Not too long ago, while engaged in the pleasant task of spring cleaning the book shelves, I found my mother’s old cookbook. It has a wonderful collection of old recipes that she had written out from magazines or learnt at family lunches when she was around my age. As I was thumbing through the pages trying to remember when she had last made some of those delicious dishes and thinking that maybe it is time for me to start making them myself, I found an old letter from my grandmother with a recipe in it. That letter has been preserved in the old hand written cookbook for almost four decades.
I think that cookbooks, much like other legacies, should be passed down from one generation of women to the next. The delectable dishes described in those books should not be lost as time goes by. The wisdom of making food with love ought to be passed on from mother to daughter.
The old letter, with its faded ink and my possession of my mother’s book of yummies, made me think that it’s time for me to start keeping my own cookbook, filled with recipes I love and little bits of information and advice passed on from my mother to me, to be given to my child when she takes her first steps in a kitchen of her own.