I'm lamenting a recent urge to declutter. You've heard of "buyer's remorse" I'm sure, but this is more like tosser's remorse. I got rid of a box full of cookbooks, including one from my mother, her Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook. You know, the one with the red and black checked cover? I think this edition dated to the '60s, maybe ten years after she married my dad. I don't have a lot of sentimental value to many things related to my mother (a long story for another post. Maybe another blog.), but there were some recipes in this cookbook I'm realizing I miss. I saved the page with the apple pie recipe. Funny, since this one I know by heart, but why didn't I save the page with the banana nut bread recipe? Everybody has their favorite recipes for banana bread, and this was mine. I'm sure I'll find it online, but it would be comforting, right about now, to be able to pull that old dinosaur cookbook off the shelf and consult its wisdom. Yes, the pages were stained and illegible in places. Yes, the tabs were crumbling away so the book had no real organization anymore. But I knew where the tuna noodle casserole recipe was by feel! Well, o.k., the "feel" was the crustiness from leaving the cookbook out too close to the mixing bowl, but you know what I mean. Three-quarters of the way through the book was the "casseroles" (or was "one dish meals"?) Whatever. I'm sorry now I put it in that box. I can replicate the recipes, but not the "feel."
Season’s Greetings, or Saturday Morning at 8:40am
10 hours ago