The sentimental attachment to handwritten recipes

Published 8:00 am Monday, November 9, 2020

When I got married my mom gifted me a box filled with family recipes. The stacks of assorted recipes collected from each and every side of my family tree reflect no semblance of order. Some are handwritten while others are yellowed clippings from magazines and newspapers. I love to idly sift through this box, but not necessarily on the search for a new recipe to add to my repertoire. And not just because many of the dishes showcase the Mid-Century’s love affair with gelatin and serving molds. Actually, yes it is – I prefer my salads don’t jiggle.

For me the joy is in the beauty of the handwritten notes, hurriedly scratched on the back of bank deposit slips or church bulletins. Name’s proving original ownership in the tophand corner – names I haven’t seen since childhood. The charm of a misspelled word. The handwriting so delicate it breaks your heart. The humor in a “150-Calorie Hourly Diet” with notes in the margins so detailed it may as well be for a quantum physics course.

It’s often remarked how our culinary traditions keep us connected to our pasts and have the ability to rustle up memories so vibrant their edges shimmer. These connections do not begin and end with laborious hours spent over a hot stove. They are in the chipped handme down coffee mugs, splintered roux spoons and cookbooks so well loved their spines are cracked and their pages are stained. That is the spirit with which we approached this issue. We hope that these long-forgotten Cajun recipes and classic Southern cocktails take you back to your own family’s traditions.