The value of recipe-related conversations

It’s not all about gathering lots of recipes and stories, the spark from a simple conversation can have value too

As is true in so much of life, sometimes the quieter, unanticipated, unplanned moments can have an impact that’s as big as those we’ve been striving to make happen.

That comes to mind a lot as I think about all the recipe-collection insights and suggestions I share, and my constant nudging about getting the stories, too. It’s an incredibly valuable and fulfilling pursuit: the heritage it represents, the connections we preserve, the legacy of recipes to be passed along for future generations.

But sometimes that feels like so much to be trying to accomplish, an important project that takes a lot of focus—possibly daunting. I worry sometimes that it can feel like too much, too big. Especially for those of us who love to just dive in deep and get going on an inspiring project such as that, before realizing quite how much we've bitten off. (Part of the coaching I want to start doing is to alleviate that stress by helping folks home in on one part of a collection to start with, take it in baby steps…a subject for another day.)

I also think of folks at the other end of the spectrum: those who feel that they have too little to work with, nothing of value to draw from, no significant culinary heritage or recipe treasures that merit any kind of attention. I want them to know there are other ways to engage on that topic, too.

As a counterpoint to those bigger projects with their significant goals, next time you're grabbing coffee or going on a walk with a friend, work in a chat about beloved recipes and food memories. Share a favorite childhood recipe you cooked recently and ask what childhood favorite comes to mind for them. Or, depending the time of year, ask about what dishes would always be sure to appear on the table for an upcoming holiday. Or what the first recipe is they remember learning as a kid.

In recent weeks, as I'm working on new efforts with my whole Long Live the Recipe Box focus, I've found myself contemplating the value of conversations that don't come with a specific outcome in mind. There is extraordinary value to be had in the stream-of-consciousness tumble of reflections that can result from an impromptu interaction, an informal chat about food and recipes and family and related memories. The kinds of engagements that may not add a new recipe to your collection or capture a story to preserve, but instead linger in your mind as a spark of inspiration to tap into later, a new appreciation for some aspect of our food-entwined lives you hadn't considered before, or perhaps it's just the pure and simple delight of connecting with a friend on a different level through shared food experiences.

A couple examples of the power a casual conversation about cherished recipes can have:

As I chatted a bit with a friend about the idea of recipes being connected to people and memories, a flash of recognition lit up her face. It brought to mind her go-to pancake recipe that she's turned to for many years, whenever a weekend morning calls for getting the griddle hot and the maple syrup out. She’d nearly forgotten about the source of that recipe: one of her 4-H leaders when she was in high school. She was thrilled to refresh that memory and said how happy she’ll be to think that 4-H leader now every time she makes those pancakes.

Another friend took inspiration from a similar conversation, with a determination to spend more time thinking about recipes from her family’s heritage to share with her kids. Her husband’s family has been in the restaurant business for many years, they naturally have been the source of many of the recipes they’ve been making often with their children. She planned to go through a notebook of recipes her father had put together for her, to choose some favorites to prepare and share with her kids.

One of my favorite examples is one I read in the introduction to the 1999 cookbook The Wisdom of the Chinese Kitchen: Classic Family Recipes for Celebration and Healing. There, celebrated author Grace Young wrote, “A remarkable chapter opened in my relationship with my parents when I began recording our family's culinary heritage.” She tells of how hard she had to work to get them to share stories about their approach to cooking and other food topics. And that they “stretched their memories to unearth stories and reclaim their forgotten past.” Only through these conversations did she learn, for example, that her father had once owned a restaurant in San Francisco's Chinatown in the 1940s.

I scrambled a bit to figure out an image or two to share here. From among my trove of photos, what could possibly reflect a casual conversation about food memories that unearths treasures we might not have learned about otherwise?

And then I found these, photos of a card my mom sent me a few decades ago. We’d gotten a new gas stove in our charming little Victorian house that had a really awful electric stove when we moved in—it felt like such a big deal at the time. She honored the occasion with this card and, as you can read, there are such beautiful and touching memories that unspool as she’s writing the note.

So it doesn’t even have to be a conversation! Maybe it takes the form of a card like my mom wrote, or a bunch of texts in the family group chat. Start a fun postcard exchange with a friend, swapping casual cooking memories, each providing a spark for the next to respond to.

Have some fun. Make it light and easy. Enjoy the moment and the connection. There is no telling what fabulous things might come of it.