On March 19, as the coronavirus pandemic began to shut down parts of the United States, Mallory Brooks, co-editor of the lifestyle newsletter Garden Variety, sent out a group text message to 13 people. "I'd love to see what everyone is cooking/eating during this weird time!" the 30-year-old, who lives in Greenville, South Carolina, wrote. The resulting GroupMe, "What's for Dinner?" has since grown to 17 participants. They share menu suggestions, original recipes, creative ways to use leftovers, and examples of failures, like strawberry pie falling from the refrigerator to the floor. Brooks' sister even created a Pinterest board to archive recipes that would otherwise be buried in quick conversational snippets.
Emily Stephenson, a 33-year-old New York cookbook author, also wanted dinner inspiration during quarantine but couldn't keep up with social media. “It feels like all the food writers I follow post so much (helpful!) content, but it’s huge, scattered all over the place, and probably disappears after 24 hours on [Instagram] Stories.” Her solution: An online magazine, The Untitled Pantry Project, containing recipes from various contributors (including myself).
San Francisco restaurateur Celia Sack explains that the growing number of quarantine projects emerging during the COVID-19 pandemic is akin to the old community cookbooks (home cook groups) that have been popular since the 19th century Compilation of recipes) were compared. The cookbook store at Omnivore Books. However, the emergence of "cookbooks" - published by friends, social media groups dedicated to cooking, or by brands and industry organizations that promote the work of frontline chefs - has the advantage of being quickly assembled online, thus bypassing the long and The selective process of traditional book publishing. They also instantly capture the emotion of these unprecedented times, becoming a time capsule of this unique moment in our lives.
Historically, collections of recipes in community cookbooks were put together by an editor sourcing recipes from other members, with proceeds benefiting schools, religious institutions, temperance societies, orphanages, and more. (They're also almost "100 percent made by women," Sack adds.) Over the years, these cookbooks have emerged during times of crisis, like the AIDS crisis-era books Sack recently sold to LGBT synagogues. Books produced by the wives of airmen stationed in Germany during World War I and World War II showcased photos of bombed-out locations among cooking unusual recipes and guides to meat cuts and substitutions. The books were "conducive to war work, but were also about how to deal with rationed items and help you use things you weren't used to cooking with." Sounds a bit like a 2020 kitchen.
They are real recipes shared by everyday people who understand the power of food on an intimate level.
Many of the cookbooks being published now have a fundraising component or talk about the mental health benefits of cooking during stressful times. Edited by interdisciplinary artist and chef Krystal Mack, How to Take Care includes wellness practices in addition to recipes. The e-book is available for download in exchange for a donation of $5 or more to organizations that support victims of domestic violence, and more than $7,000 was raised in one month.
Mack, 34, cited the rich history of community cookbooks in the Black community as inspiration for her project . "While the end goal of [these recipes] is often to raise funds, they are real recipes shared by everyday people who understand the power of food on an intimate level," she said. Mack, who lives in Baltimore, collected submissions that included activities like reading poetry and making fruit salad as part of an e-book to help people cope with the stress of the pandemic.
Cookware brand Great Jones planned to eventually release a cookbook, but decided to speed up the release when the pandemic hit. Charity co-founder Sierra Tishgart said sales of the digital cookbook Family Table benefited No Kid Hungry, which had chosen the book in response to the rise in child hunger due to the coronavirus pandemic. . Released as a Mother's Day gift, the book pays homage to the role women play in raising families.
Rachel Scola decided to join Who?s Cooking, a Facebook group for fans of the podcast Who Weekly?, after reading a story in the New York Times about fans of the podcast Who Weekly ? Organize a community cookbook . After taking a break from her job in the entertainment industry, she wanted to relearn some graphic design as a quarantine project. Her 25 submissions were mostly comfort foods, like hash brown casserole or vegan mac and cheese, and members shared the backstories of the recipes as well as their Instagram accounts. Scola, 25, tasted some of the recipes while putting together the book and said the dishes were delicious and reflected changes in cooking during the Kwa period.
“I put off ordering meal boxes because they weren’t economical while I was waiting for unemployment to come,” she said. "I do a lot of budget cooking, 'throw out the pantry' cooking, and give away extra baked goods to friends in the neighborhood."
Especially during quarantine, community efforts like this provide meaningful support and connection. Brooks took a week off from GroupMe while dealing with anxiety that affected her interest in food and cooking. Even while eating simple foods like cinnamon toast, she found comfort in reading the day's posts, returning when her mental health improved. For Scola, group responsibility is a motivating factor when her days lack structure. "Part of me wants to see myself achieve this, especially since my day job is on hold due to the pandemic and I don't have a lot of projects to fill my time," she said.
“I want my friends and colleagues to share something that will help them feel grounded,” Mike added. "For some people it looks like breathing exercises, and for others it's like baking a loaf of sourdough."