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The Boston Globe



Blessings from Julia Child

A mother’s notes on a supermarket encounter.

AS THE WORKING MOM of twin 3-year-olds, I find food is often a source of anxiety. Mealtimes are stressful, but I most dread the grocery store, where I can’t help but compare my cart with those around me. Everyone else’s seems to be full of fresh fruits and vegetables, uncooked grains, and beautiful cuts of raw meat, while mine is filled to the brim with convenience foods and screaming children. I am not a woman who Has It All. Sometimes I catch my fellow shoppers’ disapproving glances and start to panic. Can they see the Lunchables, I wonder. Or are they hidden by the frozen lasagna?

 More than a decade ago, long before kids, I had the ultimate opportunity to do some shopping-cart spying. While picking up supplies for what we hoped would be a retro-hip fondue party, my friend Maggie and I met Julia Child in the Star Market on Comm. Ave. near BU.

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