[2023-04-26] Preserving memories through recipes
As I shared in Who we are, I recently took part in an online workshop about how recipes preserve memories.
I loved hearing the stories of the other women who participated in the workshop. They spoke of recipes that turned ordinary ingredients into comfort food, rituals involving time spent cooking with parents and children, attempts to recreate family classics passed down through generations, efforts to maintain cooking traditions, and stories centred around food.
I shared my own story of a simple dessert my mother used to make called Buns on the Stove. This was a humble offering made from staples such as flour, brown sugar, butter and milk. It was borne out of the necessity for a quick dessert that could be cooked on top of the stove. When my mom hadn't the time to bake a cake in the oven, she would make Buns on the Stove. We could whip it up in 10 minutes, and it would cook while we ate our dinner. In the workshop, I remarked on how many of the stories involved turning inexpensive ingredients into family favourites, like our 60-year-old recipe for Buns on the Stove.
When I was in my mid-teens, I collected recipes, copying them from recipe books borrowed from my high school library or clipping them from magazines. I used recipe cards or computer punch cards that a classmate in high school would give to me. I stored these cards in a wooden box that one of my brothers had made in shop class. I kept that box for years, well into my adult life. I wish I still had it today, and not simply a grainy photo of it.
Some of the recipes from that time period, some 40 years ago, stayed with me, finding their way into our official recipe file. They're simple fare, reflective of what was popular in that era (Raspberry Dream Bars were always a hit at church gatherings), what was economical (Chicken Caruso used leftover chicken or turkey) and my interests at that moment (Nutritious Muffins called for wholesome ingredients).
Among the questions posed by the leader of the workshop on recipes and memories was this one: "How important is it for you to pass on your recipes?" As food is my love language and one of my priorities, I want to pass my recipes on to my children. It probably comes as no surprise that, as a writer, my recipes are well documented and organized. No oral tradition here. Any recipe that proves to be a 10 goes in the official recipe file, which we affectionately call "the book" (as in, "this one is definitely for the book").
My recipes leave nothing to the imagination. I cook like a scientist, noting precise quantities of ingredients as much as possible so that both I and someone using my recipe can reproduce it faithfully. As I tweak recipes (to be more in line with our eating habits of the day, such as consuming less sugar, salt and saturated fat), I make adjustments to the paper copy as well as the electronic file.
My son and daughter take after me, following recipes quite closely. My husband, on the other hand, is more of an artist, using recipes as an inspiration rather than a model. As a result, Chris' Caesar salad dressing has deviated from the official recipe over the years. When Shane started making Caesar salad at his own place, following the original recipe, we all loved the dressing—even Chris.
Preserving memories through recipes feeds the soul, just as the food resulting from following those recipes feeds the body.
