I read Linda Matchen's article "Recipes Infused with Time" in the Globe today. Lovely article about using recipes that live on tattered pieces of paper and are barely legible, passed down by family and friends. Ms Matchen discusses her resistance to typing them into electronic documents because they would lose their special quality and the connections she feels when she handles them. As is often the case, the now-ubiquitous "Comments()" that follow an article capture my attention either because they enrich the message of the writer, but more often because they serve as a portal though which the confused, bizarre, sometimes hateful, but always entertaining words of the masses flow.
For this article I expected comments on similar experiences, connections to loved ones, maybe a recipe or twelve, but I was quite surprised (silly Pollyanna) at a highly critical comment that pointed out that these recipes were unhealthy (recipes were not included), didn't include precise amounts, and (oh no!) sometimes contained ingredients that are hard to find. He/she went on to vilify the coddling of pieces of oil stained paper, recommended scanning, and wondered how we have survived as a people. Et cetera.
Now, I agree that preserving these precious memories via technology is a wonderful idea, and adding our own recipes is what it is all about - building and enriching family traditions.
But there is nothing in the realm of family cooking - absolutely nothing - that comes close to holding in my hand the original recipe, the one with the smudge from mama's fingers and the splatter of a batter gone wild 60 years ago. For the sentimental among us, these tattered and stained treasures taken out and handled so rarely, carry with them the love and labors of those who loved us into existence.
I'm grateful that I can scan the words into somewhat permanent form and share these techno-docs with others, but when I handle my grandmother's recipe scraps I feel her hand in mine. As will my daughters when the time comes.
So one question: would you find a photo of the Declaration of Independence a satisfactory substitute for seeing the document itself, and the handwritten signatures and ink blotches on the very paper used by those who wrote it? Don't get me wrong, I'm not comparing Nana's mandelbrot with the Declaration of Independence, but I'm just saying...
But there is nothing in the realm of family cooking - absolutely nothing - that comes close to holding in my hand the original recipe, the one with the smudge from mama's fingers and the splatter of a batter gone wild 60 years ago. For the sentimental among us, these tattered and stained treasures taken out and handled so rarely, carry with them the love and labors of those who loved us into existence.
I'm grateful that I can scan the words into somewhat permanent form and share these techno-docs with others, but when I handle my grandmother's recipe scraps I feel her hand in mine. As will my daughters when the time comes.
So one question: would you find a photo of the Declaration of Independence a satisfactory substitute for seeing the document itself, and the handwritten signatures and ink blotches on the very paper used by those who wrote it? Don't get me wrong, I'm not comparing Nana's mandelbrot with the Declaration of Independence, but I'm just saying...
