Old Recipes

Today I was looking for a recipe in anticipation of company next week. I am carefully stocking up on the ingredients that are commonly found in many Western kitchens this time of year:

Cream cheese
Sour cream
Holiday spices (I am out of Cinnamon? What? Perish the thought!)
Pumpkin
MORE butter…

…Frank’s Red Hot (I like a little kick, don’t you?)

and on and on…

What recipe I was searching for and what ingredients I was noting to buy are not important here. What I realized today is that I held in my hands the magic of other women (and one or two men). I held their recipes for success, for comfort, for joy, for celebration. I held some recipes that were stained from multiple use. I drifted through others copied by my own hand many, many years ago when I still drew little circles over i’s instead of capping them with a simple dot. Some recipes simply said “Mom’s pie crust” which is now my crust and every bit just as good. I touched the recipes of people who were no longer in my life, but are still in my heart. I read my own earliest recipes I used over and over when I had more pennies than dollars, often accompanied by a grocery list in the margin and ballpark ingredient prices.

I have a stack of old index cards, sheets of notepaper with handwritten notes, and even photocopied recipes. I wondered for a moment if I should make it a side project to type everything up, order it neatly on my laptop, print off a nice clean copy, and tuck those recipes into a binder before placing with the growing stack of cookbooks in the corner.

And I was really was tempted… but then I looked at those recipes… the distinctive swish! of a former employer’s decisive cursive, the careful printing from an old friend I haven’t seen in years… my mother’s email with instructions to read the entire recipe for pumpkin bread first before starting the baking. Their energies and intentions are in those recipes. And I want to keep those energies in my kitchen. I want to continue them.

I still might buy a binder to better hold and care for those recipes, but I have decided to keep the papers and note cards just as they are now: some stained from cooking dinners and desserts of the past, some containing my handwritten notes in page corners, some creased from multiple folds over the years, and all full of the love and energy of the people who brought them into my life.

May you know the joy of collecting many recipes from other kitchens and enjoy all those wonderful energies that make our kitchens so magic.

The Ritual of Cooking Together

You don’t have to don robes and dance in a circle with your significant other to experience the magick of a loving ritual. You do not have to check whether the Moon is waxing or if She is talking to Venus in order to have a tender hour in the kitchen preparing food for dinner. You don’t have to go out of your way, or engage in activities that don’t mesh well with your busy schedule in order to call Aphrodite to bless your union. Kitchen witchery makes it easy to turn a mundane activity into something magickal.

Tonight Jack and I worked side by side in our kitchen, unplanned, but contentedly. While I whipped up dinner (a salad and spinach ravioli with vodka-enhanced tomato sauce), he sliced, diced, and simmered a beef barley soup. (The soup will serve as several wonderful lunches over the next few days.) Our conversation weaved itself into the aroma of sautéing beef and Rosemary, and danced alongside the roil of the water’s boil before I added the handmade ravioli. (Alas, my dear reader, I did not make the ravioli. We are fortunate to have a little shoppe that specializes in handmade ravioli and sauce – the best I have ever known. A good Witch knows when to use the better handiwork of another!)

The magick we created stemmed from the energy of our actions, our intentions, our friendly words, our attentions, and our desires (for food and for each other's happiness and success). This magick grew in our kitchen and empowered our food. We served up helpings of happiness and satisfaction as we shared our observations of the day. Upon completion of our meal, we agreed that dinner was wonderful and the scent of the beef barley soup is still filling our home with strong positive energy. We will experience that magick this week during lunch, whether it’s in on a campus several miles away (Jack), or in a cozy home office as one glues herself to her laptop for the afternoon (that would be me).

As I have said many times, kitchen witchery is natural, and so is the love that stretches between two committed individuals cooking together as the January evening settles across the hearth. Consider taking some time with your loved one. Experience the magick of making a meal together.