Why I Collect Cookbooks I Rarely Cook From

I have over 150 cookbooks, and if you walked into my kitchen, you might assume I’m constantly cooking elaborate meals straight from their pages. The truth? I rarely follow the recipes.

And yet, I wouldn’t give up a single one.

To me, cookbooks are more than instructions—they’re inspiration, creativity, and comfort all wrapped into one. Each book holds a different world. Some are full of rustic, cozy meals that feel like home. Others are bold and experimental, pushing flavors I’ve never tried before. I don’t open them because I need to make dinner—I open them because I want to feel inspired.

There’s something special about flipping through the pages, seeing a combination of ingredients I wouldn’t normally think to pair, or discovering a new technique hidden in the middle of a recipe. Even if I don’t follow it step-by-step, the idea sticks with me. Later, when I’m in my own kitchen, those ideas come to life in my own way.

My cooking isn’t about precision—it’s about creativity. A pinch of this, a swap of that, combining flavors based on memory rather than measurement. And honestly, my cookbooks are a huge part of that process. They’ve trained my instincts without me even realizing it.

Some people collect cookbooks to cook from them. I collect them to dream.

They sit on my shelves like a library of possibilities. On days when I feel stuck, uninspired, or just bored with the same meals, I’ll pull one down and start flipping. Within minutes, something sparks—a flavor combo, a texture, a plating idea—and suddenly I’m excited to cook again.

I may not follow the recipes, but I use the books more than I ever thought I would.

Because inspiration is its own kind of ingredient—and in my kitchen, it’s the most important one.