I enjoy reading recipe cards aloud. Especially at the homes of neighbors and trusted friends. I always ask to see their kitchen files. Although sometimes I don’t ask. I just find the cards myself. They’re usually not hidden very well. Stacked in a drawer or folded into an envelope or strapped to the Gentleman-of-the-House’s thigh.
I always return them in the correct order. But only after I’ve read them. Out loud. Right in the middle of conversation. Or even if I’ve been left alone while they go check on the baby.
I can’t help myself. I just have to find out how they end.