cookbooks

This post is being dedicated to my dear mom, from whom I got my love of feeding people and the extravagance of being a collector of cookbooks. Mom would smile knowing my bookshelves are overflowing just as hers were.

Like my dear mother before me, I enjoy leafing through a cookbook while in my favourite chair, poring over the images, the stories, and imagining how I would serve these dishes and to whom. I can be quite nostalgic about cookbooks, especially those that my mother used or that were gifted to me. My cookbooks possess character in their appearance. Some demonstrate wear on their spines, all contain notes on selected pages or in the margins of the index, and oft-made recipes bear remains of splatters from sitting ‘ringside’ during the creation process. I’ve developed a relationship with each of the books, trusting in our experiences together over the years.

Many years ago in the New Yorker magazine, Bee Wilson wrote, “The Oxford English Dictionary defines fiction as literature “concerned with the narration of imaginary events.” This is what recipes are: stories of pretend meals.” No wonder my mother and I, and likely some of you, can pore over recipe books like a child reading under the covers with a flashlight. It can be irresistible to delve into the stories within our favourite cookbooks.

Realizing that these days, with so many people living rushed lives, and the ease of use of our favourite search engine, a quick search unlocks a treasure trove of ideas and recipes. I’ve come to utilize that search engine more than I may like to admit, especially given my fondness for browsing through my collection of cookbooks.

Over the decades, cookbooks have changed considerably from those that were recipes with instruction and technique to those that now also include a highly visual component as well as story or narrative and sometimes a travelogue. In fact, many modern-day cookbooks have similarities to modern television in that today’s readers are drawn to cookbooks where the author’s voice comes through. Their voice may be fun, often conversational, or it may be more formal, but the reader wants the voice to be authentic.

Those things matter for me too. But, what matters even more for me is a cookbook about eating and sharing as much as it is about cooking. I gravitate to cookbooks about cooking for friends—and eating with friends.

Using cookbooks takes us out of our comfort zone allowing us to experiment with something new or different. This way, we increase our tastes and cooking skills. A cookbook is a passport to new foods, new combinations, new techniques. The tangible pleasures of preparing a new dish or meal are uniquely rewarding.

I’m glad Joshua Raff feels as he does because I could easily have said exactly the same thing:

“So while I still turn to cookbooks for recipes and cooking ideas and instruction, and treasure the sense of discovery that all great cookbooks seem to convey, there is no better souvenir of a trip to a wonderful place, or birthday present, or armchair vacation, than a cookbook with a voice that touches me, drawings or photographs that express and amplify the beauty of the food, describe the culture and food’s place in it, the people who grow it, who make it, and who eat it. And that explores the experience of eating as a communal act.” — Joshua Raff

So now, you’re probably asking yourself, what are my favourite cookbooks? Or, at least, the ones I go-to as I prep for a nice dinner party or other special occasion? Since this would become far too long by answering that question, the answer will have to remain in a separate blog post of its own.

So tell me, do you still use cookbooks? Or, are you a search engine recipe hunter?