The Joy of Cooking Volume 2

I am a rule follower unless I'm cooking. It is why my baking is often a chancy proposition - one time long ago I thought I would bake and sell sell pies - the crust was my undoing !

My mom is meticulous, particularly when it comes to recipes. Even my best friend, a woman whose wallet looks like a bomb went off, follows them to a tee.

Even when I vow to follow a recipe, I always tweak it just a bit. Sometimes it is because I don’t have the proper ingredients, other times I am too lazy to grab the measuring spoons or it is because I don’t particularly like capers.

It should also be known I love cookbooks and cooking magazines. I would bet over half of my internet/blog reading includes recipes and meal plans of all kinds. I will someday proudly inherit my mother's incredible collection of cookbooks, binders and index cards; I will be amused by her handwritten notes "easy, kids enjoyed" knowing that she did not deviate from a single teaspoon of vanilla.

I have been told my paternal grandmother cooked the same way that I do - flames licking at her wrists, no cookbook in sight. Whereas my maternal grandmother, who was also a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen, always followed the rules.

I suppose I view recipes as inspiration. I follow the rules elsewhere, so every so often I let them slide into the skillet.

The Joy of Cooking


My mother, the master of the standing rib roast and mile-high lemon meringue pie, said more than once that if you could read, you could cook. Dutiful daughter, I have always been married to the recipe, every word, and own piles of cookbooks - some falling apart from years of use and some just for the pleasure of idling in somebody else's kitchen so to speak. Even when I search the internet for an elusive recipe , I always have to print it up to read again and again!

My daughter, on the other hand, is a free spirit when it comes to cooking. She tinkers with every recipe, adding and subtracting ingredients with abandon. Cooking to her seems to be less an art than an experiment - it would be a complete mystery to me except that I do remember my mother-in-law never followed a recipe in her life - even her jello was hit or miss but that's a story for another day!

I have an enormous notebook filled with my favorite recipes (and I'm still adding!) but it occurred to me the other day that my daughter might not treasure my collection after all! Or will use it for a doorstop!



A small sampling of my treasury.

If they ask me why...

I have never kept a journal for very long - a yearlong gardening journal, a journal detailing my reading choices. Upon my death they will not find a treasure trove of my insightful speculations and global musings cleverly crafted, bound and preserved awaiting an eager reader or publication. Instead, I seem to spend my days talking to the back of my husband's head, wondering if I have wasted my pithy remarks, clever quips and near brilliant insights.

So now, with high hopes, I'm turning to the blog - my online diary for all to read, ponder, comment or even judge. I have added what I feel is certainly a wonderful twist. - my daughter will blog with me! Perhaps not an original idea, but so fascinating to share and compare our generational views of the world – or perhaps just a peek into our little worlds of hearth and home.

As mother and daughter, we share certain commonalities of personality, family, education, motherhood, and yet it’s clear that we approach so many issues from opposing viewpoints! We don't always agree but continue to make interesting arguments to each other - well, interesting to us!

Will we have readers, responders, ignorers? Are we just filing our thoughts and memories? If nothing else, I will now have that treasure trove for my progeny to ponder!