After spending more than five years in Paris, Julia Child went to the south of France in 1953, where her husband, Paul, was assigned duty as a cultural officer at the sleepy American consulate in Marseille. The port city was a “labyrinth,” a city of “hot noise,” Child reflected years later. A short, hard-to-endure interval at a hotel yielded to their taking an apartment in the Old Port area. “I was so relieved to have a kitchen, albeit one the size of a sailboat’s galley, that I whipped up a wizard soupe de poisson [strained fish soup] for lunch on our first day in residence.”
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