I enjoy cooking and over the years have collected hundreds of cookbooks. But even with all my cookbooks I often resort to my faithful box and drawer of scraps of paper with recipes scribbled on them. It's quite a sight if I tumble them all out on the counter and paw through them in search of the recipe I have in mind. And I always end up going on a memory journey and could no more replace them than what my Mom could a few years ago when she tried and then sent me this poem about the event.
My Recipe Box
A little gray box, on a shelf up high,
Contained such clutter, 'twas weary to the eye,
Now down it will come, I decided one day,
To recopy the slips in an orderly way.
They all spilled out on the table for me,
What a rumpled heap, I'd end it you see
A stack of fresh cards and a brand new pen,
A nice comfy chair, I'm ready to begin.
"Custard Pie" read the first, from Emma my sis,
She lives far away, I'll have to keep this,
"Zook Cookies" yes, from my own Mother dear,
I'll treasure her handwriting on thru' the year
Now next came one with a big splotch of grease,
From my Aunt Malinda who is now deceased
I laid it aside with the tenderest care,
To throw it away would be most unfair.
Oh here's a pink card with a worn bent and twist,
That took place in baby John's chubby fist
He has grown tall now, is a Daddy too,
I'll just have to keep that one, wouldn't you?
A splatter on the edge of this big white sheet,
The hot drink son David invented so neat
Filling up fast was my little box gray,
But the stack of new cards untouched did stay.
Here's the mixture of crumbs, that tasted so good,
When used to fry fish as Mahlon oft would
Standing at the stove, cheeks red from the heat,
He'd fry two bowls full delectable treat!
Cheese Bars, cookies, and Angel Crust Pie,
Remind me so much of an era gone by
When daughter would work ambitiously late,
She'd try something new when expecting a date.
Bologna with garlic and spices for zest,
When done how Liz says is really the best
I'll keep her whole sheet with her greetings of cheer,
It will keep us in touch through out the next year.
Mom-in-law's method of planting of peas,
"Dessert" from dear Sarah our company to please
"Pickles" from Rosemary, far in the north,
Bring memories of old times, plenty of worth.
"Popcorn Balls" yes, with blue marker framin'
Made when Mom wasn't home by Ivan and Raymond
A whole pack of cards, in schoolboys hand printing,
By now my eyes through tears had been squinting.
By in-laws, aunts, cousins, and friends galore,
A box full of memories stuffed in by the score
Back up on the shelf, my precious small chest,
Just the way it is, is really the best!