As Always, Julia is a collection of letters between Julia Child (yes, that Julia) and her dear friend, Avis DeVoto. It’s part cookbook, part history, part good old-fashioned friendship.
The letters span years, touching on everything from recipes and politics to husbands and heartbreak. Julia is her usual witty, passionate self. Avis? She’s sharp, warm, and just as opinionated. Their banter is a joy—sometimes laugh-out-loud funny, sometimes quietly moving.
You’ll get a peek into the making of Mastering the Art of French Cooking—and all the bumps along the way. Spoiler: publishing a cookbook wasn’t easy. (Let’s just say there were many rewrites.)
But what really shines through is their friendship. The kind built on long letters, shared meals, and honest advice. It’s comforting, inspiring, and just plain lovely to read.
Perfect for anyone who loves food, letters, or stories that unfold slowly and beautifully.
A 70-Cent Knife Sparked Everything: The entire friendship between Julia Child and Avis DeVoto began when Julia sent a 70-cent carbon steel French paring knife to Bernard DeVoto after reading his Harper’s article complaining about dull American stainless steel knives. Avis, who handled her husband’s correspondence, wrote back, and what started as a thank-you note blossomed into one of the most consequential friendships in culinary history!
They Wrote Before They Met: Julia and Avis exchanged around 120 letters over two years before meeting face-to-face in 1954. Can you imagine building such an intimate friendship entirely through letters? They went from “Dear Mrs. Child” and “Dear Mrs. DeVoto” to soul sisters who shared everything from recipes to politics to their deepest insecurities, all without ever laying eyes on each other.
The Letters Were Sealed Away: Joan Reardon had collected most of Avis’s letters to Julia during her research, but Julia’s letters to Avis remained a mystery until 2006. That’s when the Avis DeVoto papers were unsealed after 30 years in Harvard’s Schlesinger Library. Imagine the thrill of finally reading Julia’s side of this legendary correspondence after three decades!
Over 200 Letters Chronicle History: The book contains more than 200 letters exchanged between 1952 and 1961, documenting not just the creation of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, but America itself on the verge of transformation. These women discussed McCarthyism, sexual mores, the lack of good wine in America, and the specter of security clearances alongside their beloved “cookery-bookery.”
Houghton Mifflin Rejected It Twice: Before Knopf published the masterpiece, Houghton Mifflin rejected the manuscript twice, calling it too encyclopedic and telling Julia that no American woman would want to know that much about French cooking. The publisher worried the book’s size would make it unprofitable. Thank goodness editor Judith Jones at Knopf disagreed and fell in love with the manuscript!
The Advance Was Tiny: When Houghton Mifflin finally signed a contract with Julia and her co-authors on June 1, 1954, the advance was just $750 total. Julia received one-third of that as the representative of Les Trois Gourmandes. From that modest beginning came one of the most influential cookbooks ever written!
Avis Was the Unofficial Literary Agent: Avis DeVoto wasn’t just a pen pal; she was Julia’s unofficial literary agent, early reader, and line editor. She steered the manuscript first to Houghton Mifflin, then when they rejected it, pushed it to Knopf where she worked as a cookbook scout and editor from 1956 to 1958. Without Avis’s connections and persistence, Mastering might never have been published!
The Letters Are Frank and Bawdy: These aren’t polite, proper 1950s housewife letters! The correspondence is described as frank, bawdy, funny, exuberant, and occasionally agonized. The women discussed everything from shallots and beurre blanc to politics, aging, and sex. They were two women in their 40s letting rip about life in an era when such candor was rare!
“To think that we might easily 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.”
“Well, all I know is this—nothing you ever learn is really wasted, and will sometime be used.”
“I’m getting stale. I always do this time of year… I feel as if I’d been swallowed up whole by all these powerful DeVotos and I’d like to be me for a while with somebody who never heard the name.”
“But how nice it is that one can come to know someone just through correspondence, and become really passionate friends.”
“You have come nearer to mastering a good many aspects of cooking than anyone except a handful of great chefs, and some day it will pay off. I know it will. You will just have to go on working, and teaching, and getting around, and spreading the gospel until it does.”
“I am in a state about all of this. I comb the newspapers… well, dear, I am no lady and I argue loudly and lose my temper and it’s disgraceful.”
“My, I get so depressed after a poor meal; that’s why I can never stay in England for more than a week.”
“It is horrible how people will use anything as a political monkey wrench and to hell with the country.”
“There is no good cooking, only good eating.”
“No one is born a great cook, one learns by doing.”
• Fans of Julia Child who want a deeper look into her personal life and friendships
• Food lovers interested in the history and evolution of American cuisine
• Readers who enjoy epistolary formats and real life correspondence
• History buffs curious about postwar America through the lens of two intelligent women