The Hidden Recipe Treasure

It was an exciting day. It was springtime and I was moving into my very first home. It was a long time coming, saving and saving every last penny to finally get a cute fixer upper. I knew it would be slow going, but I also knew in my heart that this home would eventually be perfect.

The transformation started slowly. A little scraping here, a little paint there, busting up old tiles, and tearing out old carpet. It was dirty work, but satisfying to see the little changes that would transform this house into the home I had in my dreams.

Each room had to be perfect. I spent hours selecting paint colors, just the right pieces of furniture and fabrics, and those extra special things that make a room cozy and comfortable. I scoured thrift stores, yard sales and flea markets for those one-of-a-kind unique pieces. I didn't want those mass produced items that just anyone could buy. And by shopping this way I was also stretching my ever thinning budget.

Eventually the day came that I dreaded...major remodeling time ! All I could do was tackle them as best as I could considering my limited skills and shrinking bank account. But I was up to the challenge and decided to start in the heart of every home, the kitchen. Demolition would be fairly straight forward and I tackled it head on.

As the weeks progressed and the old cabinets and floors were being peeled away little by little, I started feeling overwhelmed by the amount of time and money it was going to take to put all this back together. When the estimates started coming in for plumbing, electrical, cabinets, and installers, I thought I was done. There was no way, with what little I could tuck away every month, that I was ever going to be able to finish.

Still, to keep myself from wallowing in the impossible, I kept hammering and sawing away and tried to keep my dream alive, if even just in my heart. Step by step, little by little, one board at a time.

On one particular gloomy day when I wanted to quit for good, I decided to tackle one last corner that held a built-in pantry cupboard. As I pulled trim work and boards away I noticed that a portion of the back panel was slightly loose. When I pulled it away from the wall I saw a small opening. I hesitantly reached into the hole and came out with a small, tattered black book that looked as if had been there for a hundred years. It turned out to be a book of hand written recipes. I put it aside while I finished tearing out the rest of the corner.

Later that night I sat down and decided to relax and check out this little book. I might find something that would inspire me to increase my culinary skills if my kitchen actually got finished. There were some pretty basic recipes, nothing fancy or expensive, just good old fashioned family meals. As I started to read some of the recipes I noticed some curious entries. These were things that had nothing to do with the actual cooking but more like clues as to where you would find certain ingredients.

Flipping through more pages, these clues started to appear more frequently and seemed to have some sort of pattern. Not one to let a good mystery go to waste, I started writing the clues down to see if I could decipher what they led to or meant. As the night went on there seemed to no rhyme or reason behind the entries, I put it down for another time.

The next days were a mangled mess of clean-up and worry. Going over finances for the hundredth time didn't make any more money appear and my dream was beginning to fade. I had put everything in to this little house and now I'll be living in an unfinished house with no where to go. As I wallowed in my misery I thought back to that little black recipe book and decided to take my mind of my worries for just a bit and look for some more clues.

As I sat looking at my list, some things started to make sense. There were lines like "cut the corner off in the garden", "these steps may be crooked", "push to the bottom", "secret ingredients are kept in the jars", "keep the leftovers for future use". Admittedly, I was intrigued, so I thought I'd explore this little plot of land for a long forgotten garden. I put on my work boots, grabbed a weed whacker and started beating through the weeds.

It was tedious work but it kept me from worrying about the current situation. Eventually I came across an old portion of fence that looked to have been overgrown a very long time ago. I kept on and found another post, then another until I was sure there must have been a garden here at one time. If I could only find those hidden steps, wouldn't that be exciting ! Darkness was falling so I to had to stop my exploration for the day.

The next morning came with the fresh brisk air of autumn. The leaves were turning their bright oranges and reds. I felt invigorated and ready to continue my investigation into this mysterious old garden. As I trudged and whacked along, finding fence post after fence post, I suddenly heard a distinctive change in sound when my boot hit the ground. I stomped a few times, realizing that something was underneath I ran back to the shed to find a shovel. I began digging and in no time uncovered a crude hatch that was not budging. Putting all my strength into that shovel, I finally pried it open.

The opening was barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through and steps that followed were worn and crumbling. Taking a chance, I gingerly stepped down a couple steps. It was enough to make out a small crude, timber lined room lined with shelves filled with small jars. The room was dark and although I hated to leave for even one second, I had to get a flashlight. When I returned, it was incredible.

There were fifty or so of these small jars, each holding some small treasure. In one a beautiful brooch, in another, a small gold ring, and in another a few coins. I carefully pulled these jars out, one by one, into the daylight. Once I had taken them all to the house I began opening and cataloguing the contents, all the while wondering who it was that saved all these precious treasures. After consulting with an antique dealer, the value of the items was more than the $20,000 I needed to finish my dream home. The rest, well they were put back in the jars for "future use".

I felt compelled to finish the mystery and spent some time finding the origins of the property. After months of research I found that the home belonged to the widow of a fallen soldier. She had been hiding away these little treasures in the hopes of one day giving them to her children. Sadly, she never had children and died leaving this property abandoned for many years. A development venture bought the land but bankrupted before construction began, that's when I stepped in to restore this quaint cottage.

There now stands a lovely memorial in my garden dedicated to this woman and her "Recipe Treasures". And the little black recipe book....I use it every day !