PS, Honorary Dirty Bitch Julia Child

O Julia, Julia, Cook and nifty wench,

Whose unsurpassed quenelles and hot souffl�s,

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 equaled 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.

- Paul Child, Birthday 1961