In 1985 I was invited to sit on the Founding Board for the American Institute of Wine & Food (AIWF, a non-profit organization dedicated to education of gastronomy and enhancement of the food and wine experience). Among the esteemed food and wine professionals to join as founding advisors and board members were: Julia Child ( Cook/educator/TV personality); James Beard (American chef/Author); Jeremiah Tower (Celebrity chef/restauranteur); Robert Mondavi ( Winemaker/Owner Mondavi Vineyard); Richard Graff (Owner/Winemaker of Chalone Vineyard); and Alice Waters (Owner/Chef Chez Panisse).

When I first took a seat at the board meeting next to Julia, she looked to her left at me and smiled. I was sitting next to her dressed in my usual jeans and wheat-colored corduroy jacket and introduced myself while thanking her for the years of enjoying her television show, 'The French Chef'. This woman was more than a legend to me. Like many other American cooks, professional and not, she was absorbed into our household and into my heart. She was already a friend.

"Hello Gary. Happy to have you join us," she said in that 'only-Julia' way. I was awed and smitten—in a respectful kind of way. I wanted to ask her a stupid question like, when was the last time you used a dumb waiter? But I didn't. I'd save this for later. And then we got down to work. I had already been familiar with most of the other 'stars' around the table having met them previously during the public relations and marketing work I had been doing for The Monterey Vineyard with esteemed winemaker and friend, Dr. Richard Peterson.

We were all excited to bring the AIWF to life. At the time I joined the board there were already several AIWF regional chapters across the nation, each creating local events for food enthusiasts, restauranteurs, and wineries with the purpose to network, educate and raise funds to support scholarships for people in the food/wine business. I was representing The Wine Spectrum, a subsidiary of The Coca-Cola Company consisting of The Monterey Vineyard, Sterling Vineyard and The Taylor Wine Company.

There was discussion about what city we would seek to open our next Chapter—Dallas?—Boston? I proposed to the board that there should be a chapter for the Monterey Peninsula. My proposal was turned down because the board felt there was insufficient growth potential for enrolling new corporate sponsors and founding members. "We should be seeking chapters from major cities. The Monterey/Carmel/Salinas area is just too small," was the reply I received from the majority.

I countered with, "This is the 'salad bowl of the nation' supported by leading ag businesses, a burgeoning wine industry, and Carmel is the home and visitor destination of many wealthy 'foodies' from around the country. I'm convinced that a chapter for this area can rival major cities for membership, sponsorship growth and financial support." As our board meeting broke Julia leaned into me and whispered, "Just do it Gary. I'll support you." Within a few months the Monterey Peninsula Chapter soon became one of the fastest growing chapters in the U.S.

I had the pleasure of traveling with Julia to a variety of cities around the country to host sponsor dinners for new AIWF chapters. I experienced first-hand many people across the country who loved and appreciated how Julia enhanced their lives through her television series and cookbooks—how many people laughed their way into the kitchen through Julia's cooking shows.

Having Julia in my life was nourishing. She was like a mom to me, a friend and mentor. She taught me about life, about creating and appreciating food and being generous with others.

When I took Julia out to dine, I made it a practice to select restaurant chefs who never had an opportunity to meet 'America's Favorite Cook.' Often, while dining at a local restaurant Julia would want to visit the kitchen. She made it a point to say hello to, ask questions of, and inspire all the kitchen help including the dishwashers. She made everyone feel that what they did was important and continuing in food service was a noble service. During one of her visits to Carmel I was scheduled to take Julia out to dinner the same day my dear friend, Linda Stemmler, formerly my partner with the San Francisco Wine Center in the 80s, had invited me for dinner at her home with her husband Mike. She was to be roasting a chicken for the three of us. "May I bring a friend?" I called to ask. "Sure, we'd love to have both of you...nothing fancy, come as you are." A few hours later I was knocking at the front door of their beautiful home on the ocean of Carmel Highlands, with Julia on my arm.

When Linda opened her door, she recognized my guest. Her eyes went wide. She caught her breath, broke into a warm smile, and invited us both into the kitchen as she very nervously finished her cooking.

It was a wonderful dinner.

