Butter, Butter, Butter

We saw Julie and Julia yesterday afternoon. It's great entertainment, and lived up to the expectations the trailers created. My hubby loves Meryl Streep. She was perfect for the part. What I find the best about this movie is the fact that all through the movie Julia and her husband ate butter, butter and more butter and smoked, smoked, smoked and both lived well into their 90's. I have no idea what the state of their health was when they died, but certainly their love affair with these popularly modern demons didn't shorten their lifespans.
I don't smoke, but I do love butter. I am conscious of how much I use, but would rather use butter than any of the substitutes.
I have never studied something I think is called "The French Contradiction," or something like that, stating that the French indulge in butter far more than Americans, and have less heart disease. It has something to do with the red wine, or so I've heard. I realize this last paragraph reveals my thin investigational skills. Okay, I just googled, and wasn't satisfied with what I found, because I never really found what I was looking for. But if it does exist, it must have worked for the Childs'.
It was a pleasure to watch these two actors recreating what must have been fairly close to the reality of what it was like to be studying cooking in Paris and to delight in food food food with cream, butter, garlic, aw, delicious. I just think they loved food and lived for food. No government studies on if they were fat, no health care crisis, just the joy of gastronomic delights. (There were some bottles of antacids, however.)
The food in the film looked lovely. Julia and her husband and Julie and her husband looked happily married and supportive of each other, though when one person in a couple has a focused goal and deadline, that one person does seem to become egocentric...but there is an end date in mind. So all's well.