I have a passion for cook books.I read them like the juiciest novel.I take them to bed with me to read myself to sleep. I keep a stack of them on the coffee table where most people house magazines. The best ones are vintage ones,they not only have long forgotten recipes.sometimes for the better but in their backs are usually a "helpful hints" section.Tidbits of archaic home keeping using items that are no longer made and entailing more work than a modern woman wants to do.
I am working on writing a cook book for our boys. Both boys want my recipes and cook books.You see in their youthfulness they can't see that, just because they will someday move into their own homes where they will have to feed themselves , I won't be dead; I'll still need those books and recipes.
Looking through my Holly Hobbie recipe file that was full of clippings the wheels in my head started to turn, a seed of an idea was planted that could grow into the cookbook for the boys.Then Chance brought out my own recipe box and my grandmothers.
Let me side track for a moment.My grandmother's recipe box really added to my thoughts on my book to be written.When grandma died no one wanted her recipe box.I did but I always seem to want the things no one else wants.One mans trash is another man's treasure.
Grandma was a horrible cook, that is why no one wanted it. I think every one of my cousins were remembering Tater Tot Casserole. The one dish Grandma made every single time one of us grand kids came to visit.The dish that made all of us gag and forget we were hungry.Layers of tater tots,hamburger,cream of mushroom soup and topped with cheese.Trauma at the dinner table. No wonder Grandpa was so lean and the cat so fat.
When I opened Grandma's box there was the jewel, that moment of bliss,my treasure in the trash,Grandma's handwriting.Neatly written with excellent directions and notes about her results or changes. And two of my Aunt's handwriting and way in the back the name of the recipe written in Norwegian my Great Grandma's writing.
That moment of pleasure is what I want to capture as I write this crazy book. I want the boys to someday open their book and be able to say."Look here's mom's,Nana's,Great Grandma and Great Great Grandma's writing." My boys are tender heart- ed family orientated kind of guys, they will get it . My vision, part cook book,family tree and family history all bound together.
Not a new idea,many families have these books but I am inspired none the less.It has motivated me to sort through my own recipes and pitch the ones that were bad or never made. Issac also reminded me to start writing down the measurements for things I just make. I have a few years until at least Issac is out the door I should be able to have the book ready for him.
Homesteading has slowed down a bit.The weather is wet and cool here.We started to put parts of the garden to bed for the winter.My hens are still not laying.They are excused for now because they are molting.Poor Abby is nearly naked and just as the weather turned.(how dose that work? They molt just as the weather is cold.) Two more weeks and the Sour Kraut will be ready to can. Just settling in for the coming months focusing our work towards indoor projects.