About the recipes.

As a child I lived with my grandmother. She had many old books, including the largest “Book of Delicious and Healthy Food.” The year 1953. My grandmother was working in the hospital at three in a day, so I was often left alone.
Slowly, in order not to ridicule the tired grandmother after the shift, I began to look into this book and cook something for myself.
The food was probably healthy, but absolutely tasteless: almost unsalted, somewhat purple. Gradually I developed a complex that my hands grow from exactly where the recipes from this book should come from.
Many years later, when I came to my next vacation, I started helping my grandmother put the house in order. Books on the shelves have long changed names and covers. Looking into the inside of the couch, I stumbled upon this book.
Having remembered all the fat that I periodically ate, I still carefully wiped it with a cloth. In front of my eyes were the letters that I did not consider in my youthful rush: "A book about delicious and healthy food for children from one to three years."
There was a roar far away.