At the end of summer I started copying over all of my paper printout recipes onto cards. They never bothered me until they just started seeming out of control. I couldn’t wrangle them in one area out of control. It’s way too easy to print off a recipe, try it, and just let the paper stash in with others whether it was successful for the family or not. Things got out of hand.

I found a printable template for 4×6 cards online and copied them off on old manilla file folders. Slowly, I would spend some evenings handwriting recipes. Some were completely silly, over the top explanatory down to the minute details. I edited to fit my little cards. Some were pretty sad “ideas” of recipes with ingredients jotted down and an oven temperature. I elaborated. And I set them all in a cabinet deciding which perfect recipe box would be mine.

I searched Ebay, Etsy, resale and consignment shops with no success. I poured through online images and talked about making a wooden one. In the end I loved the timeless beauty of the Rifle Paper Co. tin and convinced Dear Husband $34.00 was indeed a fair price for something I’ll never need to replace. (Wouldn’t you know the first one arrived damaged? Ugh! Fortunately, the second was perfect.) Now she is full of recipes for our bellies. My copying is complete and each new recipe will be discarded or copied per success.

My poor family. I must sound like a lunatic in the kitchen when I grab my box exaggeratedly and carry it to the island. “Hmm….” I mumble loudly, “let me just check in my awesome recipe box for something to make for dinner.”