1 hour ago
Sunday, January 24
I went browsing at the local "antique mall," which is actually more a jumble sale/junk shop/grandma's garage sort of place. It's the kind of cavernous store where people rent booths and can put anything out for sale, as long as it's vintage, with "vintage" defined as over a year old. And it's the kind of place where the farther back you go in the store, the darker the lighting, and the more peculiar, dusty, and sad the displays. I keep to the front.
And right there on a chipped enamel table by the front window, if you wedge yourself through a gap between a giant washboard and a big piece of oilfield machinery, is a box with many baggies filled with recipe cards and clippings from a variety of cooks. And these are old recipes, dearies. Many are credited to other people, most of them using the form "from Mrs. Clarence Simmons" - women referred to by their husband's name.
What fun! I'm rubbing my hands together like a pleased mouse. These are going to be enjoyable to read and sort. Already I spied a pencil-written recipe for Best Beet Salad, on a card gone tan with age, and another for Apple Conserve.
There's a short recipe on a scrap of old paper for Dumplings, and one for Lemon Chess Pie.
I see some mimeographed paper, too, barely legible, with the once-vibrant purple ink now a delicate lilac shade.
One thing stands out: People were not as picky, and people had lovely cursive handwriting.
If any of these are keepers, I'll pass them on to you.
Thank'ee for stopping by.