Beauty Of An Old Faded Recipe

The Japanese term wabi-sabi explains what I love about the old, faded recipe in the photo below. Wabi is about the beauty of “less is more”, including of having less, and of being grateful for a simpler life. It’s about the beauty in imperfection. Sabi is also about imperfection, but more in terms of appearance. That something old, worn, genuine, and loved has a greater beauty and inner life than something new or artificial.

It’s why I keep this recipe card, and always use it when cooking this dish, even though I have the recipe written out elsewhere. You see, my daughter will inherit not just the recipes on this blog, but also this card. It was written for me by my late mother-in-law. I think of my mother-in-law when I see her handwriting here. She loved using this red pen, especially for crosswords. I remember her making this dish. I think of her old gas stove and her floral crockery. I think of her myriad of aprons, and her other collections. I think of her sense of humour. Her table was a place where people laughed.

The “aged” patina of the card has to do with the number of times I’ve successfully made her casserole. The dish is simple, but all the more valuable, precisely because of its simplicity. The inner life of the card is why I keep it.

The card is leaning against a packing chest that belonged to my mother-in-law’s grandfather. It travelled to and from the Boer War. It’s made of camphor wood, and 120 years later, when you open it, you can still smell the camphor. It’s old, worn, genuine, imperfect, and it most definitely still has a life of its own.

All of us get a little bit worn and imperfect. Some days, the shine rubs off. When that happens, I try to be grateful for the simple things. There is beauty in us yet.