Paul and Julia Child. If not for him, would we have ever been graced with the talents of the former Ms. McWilliams? One will never know. However we do know that they shared a sensual zest unlike many others and reveled in it until the end.
While a bit hokey for these days, I share with you below a sonnet written by Paul for Julia on her 49th birthday. I've got to admit - comparisons between rounded bottoms and scrambled eggs are crazy funny, but I think we all know what fueled this piece.
O Julia, Julia, cook and nifty wench,
Whose unsurpassed quenelles and hot souffles,
Whose English, Norse and German, and whose French,
Are all beyond my piteous powers to praise --
Whose sweetly rounded bottom and whose legs,
Whose gracious face, whose nature temperate,
Are only equalled by her scrambled eggs:
Accept from me, your ever-loving mate,
This acclamation shaped in fourteen lines
Whose inner truth belies its outer sight;
For never were there foods, nor were there wines
Whose flavor equals yours for sheer delight.
O luscious dish! O gustatory pleasure!
You satisfy my taste buds beyond measure.