Over the years I have amassed quite a cookbook collection, and when my Mom passed away, her extensive collection of cookbooks joined mine. There are many duplicates of our favorites, because through the years, if there was a book Mom liked, she got me a copy, and visa versa.
Years ago, when I mentioned that I had to get another bookcase, my dear friend Cindy asked why I didn’t just get rid of some of my books… although a practical suggestion, I was horrified, thinking that getting rid of my cookbooks was akin to getting rid of my children. I know. I’m crazy. But like my Mom, I not only use cookbooks for reference, I enjoy them! Yes, of course, you can now get any recipe you want at the touch of a keyboard. There are zillions of recipes out there. But I take great pleasure in thumbing through the pages, seeing the pictures, getting inspiration, and scanning the recipes for interesting ingredients. I especially love it when I open up one of Mom’s books and find her lists of guests for parties, grocery lists, and menu ideas tucked between the pages.
Yes, it is an obsession, but I can think of worse!
As you can imagine, there are quite a number of vintage cookbooks on my shelves. In addition to my Mom’s early editions, there are a number of the very first books my Mom gave me when I started cooking.
Some are favorites that I turn to again and again for basic recipes, like sauces, crepes, and baked goods. My 1969 edition of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook is one of these. Believe it or not, it’s still available on Amazon along with the newest updated version.
As anyone who knows me will tell you, (including Nick Malgieri, my pastry teacher at The New York Restaurant School) I’m a cook, not a baker. All that necessary measuring makes me manic. And what makes it worse, is that we never really ate sweets in our home growing up, the exception being our wonderful friend Nancy’s very special cookies, and my great Aunt Lucy’s recipe for birthday cake.
I grew up without a sweet tooth, but as I’m now in my dotage, I find myself with cravings, especially in the evenings, for a brownie, cookie, or sweet creamy pudding.
One of the sweets I’ve always loved is shortbread… you know, the one that comes in those red plaid tins… maybe because it’s not too sweet. I only allow myself the small tin, because once I taste that melt-in-your-mouth biscuit, a spell comes over me and I lose all control. Before you know it, (if I can’t muster up enough strength) the tin is empty. It is even more difficult if I’m enjoying a hot cup of Earl Grey at the same time.
I’ve always wanted to make my own shortbread, but I hesitate. This week, I decided to take the plunge…
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