Many people believe that writing a cookbook is a cinch. After all, what is there involved? Writing down some ingredients, scratching out a few instructions, and slapping it together neatly for a publisher, right? Wrong. Very, very wrong. Writing a cookbook is a very specific process.

What to find out more about it?

Let’s assume you are creating all your own new recipes (and let’s take this one recipe at a time). First, you must decide on what you want the dish to be like/taste like. What ingredients would you like it to contain? Write them down, and write down the approximate method of cooking. Then, you must test the recipe to see if what you conjured up works. As you go along, you must make notes about what’s working and what isn’t, what you’ve changed, and what you would like to change. Then, you must test it again to see if your changes improve the recipe. Even if you feel it was perfect the first time, you must test it again to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. Ideally, you should test a recipe at least three times–more, if you made substantial changes all three times.

Once you’re satisfied with the recipe, you must format it properly. Now, styles will vary, depending on the publishing house you submit to, but there is one strict rule: Always list the ingredients in order of use. If your method calls for first sauteing onion in olive oil, then adding spinach and salt, don’t start  your list with green peppers, mushrooms, and cinnamon. And you have to make sure that your method is clear and concise. You don’t want to confuse or overwhelm your readers with convoluted instructions.

(Incidentally, if you’re writing individual recipes for magazines, format it according to the magazine’s style. For example, if they use the “1.2.3.” method, then that’s how you should set up your recipes.)

The process can be expensive. Unless you have an advance from your publisher or the sponsorship of a company, the cost for all the ingredients (and whatever specialty equipment you might need) comes out of your pocket. The upside of this is that you can deduct these items on your tax return. That’s right. If you earn an income from your book (i.e., royalties), you can write these things off.

All of this is time-consuming, too. Just to give you an idea of just how much, according to my files, I started my current cookbook-in-progress in 2002. Yep, you read correctly. Why so long? Because when you have a full-time job, coming home at night anywhere between 6:30 and 8:00, recipe testing is relegated to the weekends. And, of course, even the weekend are time-constrained. We all (or, most of us, anyway) have lives and responsibilities and things to do, places to go, people to see. Many weekends came and went when I just had to say, “I can’t do any cooking this weekend.” And when you have to test 100 or 200 recipes two, three, even four times, well, that makes a project drag on a mighty long time.

Having said all that, when you have your finished product, that is something to be immensely proud of. I put a hell of a lot of work into my first cookbook, What, No Meat?, and I am very proud it. I’ll be sharing some of the recipes from that book on the Recipes page, starting with an antipasto (of course, what else?), Insalata Caprese. And I’m going to be chronicling the progress of my current project, too, so keep checking in for updates–especially if you want a good laugh (sometimes things turn out…um…not so great).

I hope this helps all you aspiring recipe/cookbook writers out there. Let me know if I can help out in some way.

Peace,
Roberta