This past Saturday, as I sat on my yoga mat beneath a Sycamore tree, two very dear friends and I began speaking of cooking. I always enjoy a fresh perspective on certain topics, and cooking is certainly one such topic, but what I find interesting is that we shifted into a discussion about recipe sharing. Now, I have written about this before (found here) but I find it worthy of another post.
Plainly asked, do you share your recipes? How exactly do you reply? Did you give the excuse that you’re honor-bound to never give it out? Were you sworn to secrecy and read-in at the highest level of clearance? Did Grandma threaten you with family expulsion if you uttered a syllable? Or, perhaps you handed it over lovingly, gratefully, and willingly? Regardless, there is a problem amongst us when it comes to recipe requests.
When I last wrote of this topic I had numerous comments, but after which I also had requests that I delete comments after the fact, for someone feared family retribution for her honest reply, having been refused a “family recipe” from a family she belonged to! I was stunned.
As we discussed various aspects of Give or Give Not, one realization was made by my dearest friend (you know who you are, do you appreciate anonymity?): Is it possible, that when you have just delighted someone with your cooking prowess, and the subsequent recipe request ensues, that you refuse the recipe for fear that the requester might not return again for more? That is, if you hand over the recipe your friend and/or family member will not return to your home and praise your cooking again? Or praise your recipe again? Or still be your friend? Shall I keep going? Is it possible that when someone asks for a recipe, we fear that the friend will never return to us, having no more need for us?
I have been refused recipes, and many times over, yet one in particular stands out and I have relived the memory as a result of Saturday’s discussion. This person was such a dear friend, and for my part still is, but it caused a shift. I was so thoroughly delighted with the food my friend had cooked for me that I wanted to learn to cook it myself, but needed a recipe and some guidance, so I asked. When I was refused, I sought out another recipe, and was given this recipe from an authentic source. I tried and failed, but I kept at it and eventually succeeded and was eager to share it with my friend, seeking his advice and input. He refused to eat it and was angry for my going elsewhere for help. These are just words on a blog, from a person you likely don’t know, but when I say I cook with love, I mean it. I love to share what I make, and I love and appreciate an honest opinion about what I feed others. I never seek to overpower or to belittle, only ever wanting to further my skills and feed my passion to cook. I miss you, my friend, and would love to cook with you again one day.
I offer my thoughts today with the hope to inspire you to study what causes you to refuse a recipe, or to think about the one who might deny you. After applying some thought, I believe there is a deeper reason, often just beneath the surface, that causes the recipe two-step. So when denied a recipe, offer a smile and perhaps a hug, same for when you're given the recipe; for love is truly the only ingredient ever needed, but often the one missing. And as always, let me know if there’s a recipe I have that you’d like and it’s yours.
I was the person who my grandmother took aside and showed how to make her two most special recipes. Things that only came out at holiday time. And then only those winter holidays associated with food.
ReplyDeleteAfter she passed away I have taken great delight in sharing both the recipes and the how to's to several family members who are happy to have such a tangible way to remember my grandmother. And I haven't been struck by lightening, so it must be OK.
I had the most remarkable brownies one time and I asked for the recipe and was denied. Because she was going to write a cookbook or start a bakery or something and didn't want her recipe to be out there in the world. As of yet, there has been no cookbook and no bakery and we've parted ways. I often thing the beginning of the parting of the ways was when she wouldn't share her recipe.
Maybe I am wrong here, but it seems to be that when I have been in this situation it is because there is a fear that you (the one asking for the recipe) may in fact make it better than the one who gave it to you. I have seen this happen on several occasions. Maybe someone isn't a great cook, but they can make ONE thing remarkably well. They get great praise for their amazing brownies or their out-of-this-world cheesecake, or what have you. I think sometimes there is almost an insecurity that comes with handing over a recipe. If someone else makes it better than I do, how will I stand out anymore? I will no longer be the one who makes the amazing brownies, but the one makes okay brownies, second to the person who surpassed you. I truly think that it has very little to do with the recipe itself, and more to do with the unknown future. I could be waaaaayyy out in left field, but I believe that this is really at the heart of most of it. I think there is a certain pride, even if unknowingly, that comes with being known as the person who makes the best ______________ and I don't think people are generally to anxious to give that up.
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