I keep my most valuable cookbook in a Ziploc bag.
Not kidding. It used to be a binder of recipes, but the pages started falling apart from years of butter, flour, and cinnamon sugar. Some are written in my handwriting. Some are in my mother’s handwriting, because she gave it to me as my first cookbook. Now my kids have started asking for the recipes. But they don’t want copies. They want the original pages. Apparently the stains are part of the recipe. And that got me thinking about something I see constantly in my work. People say relationships are complicated. But often what’s missing isn’t therapy or grand gestures. It’s the simple rituals. Cooking together. Making a mess in the kitchen. Passing down recipes. Sharing food that actually means something. Food has been building connection in relationships for hundreds of years. Which is exactly what my community is about. If you love cooking, relationships, and the idea that connection can be built around a kitchen counter, you might enjoy it. Come join us here