About Rice Recipes Grain

What this work is made with

This page is a list of things, not a story. A recipe lives in the tools that shape it—their weight, their scars, the way they wear down over time. Here, we name what this site depends on, and what each thing has taught.

The work is built around rice, broths, and grains—where every dish carries history in its texture and taste. This is not about ingredients, but the hands and objects that turn them into meals. What follows is what we use, how long it has lasted, and what it has changed.

The things that do the work

Four objects keep this site running. They are the ones that hold, stir, and shape what we share. Each has its own story—some are worn out, some are unremarkable, but all are essential.

Steel pot

A heavy, dented pot with a warped lid, bought secondhand fifteen years ago. It has survived more burns than we can count, and the lid no longer seals properly—but it still steams rice perfectly, every time.

It taught us that perfection is not the goal. A pot that leaks steam still makes the best rice, as long as the grains stay tender. We keep it because it works, even when it shouldn’t.

Wooden spoon

A smooth, splintered spoon with a handle worn thin from years of stirring. It was a gift from my grandmother, and it has outlasted three other spoons we’ve broken trying to match its durability.

It taught us that the best tools are the ones that feel like an extension of your hand. This spoon has no fancy carvings, no polished finish—just a perfect balance, and the knowledge that it will never let us down.

Ceramic plate

A chipped, handmade plate with uneven edges, bought at a flea market for a dollar. It holds rice better than any store-bought dish, and the chips only make the food taste more honest.

It taught us that imperfection is part of the process. A plate with flaws still serves a meal, and sometimes, those flaws make the dish feel more real. We keep it because it reminds us that cooking isn’t about perfection—it’s about the meal.

Cloth towel

A frayed, graying towel that has absorbed more spilled broths than we can remember. It’s held together with stitches in three places, and the edges are singed from too many close calls with the stove.

It taught us that some things are irreplaceable. No matter how many new towels we buy, this one is the only one that feels right for wiping down pots. It’s worn out, but we keep it because it’s part of the rhythm of the kitchen.

What is not in the drawer

This site does not depend on gadgets, timers, or precision scales. We don’t measure in grams or rely on digital thermometers. The work here is built on instinct, experience, and the things that have stood the test of time.

Behind the scenes

I am Marguerite Rasmussen, the founder and editor of *Rice Recipes Grain*. I hold the wooden spoon, stir the pot, and decide which recipes make it to the page.

I came to this from my grandmother’s kitchen, where rice was never just food—it was memory. She handed me that wooden spoon when I was twelve, and I’ve never let it go.

This work has given me a permanent blister on my left thumb from stirring too long, and I now notice every uneven grain in every dish. I can’t walk past a pot without wondering what’s inside.

I’m here to share recipes that feel like home—not just the steps, but the stories behind them. The things in this kitchen don’t just make food; they make history.

Why any of this matters to you

Every dish on this site is shaped by these things—the pot that steams, the spoon that stirs, the plate that holds. They ensure the food you read about is the food you’ll actually make: honest, tested, and real.

When you cook from a recipe here, you’re not just following steps. You’re using tools that have been worn in by years of meals, by hands that know when rice is done before the timer beeps. That’s the difference.