The rolling pin from Kansas
Her mother's, carried in a suitcase in 1961. It has a crack in it. She won't use any other.
for Lily, Max, Theo, and whoever comes next
Nothing in this kitchen was ever measured.
For sixty years, June Whitaker fed whoever walked through the door. The recipes were in her hands, not on paper. So we sat with her, wrote down every "a pinch" and "until it looks right", and saved her voice telling us how.
→ pull a tab on the right to turn the page
i
Sundays
the recipe tin
Pull a card from the tin
Five cards from the tin, exactly as she says them. Tap the top card to see the next one. On her real webfolio, every card plays June explaining it.
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2
for the grandkids
How to measure like June
She never owned a measuring cup she trusted. So Lily stood next to her for a year and translated. Tap one of Grandma's measures to see roughly what it means in the real world.
the stories behind the food
Why there's always a spare plate
"Taste it. Now taste it again."
How she teaches: no rules, just tasting until you know. Lily can make the pie crust blindfolded now.
The neighbor's dumplings
Mrs. Lin next door taught her in 1979, in trade for the peach cobbler. Both recipes are in the tin.
sixty years of Sundays
The kitchen, through the years
The family pieced this together from photo albums, a shoebox of letters and a lot of "wait, which year was that?"
- 1961
A suitcase from Kansas
Her mother's rolling pin, three dresses and a jar of starter dough, all on a Greyhound bus.
- 1963
Married Joe, in white
Two families, one tiny kitchen, and a wedding cake she baked herself the night before.
- 1979
The dumpling trade
Mrs. Lin's dumplings for June's peach cobbler. The best deal either of them ever made.
- 1994
Letters in the tin
Thank-you notes from every church potluck, tucked in with the recipes. She kept them all.
- 2015
Lily's first pie
Lopsided, a little burnt, and the best thing June ever tasted. Or so she said.
- Now
Still walking, arm in arm
Sunday dinners, every week, for whoever turns up.
who sits where
The Sunday table
Every Sunday at four, eight plates. Tap a plate to meet who sits there.
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25
stitched by Aunt Rose, 1988
Things June always says
Aunt Rose stitched the first one for June's birthday. The family has been adding to the list ever since. Watch it sew itself, then tap for another.
26in her own words · 35 sec
"Don't you dare measure the vanilla."
Lily recorded this on Grandpa's old tape recorder one Christmas Eve. On her real webfolio, it's her own voice, crackle and all.
22Now listen. You pour the vanilla until it smells like Christmas, and then you add a little more, because the oven takes some for itself. Your great-grandmother did it that way, and I do it that way, and one day you'll do it that way too. And you'll think of me. That's the whole recipe, really.
On this sample your device reads the words aloud. On a real Legacy Webfolio, it's their own voice.just for family
The family room
Some things are only for us. On a real Legacy Webfolio, private pages sit behind a passcode only the family knows.
30What year did Grandma and Grandpa marry?
This is a sample, so here's the answer: 1961.
Theo, the pie dish with the blue rim is yours. Don't let your sister tell you otherwise. — G
For Lily's wedding: the cake recipe is under the drawer liner. You'll know which drawer.
Max, call your mother on Sundays. That's not a recipe, it's an order.