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I’ve loved to cook and bake from the time that I was a little girl.  It’s both enjoyable and therapeutic for me, quickly dissipating all stress and anxiety.  I believe I learned this from my father who loved to experiment in the kitchen.  To my delight he would often let me watch and encourage me to join in the fun!

Some time before his death in 2002, my father came into posession of his mother’s old wooden recipe box.  It was filled with an ecclectic assortment of faded and mostly cryptic chicken scratchings.  Some of the recipes I understood; others I had no clue.  But they all intrigued me.

When my mother moved out of the house several years after Dad died, I found the box safely tucked away in the back of a spare bedroom closet and took the opportunity to grab it for myself. It may have said “recipes” on the front, but to me it was a treasure chest – a collection of old and faded scraps of paper, not only connecting me to my father, but also a possible link to my heritage.  I knew without a doubt that it was valuable to me; I just didn’t know exactly what to do with it.  And so I put it away …. again.

The box remained unopened until about a week ago.  As I do every Easter, I was making some cookies from a recipe that came over from Russia with my father’s family in the late 1800′s.  I began thinking about Grandma’s box and the recipes that it contained.  What kinds of treasures were hidden inside?  And then I began to wonder – what might I come away with … What would happen if I tried to make each recipe that the box contained, regardless of how cryptic or vague?   Right now at this moment, all I know is this:  That’s an adventure I want to be on!!

 

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