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!
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| A small sampling of my treasury. |
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