Julia Child was a pioneer, opening the door for female chefs and female journalists in the U.S. and beyond.

Before I became a foodie, I didn’t really understand the fuss about Julia Child. I watched her on PBS occasionally growing up, but I couldn’t relate to her or to the food she prepared. It wasn’t anything like the food served in my family, where meals were built around meat and potatoes. Vegetables were likely to be salads or canned corn since these were the two options all us kids liked.

When I started cooking for my husband, who comes from the Netherlands, he would ask what’s for dinner, which to him meant what vegetable was I planning. That’s how important vegetables are to him. In time, I learned to love vegetables and, in the process, fell in love with cooking and eating good food.

My culinary coming-of-age coincided with the New American food movement, which began in the 1970s and focused on fresh, local ingredients. When I traveled in Europe in the 80s (and incidentally met my husband), my eyes widened as I tasted delicious continental cuisine in Italy, Scandinavia, Spain, and yes, France.

Fast forward a few decades. I watched the popular movie “Julie & Julia” starring Meryl Streep and Amy Adams and learned more about Julia Child. But I wasn’t inspired to try to master the art of French cooking.

When I found out the Virginia Museum of History and Culture in Richmond was showing a temporary exhibit called “Julia Child: A Recipe for Life,” I knew I wanted to go. My friend Robin, who lives in the capital, and I picked a date for our Girl’s Day Out and planned to cap off our museum visit with lunch at Can Can Brasserie, a French bistro on Cary Street.

Revered and Remembered

Robin and I joined the milling crowd at the exhibit entrance, excited to discover Julia Child’s recipe for life. The exhibition traces her early years as the oldest child in a well-to-do family, the McWilliams from Pasadena, California. She attended Smith College with the idea of becoming a writer, but WWII intervened and Julia joined the Office of Strategic Services. While serving in Sri Lanka, she met Paul Child. They fell in love and married in 1946. Robin and I loved the romantic French accordion music playing in the background as we wandered through this first section.

Next the exhibit focuses on the couple’s time in Paris, where Paul was assigned to the American Embassy. It was here that Julia developed a passion for all things French, including eating and cooking. What struck me about Julia’s early life was how enamored the couple were of each other, an abiding love that endured throughout their lives.

Every year they would create a kooky Valentine’s Day card to send to their friends, including one that featured a photo of the couple in a bubble bath. Paul was also quite a poet and regularly penned sonnets in honor of his wife. They truly were madly in love.

The exhibit takes visitors along Julia’s journey to cookbook writer and then TV personality. While she wasn’t the first female cooking show host in the U.S., she is easily the most revered and remembered, due to her natural style, humor, and friendly personality. In fact, I never realized how much of a pioneer Julia was, opening the door for female chefs and female journalists in the U.S. and beyond.

Robin and I had fun taking photos of each other in the mock Julia Child kitchen complete with TV camera. We also enjoyed the videos showing clips of Julia cooking, including one where she flips an omelet with less-than-perfect results. “Well, that didn’t go very well,” she says in her melodic voice. Sprinkled throughout the exhibit are quotes by Julia, such as “Try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless, and above all have fun.”

Robin had never been to the Virginia Museum of History and Culture, so we took some time to wander through the museum’s permanent exhibits, which showcase the people and things that make Virginia unique. I’m always drawn to the museum’s colorful murals of Confederate soldiers, part of a telling exhibit called “The Lost Cause,” which looks at how Southerners continued to glorify the Confederacy in textbooks and statuary long after the Civil War ended.

Cooked to Perfection

Next stop: Can Can Brasserie! Yay! We sat near the front overlooking Cary Street, a-bustle with pedestrians and cars. Cozy booths and a long, wooden bar offer additional seating. Baskets filled with French baguettes—available for sale—add to the European vibe, as do the wait staff in long aprons and crisp button down shirts.

I’d already checked out Can Can’s menu online and chosen a dish Julia would have approved of—and one I’ve never tried to make: Duck a l’Orange. Our server brought water and an assortment of incredibly delicious bread to the table. Robin and I ordered a carafe of French rosé—mais oui!—and then our mains: duck for me and Bouillabaisse for her. Last but not least, a side of French fries.

Our food arrived beautifully plated. The duck leg and thigh rested atop a mound of fresh Frisée, my favorite lettuce, a few sprigs of broccolini, and juicy orange slices as garnish. Bathed in a dark glistening sauce, the duck was cooked to perfection, and the dish tasted as good as it looked.

Robin’s Bouillabasse was served with pimiento-cheese topped toasted bread, a combination we thought seemed odd. But the seafood stew tasted fine, and the French fries were a hit. Lunch felt like the perfect ending to our Girls’ Day Out, one Julia would have heartily approved of.

Back at home, I looked up Julia’s recipe for Duck a l’Orange. You can watch Julia prepare it on an episode of “The French Cook” on YouTube. In her old-fashioned kitchen (with a push-button electric stove!), Julia deftly makes her sauce and preps her duck, all while giving tips and advice on how “any home cook” can prepare this elegant meal. She makes it look so easy that I’m going to try to prepare it one day. Even if I fail miserably, I’m sure I’ll learn from my mistakes and have fun!

Bon appetit, mes amis.

For more information about the exhibit, visit virginiahistory.org. Go to cancanrva.com for information about Can Can.