It occurred to me one day that none of Yeranuhe Nanny’s family-favorite recipes were written down. Unlike me, Nanny didn’t need a recipe for any of her dishes; she could make everything blind-folded, with one hand tied behind her back.
One day I visited her with my bagful of measuring cups & spoons, and a large note pad to jot things down. As Nanny scooped flour into her hand I’d stop her, guide her hand to an appropriately-sized measuring cup, take an accurate measure, then write down the amount.
This was the procedure for every ingredient for as many recipes as she was willing to share.
Nanny thought the idea of measuring utensils was pretty silly since these items were never a part of her kitchen. "That’s what hands are for."
I tried to explain that not everybody had the same-sized hands. She dismissed that notion with the flip of her hand.