At Lost Recipes, each box we explore is more than a container of handwritten instructions—it’s a lived archive. A curated, accidental autobiography. The recipe cards, clipped articles, and notes in the margins are quiet records of kitchen life—most often a woman whose public story has vanished, but whose voice remains in stained and sometimes barely legible recipe cards.

The collectors behind these boxes are unknown to us. Some we can find in obituaries or city directories. A few leave no public record at all, only a name penciled on a card or a worn return address label. When we do uncover more, we try to follow that thread with respect, curiosity, and restraint.

These are not exposés. These are elegies.

We believe every woman who filled a recipe box left behind a kind of time capsule: of what she loved, what she dreamed of trying, what she made in celebration or grief, and what she hoped would nourish others long after she was gone. We approach each box with the belief that it deserves to be read like a letter from the past.

This project is built on the following values:

DIGNITY – We never reveal more than feels appropriate. When stories edge into the personal or painful, we pause and consider before sharing.

IMAGINATION with BOUNDARIES – Where the record ends, we sometimes wonder aloud. But we mark these moments clearly as speculation or feeling, not fact.

TRANSPARENCY – We share what we know, and we share how we know it. We aim to let readers see the process of discovery.

GRATITUDE – We feel deeply honored to handle these remnants of past cooks. This project is our way of saying: We are honored to find a seat at your kitchen table. Thank you.

If you recognize someone in these stories, or you are a relative of a collector featured here, please know we welcome your voice. These boxes came to us through the drift of time and distance, but we hope to honor the hands that once guarded them. You can reach us through the contact page.

With respect,

The Archivists at Lost Recipes