busy eating to think about hunting for knives, a temptation I am sure you
will understand.
An aside on eating — I am green with envy at your chance to study
French cooking. There are two dishes served at Bossu on the Quai Bour-
bon that I remember in my dreams, and if by any possible chance you
know how to make them I would be forever in your debt if you would
let me know. One is a mixture of eggs, cream and fresh tarragon, done
in a saucepan. I probably can’t get the right kind of cream for it but I live
in hopes — I have tried it a dozen times with little success. The other is
their veal in cream with tarragon. I am fairly successful with this — using
sometimes a dry white wine or even vermouth — but Bossu probably has
access to younger veal than I can get here.
You are quite right in thinking that stainless steel knives can’t be
sharpened properly. If they are cheap, the steel is too soft to take an edge.
The very expensive ones will hold an edge for a long time but can only
be re-sharpened at the factory — I am thinking of the brand called Fro-
zen-Heat, made by Robeson at Perry, New York. These people have sent
us two five piece sets — retailing at $19.95 — and I must admit they are
good. But who wants to send knives to the factory to be reconditioned?
We have been immeasurably heartened, however, to find that there
 All from One Kitchen Knife 9

are a number of small manufacturers who are quietly turning out excel-
lent carbon steel knifes at reasonable prices, though where they are sold
I cannot tell, as the American housewife wants stainless steel and that’s
what the retailers give her. A butchers’ supply house seems to be the
answer, and one of these houses in Kansas City sent us a boning knife,
which sounds like your flexible fish filleter — a wonderful knife. The
best value of all is a set made by the Goodell Company in Antrim, New
Hampshire — long slicer, short chef ’s knife, boning knife, paring knife,
pot-roast fork, plus a magna-grip to hold them on the wall — it retails
for $7.95. This set restored our faith in American industry, and my hard-
ware man at Harvard Square now stocks them and they sell like hot-
cakes.
Since you are on your way to becoming an expert in these matters,
I wish you would tell me how you sharpen your knives. Steel, hone, or
what? I haven’t mastered the hone, though if I ever get time I mean to
practice until I have learned to do it correctly. I do use a steel frequently,
but I find that once a year or so my knives need a trip to a really good
professional who grinds them very gently and then finishes with a hone.
The New Yorker last week spoke highly of a sharpener called the Emmons
Rifle which has been made in Connecticut for a hundred and fifty years
and sells for all of ninety-five cents. It’s a fourteen inch paddle covered
with some special Turkish emery — I have sent for one but it hasn’t come
yet. Most patent sharpeners are death on knifes, I find — especially the
kind that give a sharp edge but remove ribbons of steel in the process. Of
course you are right in thinking that lots of women are terrified of sharp
knives — but once having used a good one I don’t see how they can go
back to hacking and mashing.
We have learned a tremendous lot this last year on the cutlery ques-
tion, and sometime DeVoto is going to write another piece on the sub-
ject. We want to visit some of the manufacturers first — at Antrim, and at
Southbridge and Ayer, Massachusetts, where Dexter and Murphy make
fine knives. We are even working our way through a six-volume affair
called La Coutellerie Depuis l’Origine Jusqu’à Nos Jours, by a gent named
Pagé, but since it was written before the invention of stainless steel, it
won’t be much help except to show off our learning to the enemy, who
probably won’t be impressed.
Thanks again for the knife, which is a little gem. My husband, I re-
gret to say, has snitched it for his own use — cutting the lemon peel the
proper thinness for the six o’clock Martini — but it will be mine while he
10 As Always, Julia
is in California. We are both pleased that you like the Easy Chair,* and we
both enjoyed hearing from you.
Sincerely —
Avis W. DeVoto

