Behind every beautiful piece of food prose is a writer just trying to get the words down. What does your desk look like? Whichever you choose, add a quick line at the bottom:

Drop a GIF to describe your weekend. And ... go!

For any reason. The flavors, the colors, the presentations or was it just an ingredient that ruined it for you? For me: Durian Ice cream. Tried it a decade ago and still get the ick. Someone else told me that most places don't leave chunks in it and when it is blended that flavor isn't as strong, but I am not willing to try it again. Also Bread Tea. The flavor, the texture-no. I've been following eye spy antiques and b dylan holis for a while now. https://www.facebook.com/reel/1438744266789634

OK. I have not started on the classes yet and I will. BUT I have a question: How many were taught to cook by watching? Does that make it more difficult to write them out? My grandmother Josie (1917-2010) taught me by showing me, but she also told stories/tea during it that set the cooking times and sometimes had a substitution to the recipes in it. So last week I was making this dish for a friend and I told her the following as I prepared it. Would writing it like this in a cookbook then followed by the formal recipe work for people? or does this need to be removed? My Grandmother Josie her Grandmother Camellia made Zucchini & Prosciutto roll ups and would add minced dates & sultanas in them. So as we would make them my Grandmother would take the cleaver and demonstrate how her Grandmother would pulverize them into tiny flakes while saying the Hail Mary prayer then sprinkle them in with a baby spoon like a queen offering favors. My grandmother would then say that her mother, Providencia, hated the dates, and loved the sultanas, but since sultanas made Salvadore (her husband) act sinfully she would roll Frantoio olives in sugar (and my grandmother would demonstrate this) chop them with a cleaver & pulverize them with a masher muttering "Avrei dovuto dare ascolto al tuo avvertimento." three times before adding them in. My Grandmother Josie said that American stomachs are stupid & don't deserve sultanas, dates or Frantoio, so she adds enough capers to fill the bottom of a tea cup and smash each one with a fork so all the liquid comes out while saying the name of that boss that makes you uncomfortable. Then you scrape it into the bottom of the pan to be buried by the sauce and the roll ups. Finally you bake it in the oven for as long as it takes to swig wine from the bottle while chanting the "Our Father" prayer in Latin, then cleaning up the kitchen and setting the plates. Roughly 35 minutes. Camellia's had a somewhat sweet/sour taste. Providencia's was fruity & bitter.

Have you had that fleeting daydream while standing over a simmering pot or flipping through a gorgeous food magazine: “If I wrote a cookbook, it would look exactly like this.” A cookbook isn't just a collection of ingredients; it’s your culinary worldview bound in print. Whether it’s a love letter to your heritage, a manifesto on minimal effort, or a celebration of late-night cravings, every author has a distinct signature flavour. If you were to see your name on a spine on a bookstore shelf, which of these themes speaks to your soul? What happens next? Once you've cast your vote, drop a comment below and pitch us your working title! Even if it's just a wild idea you thought of five minutes ago, let's hear what kind of magic you're cooking up. Cast Your Vote: