I don’t follow recipes. Why then you might ask, “Do you have so many cookbooks?” Fair question.
Cookbooks are for me narratives, sometimes exotic, sometimes familiar, always poetic.
Here is a fantastic example, from Bangkok: Recipes and stories from the Heart of Thailand by Leela Punyaratabandhu:
My great-grand parents always greeted guests with a silver bowl of cold water – not from the fridge but from a terra-cotta jar that was used to store filtered rainwater. Just one sip of that water would leave guests wondering how my great-grandmother had fit their whole garden of tropical blossoms into a single bowl.
How beautiful and elegant an offering! A whole garden in a sip. This description introduces a recipe for Flower-scented water.
Granted not all books are so lush in exotic imagery soaked in rain and flower-scented. However, even the most down to earth, undesigned community or family cookbooks that list ingredients and command us to, mix, retain a hidden narrative of efficiency, a love language of service.
I may never gently float fragrant freshly blooming flowers like jasmines, roses, ylang-ylang in 12 cups of boiled tap water. But isn’t the idea that is so real and possible, beautiful?
Definitely Thai for dinner tonight served with dreams of flower-scented water.
What dreams will you serve with your dinner tonight?
2 thoughts on “I don’t follow recipes: I love Cookbooks”
Whenever I find it from the move, I’ll show you the recipe box from my Great Aunt’s house. It’s full of what looks mostly like grocery lists of ingredients for all the foods she liked to cook.
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Hahahaaaa….I love that! I’m going to start saving my grocery lists! And lists of what I like to cook, restaurants I like to go to, etc. Yay for lists!