Teacher1: Today we will begin by learning to boil eggs. First, you must make sure that the egg is fresh.
Julia: I was so hoping that... Well, for something a little more advanced, Madame Brassart.
Brassart: But you are not an advanced cook.
Julia: But I do know how to boil an egg.
Brassart: Do you know how to bone a duck?
Julia: No, but that's exactly the sort of thing that I'm very interested in learning how to do.
Brassart: There is one other class, but you will not like it. It's for professionnel, which you will never be, I'm sure. All men. All GIs. And very expensive. I cannot imagine that you would ever want to pay the tuition.
Julia: How much?
Teacher2: So the onion is ready, but...
Teacher2: Bonjour, Madame! (Everybody slicing the onions) Madame! You must hold the knife, first of all, like this. Wrist, easy. Leave the thumb here. The hand and the knife are one. And the hand, the other hand, you must protect it. Here, you must cut only the onion. Yes?
Julia: Not me.
Teacher2: Yes. And then, you put your thumb here and the other fingers here.
Paul: Jule? You're being a little over-competitive, don't you think?
Julia: Well, you should've seen the way those men looked at me. As if I were some frivolous housewife, just looking for a way to kill time.
Julia: Where are you going?
Paul: Not here.
Julia: You hungry?
Julia: Good. (In the class) Ta-da!
Teacher2: Well done, Madame Child.
Julia’s letter: Dear Avis, I'm in my third week at Le Cordon Bleu, and I'm in utter bliss. Every morning the alarm goes off at 6:30, and I leap out of bed.
Julia: I'm up!
Julia’s letter: By 7:30 I'm in class, in my apron, peeling potatoes. Then we cook stock and we bone fish. We dress pigeons. We make pastry with so much butter, it almost stops your heart just to look at it. My teacher moves so quickly I'm sometimes lost. But I'm way ahead of the others in the class, all of them men, and all of them very unfriendly, until they discovered I was fearless. Something I realized about the same time they did. Morning class ends at 12:30, then I go home and make lunch for Paul. Then Paul takes a nap. And later in the afternoon, he goes back to the embassy and I go back to school.
Teacher2: You must have a mortar and pestle.
Julia’s letter: Incidentally, my father is horrified I'm going to cooking school. Offered to give me extra money to hire a cook.
Teacher2: Go on. Fun! Joy! This is what matters.
Julia’s letter: I'm probably the only American I know in Paris who thinks shopping for food is as much fun as buying a dress. Course, you'd think so too, if you lived in a country where absolutely nothing comes in my size. By the way, did you know that if you don't dry meat, it won't brown properly? Irma Rombauer doesn't say a word about it in the Joy of Cooking. Avis, I am in heaven here. I've been looking for a career all my life...
Paul: Happy Valentine's Day.
Julia’s letter: ...and I've found it.
Paul: We met in Ceylon when we were in the OSS.
Julia: But he never noticed me at first.
Paul: Well, that's not true. I noticed you. I noticed your legs straightaway.
Julia: Oh, you were such a roué. All the women were mad for him.
Paul: Can you blame them? Anyway, we were sent off to China.
Julia: Absolutely delicious, if I do say so myself.
Woman: Julia. When you finish your term, you'll be teaching at Cordon Bleu.
Julia: No, I don't think so. The woman who runs it absolutely hates me!
Man: Come on. Oh, no one could possibly hate you.
Julia: That's true. But she does.
Woman: Were you spies?
Paul: No. Yes. No.
Woman: Oh, so cagey, right?
Man: You were in the Office of Strategic Services and you were not spies?
Julia: I was only a file clerk. But Paul? Paul designed all of the secret war rooms for General Mountbatten.
Paul: Well, just maps and exhibits and things. It wasn't...
Julia: He did! He single-handedly won the war for us.
Paul: Well, I had to. Someone did. I mean, it was dragging on, wasn't it? Anyway, so there we were in China, just friends having dinner, and it turned out to be Julia. It turned out to be Julia all along. Julia, you are the butter to my bread, and the breath to my life. I love you, darling girl. Happy Valentine's Day.