Books, Traditions & Recipes From The Heart
The Recipes We Pass Down and The Memories That Stay With Us
Wherever You Turn There Are Books
Wherever you turn in our home, you’ll find books. In fact, they’re in every room of our apartment - even the smallest one, just in case you’re wondering!
There’s a pile on my bedside table, another by the sofa at the foot of the bed and some perched carefully on the mantelpiece beneath the mirror.
In the kitchen I have cherished handwritten cookery books that belonged to my mum, neatly positioned between the breakfast bar and the hob, always within easy reach.
In the lounge, books spill beyond the shelves onto the coffee table and any other available surface that will hold them.
Yes - I readily admit that I am a bibliophile!
My kids, if they read at all - one of them willingly does, the other one, not so much - prefer to do so on their devices. My other half says that after a spending a long day reading files at the office, he has absolutely no interest in picking up a book when he gets home.
I get it - I really do - but for me, books are a source of comfort and amongst those standing proudly on our bookshelves are books my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents once read.
When I hold these books in my hands and turn their fragile pages, I feel a deep connection to them and to the past. That connection brings with it a unique sense of belonging, especially with those books that hold recipes and cherished memories of family traditions.
Some people have no patience for sentimentality, but I do - and I'm not embarrassed to say so
Why Books Hold More Than Words
I’ve always loved surrounding myself with books and I can happily while away hours in bookshops and libraries, particularly the ones that hold books long forgotten about. I find peace and a sense of calm in getting lost amongst the pages.
"In Japanese, Tsundoku refers to the act of collecting books and letting them accumulate, not as a result of neglect but rather a source of joy and anticipation, knowing that they hold untold stories waiting to be discovered"
Without realising it, I've been practicing Tsundoku my entire life.
The smell of old pages is something I especially can’t resist. It’s a scent steeped in nostalgia, evoking forgotten times, and when I breathe it in I’m carried back through the years, half convinced I belong to another generation.
Rachel Kinnaird founder of A Gentle Disruption recently introduced me to the word that's been given to that comforting smell - bibliosmia. The word originates from the Greek words 'biblio' (book) and 'osmia' (smell) and was coined by English lecturer and author Oliver Tearle to describes the scent caused by the chemical breakdown of compounds within the paper.
You can purchase candles that capture the scent of old books. I can't resist them. So far, I have at least three.
Bibliosmia isn't just about nostalgia. It's a doorway to the past where the stories of our ancestors are waiting patiently between the lines. The thought of the books in my collection one day passing to someone who doesn’t appreciate them as I do, deeply saddens me.
The Shift From Books To Screens and Why Reading Matters
As our world becomes ever more digital, I can’t help but notice how reading habits, and the simple joy books bring, are changing.
I was a relentless reader as a child. I always had a book on the go and would often read under the covers with a torch after lights out. I still have some of those books from my childhood tucked away.
Whilst I don’t have the time to read as often as I’d like to these days, I struggle to understand why my children aren’t as drawn to books in the same way. I remind them that they have the privilege of knowledge at their fingertips and hours to shape their imagination as they delve into the pages, yet I feel I’m fighting a losing battle.
Through books you can explore history, culture and even culinary traditions. Everything seems to run on devices these days and whilst I agree that they have a place, I can’t help but feel, like many people I speak to, that technology is having an obvious effect on our youth. They are missing out on experiencing that connection and, even more concerning, is the danger of misinformation…history being rewritten even.
Family Recipes And The Memories They Create
I admit that I can be guilty of this too. We have over 200 cookery books at home but for ease and in an age where information is at our fingertips, many of my ‘everyday’ recipes are accessed via a screen.
However, some cookery books I sit down and happily read as if they are novels. I’m talking about the ones that include sepia stained photographs of generations long gone and tell a story - where the recipes came from, how they’ve been passed down and the traditions that accompany them.
These are the books I love the most. The likes of Aromas of Aleppo, Falling Cloudberries and, more recently, Imad’s Syrian Kitchen, are amongst my favourites. For these recipes and their stories not to be shared feels like a disservice to those who came before us.
If you’re lucky enough to still have parents or grandparents around, talk to them about food. Ask them about family dishes and traditions. Cook with them, eat with them and laugh together. Learn those unwritten recipes. You know the ones I mean - the ones where ingredients are measured in ‘a little bit of this’ and ‘a little bit of that'. Make memories to pass down alongside the recipes of these treasured dishes.
Time moves quickly and it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day.
Before you know it, elders are older, memories fade and that particular dish that you remember so fondly from your childhood becomes impossible to recreate
Years ago I asked my mother to write duplicate copies of some of her cherished recipes. Not for me, but for my children. I wanted them to have more than just the recipes. I wanted them to see the recipes penned in her own hand, exactly as she had written them. Now that mum is no longer with us, I find great comfort in looking at those pages, seeing her beautiful handwriting and knowing that my children will have a little piece of her to pass on to their own families.
The Power of Sharing Recipes
Traditions don’t only have to stay within families. Sometimes the recipes we share with friends become just as meaningful. Whether it’s handwritten on a scrap of paper or shared in a WhatsApp message, those exchanges are part of keeping our collective culinary history alive and reminding us that connection can come from anywhere.
My friend Lina understands this better than anyone. Growing up with Italian parents, she was taught to cook by her devoted mother with, in her own words "an abundance of love".
Keeping Family Food Traditions Alive Through Friends
Lina keeps her family traditions alive through the food she cooks for her own family and friends - dishes full of warmth, memory and care such as Traditional Italian Ragu Sauce from Calabria. She explains that when she was growing up, pasta was a staple meal that was served at home at least twice a week, much like a Sunday roast in many English homes.
Today Lina passionately shares those same recipes through Lina's Italian Kitchen, bringing people together to make and enjoy authentic homemade pasta.
"Lina's Italian Kitchen is a celebration of authentic Italian cooking and heritage. With a deep-rooted passion for traditional recipes passed down through generations, Lina creates an environment where the art of pasta making is shared and celebrated. The kitchen is not only a place to dine but also a space where homemade pasta and rich sauces are taught and enjoyed together, ensuring that every meal is made with love and tradition"
You can see more of Lina's beautiful food and the stories behind it on Instagram and Facebook.
Why Stories Make Home Cooking Taste Better
So the next time you’re entertaining at home and deciding on your menu, why not serve a dish that has a story connected to it? Food with a little history behind it always seems to taste better. And if you’re not the sentimental type? No matter - it's a wonderful way to spark conversation around the table. Stories about who first cooked it, where it came from or why it’s special, have a way of bringing people closer.
There’s a certain warmth that comes from sharing food that carries meaning. The kind of warmth that lingers long after the plates have been cleared.