81 Rue de L’Université, Paris, 7

may 5, 1952
Dear Mrs. De Voto:
I have been planning to write you a long and well-organized letter in re-
sponse to yours. But, with the tourist season and the sudden inauguration
of “Mrs. Child’s Cooking School, Paris Branch,” there has been too little
time. As to the tourists, we have been to the Follies Bergères, the Lido,
the Ritz Bar, the Meurice Bar, the American Express, the Coq Hardi, the
Tour d’Argent, the Table du Roi, and are now taking quite a bit of bi-
carbonate of soda. I don’t ever want to go to any of them again except
the American Express. And what is worse, a great many of these people
are for Taft† and think McCarthy is doing a fine thing, which makes di-
gestion even more difficult. What is the country coming to, I sometimes
wonder.
The cooking school, “L’École des Trois Gourmandes” is a joint enter-
prise with two French women. Tuesdays and Wednesdays from 10 until 2,
including lunch, maximum of 5 pupils. Object, to teach the fundamen-
tals of French cooking to Americans. So far we’ve given 22 lessons, and it
is working out well, and a tremendous amount of work for us professors,
as each of us has slightly different methods, and we want everything to be
as perfect and complete as possible. I’m enjoying it immensely, as I’ve fi-
nally found a real and satisfying profession which will keep me busy well
into the year 2,000. But I wish I had started in when I was 14 yrs. old.
I was fascinated with your account of the KNIFE. You must have a
kitchen full by now. And particularly pleased to hear that there are some
good ones being manufactured in the USA. The “Frozen Heat” types
sound interesting, but who, as you say, wants to send them back to be
re-sharpened. You’d have to have two sets. But, having seen lately, how
few women have any idea how to use a knife (including French women),
and remembering our American ideal of “glittering beauty,” it will take
a great deal of awakening to make the average housewife knife-conscious.

* Bernard DeVoto’s column in Harper’s.

† Robert A. Taft, a conservative Republican senator from Ohio, who was vying for the GOP nomination
for president in 1952 but lost to Dwight D. Eisenhower.
 All from One Kitchen Knife 11

I suppose one method will be the slow but sure one of the home econom-
ics courses, such as Life wrote up several weeks ago.
As to knife sharpening, I am no expert. My husband, who is a one-
man art factory, goes over them once in a while with a soap stone (car-
borundum with oil); and I keep an edge on them with a big steel fusil. I
have once this year taken them all to a professional, who did a beautiful
job, but I did feel he took off quite a bit of steel. However, I don’t ex-
pect them to last a life time, I just want them to cut well. I don’t know
anything about hones. The next time I have the “man” sharpen them, I
will hover over him, and report what he does. I think he has a mechanical
wheel, and also a hand stone. Would be interested to hear how you like
the Emmons Rifle, and what it is.
You mentioned French cream. I think the difference between theirs
and ours is how the separator is set. In theirs, the separator is set so that
what comes out of the “other” spout is practically water, which is given
to the pigs or thrown away. So it, the cream, is a most concentrated thick
mass. And what you get is “whole cream.” Some of it they make but-
ter out of, the rest is sold as “crème fraîche.” And they don’t put it un-
der refrigeration, so it gets that slightly sour taste. I wonder if one took
US cream and put it through a separator one wouldn’t get the same re-
sult. You could always get a richer flavor to your sauces by “buttering
them up,” i.e., after the sauce is off the heat, beat in bits of butter, a bit at
a time; but never reheat to even under the boil again or the sauce will thin
out or the butter will release itself. And you could get a slight sour by a
few drops of lemon juice.
Have been only once to Le Bossu, and had neither of the two dishes
you mentioned. Scrambled Eggs, French, they do not scramble them as
long as we do; the eggs remain in a soft broken custard, rather than in
flakes. Done over very low heat, almost like a Hollandaise, stirred con-
stantly until they “custard.” A bit of butter beaten in at the end will add
richness. Tarragon could be chopped up with the butter, and so impreg-
nate itself.
Veau à la Crème, à l’Estragon (a method). Heat butter in pan until it
has foamed and is just turning blonde. Sauté the veal, about 2 minutes on
each side. Salt and pepper it. Stir in minced shallots. Pour in some brandy,
set it aflame, let burn ½ minute and cover pan. Pour in a bit of white wine
(dry) and some good reduced meat stock. Sprinkle in ½ your tarragon
(chopped). Cover pan and let stew about 5 minutes. Uncover pan, turn up
heat, let sauce reduce. Add heavy cream, and let that reduce. Sprinkle in
12 As Always, Julia
fresh herbs before serving. The veal shouldn’t be overcooked, and all of
this shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes.
Mr. DeVoto’s article on the hopelessly antediluvian monsters that
Eisenhower will face in Congress* is a most sobering thought piece. But I
want the Republicans in anyway; they need to “grow up” to their respon-
sibilities. I have faith that the nation is strong enough to withstand them
and to teach them, though my faith is not without dreadful qualms.
Mon mari se joint à moi, chère madame, en vous priant d’accepter,
vous et votre mari, l’expression de nos meilleurs voeux,†
Julia Child
(Mrs. Paul Child)

