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.
Our mailbox |
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