Back when I first started this blog, I wrote about my relentless recipe collecting and a little thing I like to call My Book (pronounced Mah BOOOk; this is important, so get it right!). Last week I realized that I had been neglecting my recipe cataloguing—the stack of recipes ripped from magazines and printed from the internet started to take over a section of the kitchen counter—so I got out my tape and scissors and got to work.
My Book has now grown into three: the original is now for main courses and sides; one notebook holds recipes of appetizers, soups and salads; another is for desserts and sweets alone. I have a peculiar feeling of accomplishment that my recipe collection is growing so rapidly. I know that this is probably not something to be proud of. Most likely this is an early warning sign that I will one day end up with some compulsive hoarding illness, surrounded my many cats and volumes of recipes.
And yet, I am proud. I just hope I don’t end up on Intervention or some surreal BBC documentary.