I've been stuffing clippings into this box too, and haven't had much of a chance to go through it. It was supposed to be a family movie night, but I turned out to be a missing member. I was settled into the kitchen, going through the plethora of paper, among other things. Things such as a commemorative pin of Pope John Paul the II. Or, a photo of my Uncle Ben as an adorably chubby two year old. It was sincerely overwhelming.
I looked at my own recipes, not expecting any nostalgia, but it was there anyway. A recipe for spicy pecans that I used to woo Aaron with when we were just starting out. My Magic Pretzels that have become a Christmas Gift tradition. Baby food recipes from when Claudia was refusing to eat with a spoon.
One of the greatest gifts I ever received was a handwritten book of recipes from a friend. She spent hours going through her own favourites to make them into my own, no doubt enduring finger blisters along the way. There is something so special about seeing a recipe written out by its owner. Oily finger prints and splatters of batter make them even more so.
The recipe from above is for Krusta, a flaky fried cookie that gets dusted with icing sugar. The only word I understand in there is Wudky - which is Vodka. But, I know the recipe all too well, having spent many years by Babcia's side, helping her make it. I knew that she trusted me as a cook when she let me roll the cookies out to an appropriate thickness and fry them until they were perfect. It's a good memory.