|Cottonwood Butte in the distance|
No, it’s not what you think. I still have a ways to go before I finish the Halloween quilt. But on Monday (June 29), I finished entering my most used and/or cherished recipes on my iPad.
Perhaps you don’t understand just how momentous this occasion is. For years – years! – I’ve carried my recipes back and forth – from town to farm and back again – in a battered manila envelope, just not knowing how to deal with them in two places. Of course, pulling the cards from the recipe box caused the loss of whatever organization I had and left me searching through piles for specific recipes no matter where I was. (Sometimes I just used the internet. It’s amazing how well that works.)
|Blackberries in bloom behind mailbox|
Then, when I got the iPad two years ago, I realized that this could be the answer to my recipe organizational woes, but I still didn’t step up to the task of entering them. The process seemed really cumbersome – lots of recipes on cards as well as scribblings on notepaper, print-outs, and pages from magazines. I did transfer some recipes, but lacking method, the process just became more difficult.
|Hawthorn berries in the lane|
But not any more. It’s amazing how a day comes and one tackles the problem. Recipes were entered quickly. Decisions were made. Scribbles were tossed while cards were sorted into piles for re-filing. (No, I won’t toss my original cards.)
And as I worked, I sometimes made notations about a recipe. Just who’s going to read it, I don’t know. If I were no longer available, say, would my daughter be able to access my recipes and read my notes? I think recipes are an important part of family history and hence the history of society in general. When I see my dad’s fudge recipe, I see him stirring away with a strong arm, then kneading and rolling the fudge. No, I’ll never use that recipe, but neither would I part with it.
Then there was that afternoon three years ago when I went through both Grandma Ina’s and Grandma Nina’s recipe boxes. If I hadn’t read them on the same day, I might not have discovered a common recipe – light crumb cake. Grandma Nina’s was correct, but Grandma Ina found her proportions off and made notations to correct it. Did Ina get the recipe from Nina? Did she call Nina and say, “That crumb cake just didn’t turn out like yours. What did I do wrong?” Or, maybe it was just a coincidence – a popular recipe of the day that appeared in both boxes. KW