I didn't get to read the book, but I saw the film this afternoon. It's one of these rare incidents when my heart says yes but my mind says no. Still, it's no use getting all analytical about the film, even my inner foodie won't let me.

Surprisingly, what I like the most about the film is not the shared connection between Julie and Julia, not Paris or the food, but their own love life. In a way, it's almost like that Julia wouldn't be Julia if she wasn't with Paul. And Julie would be just another struggling single gal circa Sex and the City , minus the glamour. As strange as this may sounds, the two characters are richer and more alive because they are rich in love.

He raises his glass, and says, " you are the butter on my toast, breath of my life."

My eyes went wet, as if I have never heard of a sweeter word.