A recipe book - pages and pages filled with glorious instruction on food preparation and pictures that if you could, you’d eat. I buy recipe books like other women buy shoes or purses. They pull me in and I just can’t get enough of them. To me, a recipe book is the start of something wonderful. It offers the anticipation of something delicious or of an evening spent with good friends. Their forwards remind me of why I love to be in the kitchen for hours and they validate that use of time as time very well spent.
Recipe books line the shelves of my kitchen. Some are new and shiny, while others show their wear and prove through their ripped pages and loose bindings that they hold recipes that have been, or will be, passed down through generations.
One of my favourite things to do when I visit friends is to look through their collection of recipe books. I ask a lot of questions about which their favourites are and how they came to choose the books they did. I want to try their recipes or, even better, have them tried on me.
I’m not sure when exactly this admiration of books about food began. I am not a chef but I do love to cook and bake. I especially love to do both of these things for other people. As one of my friends very eloquently put, food is my love language. It is how I show the people in my life that I care.
Most recipe books will share personal anecdotes from their colourful authors. You might read about how they experienced food growing up, how they entertain or what good food means to them. The next time you pick up a book filled with the music of food, spend some time in its forward and fall in love with your favourite recipes all over again.
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