You know, the whole point of my upcoming cookbook is to tell my story in an effort to invoke emotions at the table for the reader/cook. But duh, of course I want them to feel things while reading. My recipes aren’t exotic and new, so THAT is what will get them to turn the page.
And yet, I’m not sure I have anything on my shelf (short of the family collections) that make me feel alive while reading. Or actually, that’s not true. I can think of a couple but not a single recipe spoke to me in those books. It’s always been an either or.
I love this insight, Maggie! It’s funny, but paying attention to how recipes make me feel is something I didn’t think about for a long time. It’s not that I didn’t feel things about recipes… it’s that I didn’t factor that into the process of writing them. Isn’t it crazy how sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to see??? I don’t think many recipe writers are thinking about this, to tell you the truth. But, you’re right - THAT is what will get them to turn the page. And buy the book. And talk about the book. and share the book.
This is lovely. I too have some cookbooks I keep because even if there are only a few recipes in them that I use there is a deep connection to the book due to people or setting.
The most gratifying part of developing a new product (Essential Douglas Fir Shortbread which we wholesaled to Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor) was tweaking the dry ingredients, butter and essential oils, each time noticing the tiny distinctions. On the 7th iteration, we knew we had it.
I loved overseeing the evolution of that recipe. Sarah Masoni at the Food Innovation Center at Oregon State University said, “You’ve created your own kind of shortbread.” It wasn’t until that moment that I realized she was right.
I loved that process and the aha moment that followed. I went on to create Essential Lemon Zest and Essential Rosemary Mint.
They’re unpublished, but not for long.
Improving how I infuse myself into what I bake and cook is a skill I’d like to develop.
I love how you phrased that… infusing yourself into the recipes you create. Because, of course, you’re already in there. But, writing it so that your readers really get it, that’s tricky. And often overlooked. I didn’t think about it at all for years.
I wish, so much, that I was closer to you because I am dying for a taste of that shortbread. I’m glad you said the recipes are coming soon… baking it for myself won’t be the same as sitting at your table, but it’ll have to do. For now.
That’s really why I started writing my blog—to capture the memories, meaning and stories associated with food. It kind of started with a stained recipe notebook I inherited from my mother and morphed from there. Sometimes I have to remind myself that some of my readers do want recipes— not just stories from my travels and life!
This is a very relevant part of my (recipe) writing and food experience! I believe that the most powerful recipes hold personal memories and that's what makes us feel connected to them. It could be that they come from someone else, often they do. Sometimes its the initial eating of them that holds some emotion. Other times, its the process and circumstances around which we make them. They might become part of the tapestry of our lives. This work as just as much psychological/emotional as it is about the senses. After all, the people who are reading our kinds of recipes are usually not eating to just survive. ;)
This workshop sounds like a great way to help food writers lean more into, and perhaps find, their voices. Wonderful work!
I love everything about the intention of a workshop like this. A recipe is never just how to make something to eat.
Yes!!!! I KNOW you understand.
You know, the whole point of my upcoming cookbook is to tell my story in an effort to invoke emotions at the table for the reader/cook. But duh, of course I want them to feel things while reading. My recipes aren’t exotic and new, so THAT is what will get them to turn the page.
And yet, I’m not sure I have anything on my shelf (short of the family collections) that make me feel alive while reading. Or actually, that’s not true. I can think of a couple but not a single recipe spoke to me in those books. It’s always been an either or.
All that to say, see you at the workshops!
I love this insight, Maggie! It’s funny, but paying attention to how recipes make me feel is something I didn’t think about for a long time. It’s not that I didn’t feel things about recipes… it’s that I didn’t factor that into the process of writing them. Isn’t it crazy how sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to see??? I don’t think many recipe writers are thinking about this, to tell you the truth. But, you’re right - THAT is what will get them to turn the page. And buy the book. And talk about the book. and share the book.
This is lovely. I too have some cookbooks I keep because even if there are only a few recipes in them that I use there is a deep connection to the book due to people or setting.
The most gratifying part of developing a new product (Essential Douglas Fir Shortbread which we wholesaled to Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor) was tweaking the dry ingredients, butter and essential oils, each time noticing the tiny distinctions. On the 7th iteration, we knew we had it.
I loved overseeing the evolution of that recipe. Sarah Masoni at the Food Innovation Center at Oregon State University said, “You’ve created your own kind of shortbread.” It wasn’t until that moment that I realized she was right.
I loved that process and the aha moment that followed. I went on to create Essential Lemon Zest and Essential Rosemary Mint.
They’re unpublished, but not for long.
Improving how I infuse myself into what I bake and cook is a skill I’d like to develop.
I love how you phrased that… infusing yourself into the recipes you create. Because, of course, you’re already in there. But, writing it so that your readers really get it, that’s tricky. And often overlooked. I didn’t think about it at all for years.
I wish, so much, that I was closer to you because I am dying for a taste of that shortbread. I’m glad you said the recipes are coming soon… baking it for myself won’t be the same as sitting at your table, but it’ll have to do. For now.
That’s really why I started writing my blog—to capture the memories, meaning and stories associated with food. It kind of started with a stained recipe notebook I inherited from my mother and morphed from there. Sometimes I have to remind myself that some of my readers do want recipes— not just stories from my travels and life!
Ha! I love this, Ruth!
Yes, it really is all about connection! So looking forward to this workshop!
This is a very relevant part of my (recipe) writing and food experience! I believe that the most powerful recipes hold personal memories and that's what makes us feel connected to them. It could be that they come from someone else, often they do. Sometimes its the initial eating of them that holds some emotion. Other times, its the process and circumstances around which we make them. They might become part of the tapestry of our lives. This work as just as much psychological/emotional as it is about the senses. After all, the people who are reading our kinds of recipes are usually not eating to just survive. ;)
This workshop sounds like a great way to help food writers lean more into, and perhaps find, their voices. Wonderful work!
Yes! The recipes we write are about much more than sustenance. So true!
Am I reading the days incorrectly? Wednesday or Thursday?
I see in Write-Up that it’s Thursday. I have a conflict. Is it possible to purchase the replay?
Hi! Yes! The class will be recorded and available for purchase (at half price) with a week of its completion.