8 Berkeley Street
Cambridge 38, Massachusetts
may 30, 1952
Dear Mrs. Child:
The knife has come and it is a dream — I am somewhat overwhelmed by
your kindness. I have not used it yet but I expect it will perform nobly — I
want to try it first on a fish. In about two weeks my twelve-year-old son
and I move down to the shore for the summer, and if he can’t catch what
passes for sole in those waters (flounder), he can provide me with a mack-
erel. But I think the knife will also be very good for vegetables — it really
is a joy to use knives like the two you sent me. They are as easy as possi-
ble to sharpen with a steel. Some of my best American knives are hell to
sharpen, especially the hollow-ground ones. Hollow-ground is a hollow
fraud — it may be fine for razors but in the kitchen it is perfectly useless.
Of course I know the Flint knives whose pretty picture you sent
me, and I have a fine specimen. As I think I told you, these stainless steel
knives, the expensive ones, hold an edge for quite a long time compared
with a carbon steel knife, but it is practically impossible to sharpen them
at home as the steel is too hard and too brittle. I have been faithfully using
the Frozen Heat knives sent me by Emerson Case,‡ because I promised
him I would, but they weren’t as sharp as your two knives to begin with.
Funny thing happened with one of those Robeson knives. I had an extra

* Eisenhower hoped to win over the isolationist Republicans in Congress to an internationalist ap-
proach.
† “My husband joins me, dear lady, in hoping that you and your husband will accept the expression of
our best wishes.”
‡ Case, president of Robeson Cutlery Company in Rochester, New York, developed a process for heat-
treating stainless steel blades to make them harder that he called Frozen Heat.
 All from One Kitchen Knife 13

one, roast carving size, sent me by the then president of Macy’s last sum-
mer, but when Mr. Case sent me two of his sets I gave this odd knife to
my part-time cook. Mary never abuses a knife; she has been too well in-
doctrinated by the DeVotos. But she was slicing an onion on a board one
night at home and the Robeson knife was suddenly in two neat pieces.
I sent it back to Mr. Case in great glee, and he replaced it at once since
those knives are guaranteed for a lifetime, no less, but he has still not ex-
plained why or how it could possibly have happened. In all my days I
have never had a knife come apart in my hands, even when digging dan-
delions out of the lawn.
Of course there is nothing I would like better than to come and look
at French knife factories — except possibly go to England which is the
great love of my life. But, fat chance. Or rather, there is about one chance
in a million, because there is a vague deal on foot which would bring both
the DeVoto’s to France for a month or more to take a long look at French
industry and the plan Schuman.* I really doubt if this will come off, and
DeVoto takes a dim view of it anyway, since he has always been oriented
West like a homing pigeon and indeed has just returned from a six week’s
trip to California, Oregon, Utah, Colorado, as you will duly read in
Harpers. However, I can dream, and the powers that are talking about this
trip can easily deal with such minor matters as transportation in a summer
when all space is at a premium. I am very superstitious about this possibil-
ity however, so don’t mention it to anyone at all.
The Emmons Rifle is not anywhere as good as Sheila Hibben† says it
is, or perhaps I have not mastered its use. I am mastering the hone or car-
borundum stone, but I use my steel every day. I have an absolute beauty,
a French import sent to me by a butcher’s supply house in Kansas City.
Recipes noted, and many, many thanks. I shall try your method for
Veau à la Crème, minus shallots which I can never find in the market. It
is very like my own method, except that I do not use brandy, hence no
flaming, and that I use olive oil instead of butter. I like to do vegetables
in olive oil too — mixtures such as celery, green peppers, onions — plus
sometimes eggplant and tomatoes. I like to do young carrots and scallions
that way too, very little oil and let them cook in their own steam.

