A few days ago my husband and I attended the PRX (Public Radio Exchange) Christmas party in Harvard Square, Cambridge. It was a lively evening filled with friendly conversations and the familiar feeling of recognizing people you’ve only known by name. I bumped into Robin, a radio producer from Radio Open Source, someone I had emailed once about a show on Europe. After the usual exchanges—“Nice to meet you! I can finally put a face to your email”—our conversation naturally turned to food. It always seems to go that way, which is one reason I’m grateful I have a blog: it gives me an easy way to share culinary obsessions without monopolizing every conversation.
That night felt especially fortunate. As we talked, Robin mentioned an upcoming program: “Wait—next week we’re doing a show about cookbooks.” “Really?” I replied. The show is called A Passion for Cookbooks, and the timing couldn’t have been better. I love cookbooks. Who doesn’t? They combine recipes, stories, history and visuals in a way no other book does. What makes a cookbook memorable? For me, it’s the stories behind the ingredients, clear explanations of the methods, and compelling photography that brings the dishes to life.
Mark your calendars: the episode is scheduled for Tuesday, December 20th.
As for my own cookbook collection, here’s a snapshot of my shelf:
That image shows only part of the collection. I have at least thirty more cookbooks that don’t yet have a permanent place and are currently stacked on the floor. Sacrilège! I haven’t convinced the “man of the house” that we need a dedicated cookbook bookcase—yet. It’s only a matter of time; he just needs a little more “cooking” time.
For me, a good cookbook tells a story: it explains where ingredients come from, why certain techniques are used, and how recipes evolved. Because I’m very visual, beautiful photography matters a great deal; photos help me imagine the final dish and inspire me to try the recipe. I’ve encountered great cookbooks and a few disappointments. Some recipes feel under-tested—follow the instructions exactly and sometimes the result simply doesn’t work. You learn quickly: after an experiment or two that don’t turn out, you become more cautious. By the third failed attempt you’re on guard and ready to adjust.
People collect many things—stamps, boxes, even empty frames. I collect cookbooks (and shoes, and bags, and more). This afternoon I planned a quiet reading session with one of my favorites. Today’s pick is Zest, a book I enjoy for its lively approach and flavorful ideas. Sitting down with a cookbook is one of my simplest pleasures: it’s part inspiration, part education, and always a reminder that food connects stories, places and people.