In 1982, we threw an 80th Birthday party for Julia at the Highlands Inn in Carmel Highlands where celebrity chefs from around California joined esteemed Executive Chef, Brian Whitmer to showcase their culinary creations. Two days prior to the dinner I called the White House and requested that the President send a letter of gratitude to Julia for her contributions to America. One hour before dinner, George and Barbara Bush followed up with a precious acknowledgement to Julia in a fax to me that I read to her and our two hundred dinner guests.

Several weeks prior to this dinner I made an announcement on our tomatofest.com website inviting folks from around the nation and beyond an opportunity to wish Julia their "Happy Birthday Julia" greeting that I would deliver to her personally. I received hundreds of 'letters' and presented all of them to her in a 'book' following dinner. Many of the 'letters' contained snippets of humor, mostly from women, about how she saved their marriage. Some written from long-ago friends or acquaintances enjoying the opportunity to re-connect. Some displayed considerable familiarity with Julia. This is one of the 'letters.'

"Dear Julia, I wanted to be sure my tribute reached you. In the Boston papers it ran as "A Love Letter to Julia". We love you because: You are a combination of elegant Great Lady and everyone's Aunt Sadie. You have the pixie streak of the ribald which flashed frequently and totally disarms the listener. You are completely devoid of the ugly symptoms of the disease peculiar to media stars, Feminas Prima-Donnas Vulgaris. You are disconcertingly in touch with today, its issues and concerns, a faculty which eludes many adults much younger than you. You have an endearing way of sitting 'kitty corner' on chairs. You're a workaholic and love every minute of it. You are filled with wonder about the smallest things-the crunch of pretzels, the history of your dining room chairs. You're filled with concern for other folks' tragedies...the lack of professionalism among some young students who want to be big-name chefs without having paid their apprenticeship dues. You ask caring questions, and then listen with your whole being to the answers (Do you realize how rare that quality is?) You have a highly developed and continuously exercised sense of the absurd-and you chuckle, I've even heard you giggle. You are a woman who speaks with affection and tenderness about your Paul, the man with whom you have spent so many years. As we age, many women become waspish with and about our men, and you shame us. You are generous with shared memories of your marriage, thank you. You are tall, both in stature and demeanor. You make people in the same space with you feel tall also...it's a heady feeling. You are fearless in your opinions, opinions based on a vast, undisputed knowledge of life and living, an innate propriety and great intelligence. Finally, because space is finite, everyone whom you touch, in person or via the electronic media, is enriched beyond description. Thank you, Julia Child. — Lotte Mendelsohn, Pebble Beach, CA

Julia took me to lunch to celebrate my birthday in 1990 at Silver-Jones restaurant in The Barnyard in Carmel. We talked of our local history of food and wine, the importance of families dining together, her husband Paul and my children. But mostly, it seems, we laughed a lot. After glasses of Champagne, I donned a 'grasshopper' mask supplied by the staff for my candle blowing. It was three-hours-of-fabulous! Then I noticed the time and said to Julia,
"We have to change for dinner and have little time to do so."
"I only need a few minutes to freshen up and do my hair. Just take me to my hotel and pick me up in an hour."
"I hope you aren't too full to enjoy all the foods being prepared for you tonight," I said while loosening my belt.
"You know you don't have to worry about me Gary."

Julia was my date for this AIWF Founders Dinner, a black-tie affair at Rancho San Carlos, in Carmel Valley. where we dined to the music of a string quartet until midnight. This is a good time to mention that sitting next to Julia when dining was always a scintillating experience. She was the 'belle of the ball' at every dinner. Everyone had stories to share with Julia. Our table of eight might shortly become a table of twelve. When dessert was offered Julia often turned it down. I would order dessert for myself. Then she would reach over with her fork and enjoy mine with me. "Hey! Julia."

Many of our lives, around the nation and around our community of Carmel, California have been nourished and embellished with Julia's participation and influence through close encounters, television, or publications as she so genuinely offered, "Bon Appétit." Julia was a spontaneous, good-hearted warbler of kindness, culinary information, and humor.

Each year, until her death in 2004, Dagma and I delivered her a case of her namesake tomatoes to her home in Montecito, California, which she shared with friends, saving for herself some tomatoes for her favorite tomato "samich" (white bread, thick slice of tomato, mayo and a spray of salt).

Truly, Julia's was a life well lived. I am fortunate to have shared a small part of her wonderful life.