Mom's Recipe Notebook
Do you recall a specific object or possession of your parents' that captured your fascination and sort of intimidation as a child? Pictured above, is one of mine: my mom's coveted recipes notebook.
She may disagree how important this book is. After all, she did use the back of it to keep score for the famed bridge games my parents played in the 90's. To me, however, this notebook is borderline sacred. Mostly because some of my most favorite childhood memories are tied directly to it.
The best recipe for baklava in the world? Check. The most amazing birthday cake? Check. How to make chocolate salami? (Yes, please, and check). Every memory I have of these foods plainly equals happiness.
So, I decided I should challenge myself for 2015 and attempt to go through this book and make all the recipes in it (my count is at about 50 - convenient, no?). I would love to capture what happens throughout the process too. There is a very good chance that a very good portion of those will go VERY poorly. Why you may ask?
My mom's handwriting - I can already tell, my reading skills of cursive Bulgarian are a bit outdated
My mom's directions - since she knows all of these recipes by heart, some key parts are conveniently missing
My mom's measurements - a typical measurement would call for a "packet of butter"... easy, right?! Also, my mom's version of a "cup" is tied to one very particular teacup we had when growing up which is not even close to what a measurement cup is in the US.
All in all, as you can tell, this is bound to be a TON of FUN. Of course, I can always give her a call and ask her, but where is the fun in that? Besides, the 8-hour time difference highly discourages such an effort.
Oh, I cannot wait! Happy 2015!!
PS: Sorry for stealing this, mom. At least it will prove for a fun read for you :)
A few months back, a co-worker of mine convinced me to join my company's Spartan Race team. He didn't talk it up much: he mentioned it's a long-ish run with a few fun obstacles. You know, no big deal. Something someone who runs as much as me should complete more than easily (read, you don't really need to train for it). Ha ha ha.