The Mate and I have been downsizing again. You know. All those boxes that we decided to keep and store, the last time we downsized,10 years ago. Did they somehow go forth and multiply while we had our backs turned?
Among these boxes are old cookbooks, ones I swore I couldn’t part with 10 years ago. But have I used them in the last 10 years? Course not. So, into the boxes with them.
That part wasn’t too hard. But then I discovered the handwritten recipes.
Specifically, I found Aunt Erma’s recipe for fish chowder. Aunt Erma died 14 years ago, at the age of 90. She wasn’t my aunt, being on the Mate’s side, and she wasn’t actually even his—more of a cousin. First, once removed? Second? In truth, though, she was more of his adopted mom. Aunt Erma lived in a small hamlet near Gloucester, MA. She was a widely-renowned artist, and a wonderful cook. And her fish chowder was LEGENDARY.
Guess what recipe I found, in Erma’s handwriting?
It even includes illustrations!
In case you’re wondering, yes–I can actually read her handwriting. But the recipe’s become less legible over the years. Last time I made it, I simply modified an Internet recipe, Erma-style, by adding more butter. The point is not the exact recipe, of course. The point is the memories conjured by that loopy scrawl, that attention to detail, the voice I can almost hear as she transcribes her kitchen magic. She’d be making sure we had some good crusty bread to eat with our chowder. And of course she’d be warning us not to forget to pre-heat the bowls, whatever we do.
So I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do with Erma’s fish chowder recipe. I guess since I’ve taken its picture and blogged about it, maybe it’s time to let the actual papers find their way into our wood stove. Maybe I’ll think about it for the next 10 years.
But I do know one thing: right now, I want to cook me some fish chowder. With extra butter, and pre-warmed bowls.
Speaking of old family recipes, handwritten or otherwise…now would be a great time and place to share one!
I love this story and the image of the handwritten recipe. I have one from my husband’s grandma (Martha) for congo bars (also known as blonde brownies, basically chocolate chip cookie bars). I’m away from home, so I can’t share it here, but I can visualize her butter-soaked script.
I think I transcribed the recipe to a “Recipes” computer file, but I’m still hanging on to this copy Martha wrote for me. Both of my kids loved those bars, and I suspect one or both of them would treasure the recipe written by hand.
Yes! There is just something about that tactile connection, right? Thanks, Iris.