Being Blog

67/100 || Over the last handful of years I have been collecting recipes in Pinterest – storing them there for when I might need the just-right recipe for a who-knows-what occasion. For the most part it serves its purpose and can be a convenient way to keep ideas in one place. But, this past Friday when I was hosting a dinner I decided that instead of turning to an online recipe, I would pull out a cookbook. It isn’t anything too wild or novel, but in doing so, I realized just how long it had been since I cooked something out of an old-school, regular ol’ cookbook. Oddly, it did feel playful and rather refreshing. It made me think about my grandmother, an amazing cook, who used cookbooks – my parents still have her favorite one. I love being able to think about her leafing through the pages and looking at the very same recipes that she looked at to cook for the people she loved. I love seeing her handwriting in the margins and knowing that it was there next to her as she created deliciousness for all of us to enjoy. That is not something you can get from an online recipe. It does not hold the same heart or connection. Taking the time to leaf through the pages and find a recipe that would work, was playful in itself. Just slowing down the process and really being present in the action of choosing, reading, and cooking connected me to both my grandmother’s spirit and the moment. 🌻