* The 1950 Schuman Plan, a precursor of the European Coal and Steel Community (1952) and eventu-
ally the European Union, called for establishing a single organization to pool European coal and steel
resources.
† A food writer who had consulted on the White House menus for Eleanor Roosevelt and was a colum-
nist for The New Yorker.
14 As Always, Julia
I still hope you can eat the eggs with tarragon at Le Bossu, because
there is some element there that I have not hit on. There is one more never
to be forgotten egg dish that I hope you can help me with. This is called
pipérade and is I think of Basque origin — it is very soft scrambled eggs
with tomatoes and various kinds of peppers, so that it is full of little hot
pockets. The best place to eat it is a tiny little hole in the wall between the
Rôtisserie Périgourdine and a little nightclub named L’Ecluse — I have
forgotten the name of the restaurant which has two or three tables on
the sidewalk and a few more inside and is very inconspicuous and cheap.
At least it was in 1950. I really cannot think of any dish more suited to a
quivering stomach after too much wine the night before! Not that I ate
it as a hangover cure; I have not had a hangover in fifteen years, thank
you.
I am anxious to get to the beach — I’m tired, dispirited after a hard
winter, and nothing smoothes me out like sea air and long afternoons on
a hot beach. My son Mark is great fun to live with and we gourmandize
a lot, since Mary remains in town to look after my husband and elder
son. Address, incidentally, 21 Leonard Street, Annisquam (Gloucester),
Mass. This is on Ipswich Bay and rather heavenly. Cape Ann also provides
what I stubbornly maintain are the world’s best lobsters. I also stubbornly
maintain that the only real way to cook lobsters is in three or four inches
of sea water, in a covered kettle, for about twelve minutes (pound and a
quarter lobsters being the ideal size). You then drape these dazzling crea-
tures over the rocks until they cool off a bit, tear them apart with the bare
hands, dip each piece in melted butter, and guzzle. There should be from
two to six lobsters per person. While the lobsters cook and cool off, two
dry Martinis à la DeVoto should be served. Nothing whatever else should
be served — we are eating all the lobster we want, we are not fooling
around with salad or strawberry shortcake or even coffee. All you need
are the martinis, plenty of lobsters, millions of paper napkins, and a view.
This is one of the culinary matters where the Americans have it all over
on the French, as I hope a loyal American like you will agree. Ditto straw-
berry shortcake, season for same being upon us when the New Jersey ber-
ries come in next week. A strawberry which has traveled from Florida or
California has no taste at all. I am not saying that the French lobster in all
its sizes and varieties is not a fine thing, but when you have plenty of lob-
sters right out of the ocean I think it is a crime to obscure that heavenly
flavor with any sauces.
 All from One Kitchen Knife 15

We will be in Annisquam until September 10th or so, DeVoto com-

muting week-ends as it is only 45 miles.
I am fascinated by your account of your cooking school — what a
wonderful job to tackle. Do you plan to come back to America eventually
and set up shop here? You will have no competition except Mrs. Lucas,*
who at present is sweeping all before her, on radio, television, and in per-
son. She comes to Boston every spring under the auspices of the Smith
College Club to make six or eight public appearances, which are mobbed.
I must admit she is a very good showman, and I believe she is making
a fortune. She also hits the road and has appeared as far west as Seattle.
Plenty of room in the field for you, and a very good living. I would give
anything to take such a course as I really do love to cook and there is so
much I have to learn. But there just isn’t time. I do a weekly newspa-
per column on detective stories — very mere, badly paid, and I do all my
husband’s secretarial stuff, all the typing, take dictation from a tape re-
corder, and handle a lot of his routine mail on my own. The house is big
and the children need me a lot. Plus all this I am now correcting proofs
on the new book, which will appear late in the fall, and it’s a hell of a job,
the footnotes and bibliography especially which have some horrifying
items in illiterate, 16th–17th century French, Spanish and so on. I am los-
ing my mind.
Well, it is very relaxing writing to you, but there are other fish to fry.
I am keeping your letters in my fat file on kitchen knives — we still have
hopes of another article on the subject but we haven’t got round to vis-
iting these local foundries yet. Maybe next fall, if things calm down a
bit. If you ever hear of a stainless steel knife made in France, I wish you
would let me know — I cannot believe that French manufacturers will
ever fall for that fraud, but in the interest of expanding markets they may
have to. Let us hope they find chrome too hard to come by.
Now I must bully my eldest into washing the car, a proper job for
Memorial Day when any cautious American stays off the roads. I love my
new knife, and so do all the visitors who have seen it. Thank you a thou-
sand times.
Yours,
Avis DeVoto

* Dione Lucas, an English chef, cooking teacher, and cookbook author; an early champion of French
cooking; and the first woman to have her own cooking show in the United States.