It might be quickest to “Google” a recipe, but no screen-display carries the meaning we find in a recipe card marked “Aunt Clara’s Cocktail Crisps”.
That card brings with it special memories of the proud farmer and grandmother who expressed her best self through the food she served. I recall, having given a 5-year-old great granddaughter a blank paged “recipe book”, watching the younger pretend she was writing Granny’s recipe down while Granny was doing the baking. First class mentoring.
Shortly after a new Nursing Home was built in our region, the Activities Coordinator invited all the residents to submit a favorite recipe so they could produce a cook book. What a treasure! A name and brief biographical note accompanied each submission. But even more, it was a wonderful reflection of the multicultural nature of the region: Ukrainian porgies, Hungarian cabbage rolls, Scottish oatcakes, Irish stew … The one I particularly enjoyed was from an old bachelor on “Turkey Sandwiches”. It started with “First you get a turkey. Then you cook it …”
When a neighbour’s house burnt down one winter while they were away, the ladies thought about their loss of family-favorite recipes and pictures. The women went through their own collections to make copies of the afflicted family’s favorite family recipes and family pictures. We all shed tears as those treasures were presented.
“Google” can pretend it’s “Aunt Anne’s …” but the memory of relationships formed and wisdom shared just isn’t there. “Vanity of vanities”, the Biblical Preacher might say in Ecclesiastes. Like a puff of wind, anything less is so empty.
A cook book grace reads “Lord, we are mindful that this food has already been blessed by sun, earth and rain. We gratefully pray that those hidden gifts of life be a source of strength and joy … as is your presence at this time.”