Cookbook Serendipity

I have been wondering recently when the next used cookbook sale at the Hollywood Farmer’s Market was going to happen. It’s a nice surprise to find out it was today. I set up the St. Benoit stand and walk to the intersection where volunteers are unloading the boxes of books from the van.

I begin to browse quickly. I have very little time. The books are still in the boxes. Hundreds of them. I find a nice book on sauces and another one on Texas cooking. The third book is entitled “The Cornicopia” No jacket, nice brown binding and I like the name. I open it and notice the fonts and drawings. I think, “This is the one!”

I don’t have my wallet with me. I look for a salesperson to let them know I am taking the three books and that I am coming back later to pay for them.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone in charge. 3–4 people are trying to figure out how to unload the truck. I see a tall woman with a Audrey Hepburn haircut standing next to a man who is attempting to take charge. Probably mid-fifties. Little bit of gray. Full body. I stand for a minute and hope I can get her attention. She looks as if she is pretending not to notice me. Nada. I clear my throat.

“Excuse me. I work here. I am going to take these books with me and come back later to pay when everything is set up.”

Her eyes soften up a bit. She nods yes.

At that moment I see an older woman who is walking towards me. She is probably in her mid-seventies, about 5'2, hair of gray, loose and uncombed, kind of crazy looking and slightly overweight. She looks like she’s from Hogworts. She has a sparkle in her eyes and she looks like she is in a trance as she floats towards me. At first I think she is a crazy Russian woman and how Bezian believes Russian immigrants will buy anything if it cost .99 cents. She lifts her right arm and lays her hand on my left shoulder.

“What the hell?” I think. The other woman watches.

There is a look of disbelief in the woman’s eyes.

“That’s my book. I wrote that book!”

My jaw drops open and it’s my turn to be in disbelief. The watcher says, “wow!” It turns out that Judith Herman, the author who had written the book with her mother in the early ‘70’s, was there to help with the sales. I reach for my pen and say, “You have to sign this”

She moves slowly and tries to find a flat spot to lay the book on. She opens it to see if she had signed it before. It turns out that it was a gift to someone else. Judith finds a flat spot.

“How do you spell your name?”

I sound it out. She then asks,

“Do you know how to spell “happenstance?”