I have a confession to make. I’m writing a cookbook. Well, technically, I’ve been talking about writing a cookbook for quite some time. But now I’m actually doing it. And y’all, I have discovered something. Apparently, writing a cookbook involves a whole lot more than knowing how to cook. Who knew?!
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I’ve been dreaming about this book for years. And I can see it so clearly…
A beautiful hardcover cookbook. Soft, pretty colors. Gorgeous photographs. A little farmhouse charm. A little whimsy. Recipes that remind me of Flour Blossom Bakery and all the things I love about being in the kitchen. I can practically see it sitting on somebody’s kitchen counter. And I can definitely picture myself holding that finished book, grinning like a fool be
cause, by golly, I DID IT!
And then, of course, I want everybody to tell me how beautiful it is. I’m just being honest, y’all. There’s just one teeny-tiny little problem.
NOW WHAT?!
You see, I have ideas. Oh, honey, do I have ideas. Recipes. Chapters. Photographs. Stories. Baking tips. Pretty little details. Things I want to include. Things I might want to include. Things I haven’t even thought of yet but will probably decide are absolutely necessary in the middle of the night when I get up to potty.
My brain is basically a Pinterest board with no organizational system. And every time I sit down to work on this beautiful cookbook, I’ve been dreaming about, I find myself asking the same question.
NOW WHAT?! Do I organize the chapters? Test another recipe? Write a story? Take pictures? Figure out the layout? Should I be researching publishing? Do I need a better notebook? Wait. Maybe I need another notebook. Because surely a pretty new notebook will solve everything.
I Thought I’d Be Baking!
Here’s the funny part. I’m a pastry chef. I went to culinary school. I owned a bakery. I’m comfortable with flour flying around the kitchen. I know my way around a mixing bowl, and I’ve spent plenty of time making beautiful things people can eat. But writing a cookbook? Well, that’s a whole different recipe.
There are ingredients to measure and double-check. Recipes to test. Instructions to write so somebody else can actually follow them. Photographs to take. Stories to remember. And then there are all those decisions. Good grief, the decisions.
I can spend an entire afternoon thinking about how I want something to look, only to realize I haven’t actually accomplished the thing I sat down to do. But I have definitely thought about it. Extensively. Does that count as progress? Asking for a friend.
The Trouble With Having a Vision
I think part of my problem is that I already know how I want the finished cookbook to look. And I don’t mean I have a vague little idea. Oh, no. I have a VISION.
I want it BEAUTIFUL. I want it WARM and WELCOMING. I want it to feel like walking into Flour Blossom Bakery. I want somebody to open it and see more than a collection of recipes. I want them to see the little bakery I loved, the things I learned, the food I created, and a whole lot of my personality tucked between those pages. And because I can picture it so clearly, I sometimes forget that I have to actually BUILD the thing.
One recipe…One photograph…One story…One decision at a time. Which sounds perfectly reasonable until my brain decides we should work on all of them at the same time.
So, What Happens Next?
Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I’m learning that I don’t have to figure out the entire cookbook every time I sit down to work on it. Some days I’ll test a recipe. Some days I’ll write. Some days I’ll take pictures. And some days I’ll probably spend entirely too much time deciding whether something should be pale pink or buttercream yellow. Because apparently, that’s who I am.
But little by little, Flour Blossom Kitchen is beginning to take shape. And I am ridiculously excited about it. I still picture that beautiful, finished cookbook. I still imagine holding it for the first time. And yes, I still hope everybody says it’s gorgeous.
But for now, I’m going to keep working through all those little decisions, one at a time. And the next time I sit down with my coffee, my notebook, and approximately 150 ideas bouncing around in my head, I’ll probably ask myself the same question.
NOW WHAT?!
And hopefully, I’ll have enough sense to pick ONE thing and get started. Or at least finish my coffee first. That seems reasonable.
A Little Flour Blossom Note
If you’ve ever had a dream so big and exciting that you couldn’t figure out where to begin, please tell me I’m not alone! And if you’ve ever purchased a brand-new notebook thinking it would magically organize your entire life…well, honey, pull up a chair. I think we’re going to get along just fine.
From my Flour Blossom kitchen to yours. 🌸
Natalie💛
