Two and half years ago, I inherited my mum's two thick books full of recipes. The first one is called "Salty" and overflows with recipes for salty goodness. The other, the "Sweet", consists tens, rather hundreds of recipes for various desserts. Just before the Advent is coming, I suppose it is the time to open my Sweet book again. Well, the first moments are overwhelming. The book still keeps the aroma of my mom's kitchen, of the times when I was her restless little helper.
I have to skip the newer recipes which are not spectacular at all: just printed e-mails or recipes from webpages. The interesting part starts from about 1996. There is a recipe on the reverse side of a telefax. Somebody asks there about possibility to transport a machine (4.800 kg) from Hamburg to Zimbabwe. On the other side my mom wrote by hand a recipe for "the best Tiramisu". Some of the recipes are written by my mom's hand, some are from her friends and collegues, some are just carbon paper copies with a hand written note like "must be eaten warm" or "11.2.1975".
The oldest one is written by my grandmother. Look at it: "we spread coconut flour on a greaseproof paper..."
There is also one short notice written by me. Seven years old, I was on the phone in our hallway and my grandma dictated me a recipe for my mum...
Oh goodness. So warm. I feel like my mom is back again. Welcome, Advent!