I keep a stack of index cards in a drawer. Some of them are in my grandmother's handwriting. Some have a tomato-sauce thumbprint in the corner. A few of them, honestly, I can barely read.
For years I meant to do "something" with them. Type them up. Make a Word doc. Hire a book designer. The best intentions keep grandma's chicken pot pie in the drawer.
So we built the thing that takes that excuse off the table.
As of this week, anyone with a collection of recipes in Old Family Recipe can turn them into a real printed book. Three editions:
- Softcover — $29. 6×9", color interior. The family classic. Sits on your counter like a well-used paperback. - Classic Hardcover — $59. 8.5×11", casewrap binding. The one that lives on a shelf for the next generation. - Heirloom Photo Book — $99. 8.5×11", hardcover, 80# coated photo-grade paper. Thick pages, vibrant color reproduction — the keepsake-gift version. The one people cry opening.
All three are printed in North Carolina and shipped anywhere in the US. Made in America, by humans, on paper you can smell.
Every book ships with a QR code on the back cover. Scan it, you land on your family's living cookbook — the exact collection that was printed, plus every recipe you've added since.
The book in your hand is a snapshot. The QR keeps the collection alive. New recipes, new photos, same shelf. That's the promise: a book that doesn't stop growing when you close it.
The app already stores your recipes with ingredients, instructions, and the story behind each one. When you place an order, we assemble those into an interior PDF, design a cover with a title page and spine, and send it to the printer. You get an email when it's printed. Another one when it ships. Your order page shows tracking.
Members get a discount on every edition — Premium takes 10–20% off, Family Legacy takes 15–25% off, stacked with a multi-book discount if you're ordering more than one (for siblings, cousins, a reunion giveaway). The cap is 35% off.
A printed cookbook takes about three weeks from "click order" to "on your counter." So if you're reading this thinking "Father's Day is in June, I should order one" — you also need to spend some of those weeks actually saving the recipes. The book is the endpoint, not the first step.
Start with five recipes this weekend. Aunt Marie's pot roast. Dad's grill rub. The pasta sauce your mom's been making since 1978. In a month or two you'll have the collection. Then it's just a button.
If your family's recipes are in a drawer, or a shoebox, or a folder on someone's laptop that hasn't been opened in three years — that's not storage. That's slowly losing them.
The first recipe is the hardest. The book is the reward. Every recipe in between is just showing up.
Or if you're not ready for the book yet: save your first recipe. Thirty seconds. We'll wait on the printing until you're ready.