Return to the Recipe Box

When I was a child, I remember my mother printing online recipes and filing them away in a binder. She would often ask me to find and print one for her while she hovered over the counter chopping vegetables. Of course, this was not her sole source of inspiration. She'd often put cooking shows on TV, and her cabinets were full of cookbooks and one small, distinct brown box containing recipes in various scripts of handwriting. Some belonged to my grandmother, others to my aunts. All were delicious.

These days, printing and storing recipes in a binder or a box is largely unnecessary. Since I moved to Georgia, I've gotten along just fine with only my phone and my computer to house my recipes. I started a running file on Google Docs to remember my favorite dishes so I didn't have to. The limitless information available on the Internet ensured variety and allowed for experimentation with all kinds of cuisines. The positive aspects of storing recipes online are not something to be discounted. However, this method also has its drawbacks.

The primary issue I have with online recipes is that technology is distracting. I may intend to pull up recipes to make my grocery list to ensure I will be fed for the next week, but then I get sucked into YouTube for an hour instead. Not to mention, the recipes themselves are littered with so many pop-up ads that the sites become overwhelmed and reload every 10 seconds, forcing me to scroll through entire articles repeatedly to find where I left off. The notifications are ridiculous and I need to get away from them. I also believe that the occasional digital detox is healthy, so I've been trying to figure out how to make that a regular part of my weekly routine. Unfortunately, the only days available to me for such a pursuit are also the only days I have available for meal prep. Inevitably, my requirement for sustenance wins that battle every time.

Then there is also the matter of my being a student with a sweet tooth. I could buy candy or bakery items at the store to satisfy my cravings, but that's a lot of extra cash and trash. Besides, I recognize my weaknesses. We all know that bag of chocolate intended to last a week wouldn't last a day. To solve this problem, I have resorted to the humble 'brownie in a mug' that was all the rage in Pinterest's infancy. I can make one serving at a time, and it has to be really worth it to me to get out of my chair, pull out all the ingredients, make the dessert, put away all the ingredients, wipe off the counter, and wash a few dishes. I chose a recipe from a blog called CelebratingSweets. It is my go-to study snack (well, that and seasoned popcorn, which I also make from scratch). Over time, I started to notice that I have a tendency to look up many of the same recipes over and over again and that this seemed to be my sole excuse for not being able to do my desired digital detox.

Enter my brilliant idea: why not just write the recipes down? What seemed like an impossible conundrum had the simplest, most obvious solution. I had become so used to relying on my tablet and phone for my favorite recipes that I convinced myself I needed these devices in order to eat. Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? Humans have been combining foods and sharing meals for as long as our species has been on this planet, but I have to stop participating in that because I want to put down my iPhone?

Thus, I pulled out some index cards and a pen, and I began my latest endeavor. So far I have found my handwritten notecards to be much more convenient than looking up recipes when I need them, and I have been able to eschew many of the distractions that precede my cooking attempts. I am also proud to say that I have been able to participate in a successful, temporary digital detox and that there will be more of this to come. Putting down my devices even for just a morning was more difficult than I anticipated, and therefore, this is a skill I will need to practice for better mental hygiene. My new old-fashioned recipe box is the first step of this journey.