If you know me at all, you know I have a cookbook problem.

Whenever I find myself at a library book sale or used book store, I find myself scouring the cookbooks section.

For one thing, most people have far too many cookbooks. They don’t read them cover to cover, and they don’t use more than one or two standbys in an average year. So for those people, cookbooks are an easy place to declutter when cabinets begin to grow too snug.

Unfortunately, I am exactly the opposite way.

I read cookbooks as though they were novels – or at least magazines – and try to imagine the taste of each set of ingredients.

I dog-ear the pages of the recipes I want to try. I read aloud the ones I am horrified by.

(Yes, my family loves me for this very endearing habit. But I ask you… if YOU ran across a dip recipe that called for both chunky peanut butter and diced pickles, would YOU be able to resist the urge to tell your family about it? No. You could not. And then, of course, you’d need to have a conversation about what types of food one might dip into such a concoction. In a world where almost every question can be answered with a quick Google search, the mysteries of the old cookbook remain. I said what I said.)

For all these reasons, my favorite cookbooks are the ones created by individuals (usually for their families) or groups (usually as fundraisers).

I learn a lot about the history of food when I read the recipes in these cookbooks – which ingredients were so commonplace that they weren’t given a size or weight, but only something like “large can” or “small can” to guide the reader.

And I learn a lot about the values of the group from reading their recipes: are they simple or complex? Do they require specialty ingredients or everyday pantry staples?

I know these kinds of questions don’t keep most people up at night.

They don’t keep me up at night, either, and that’s kind of the point. I can become interested by a single recipe without becoming engrossed by the entire book.

When I read a cookbook at night, I know I’m not going to keep reading into the wee hours of the night and ruin the next day. But I may find something worth trying, and I will definitely feel soothed by the process of reading about foods.

That’s why I snapped up this cookbook when I saw it at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore recently. At only 50 cents, the price was right, and the author, Georgia E. Still, had credited the artist (Chris Still), the editor (Typing for You) and even the binder (Plastikoil of the South) on the front page.

Have I mentioned that I am a sucker for attribution?

I knew I really needed to read the whole book when I saw Ms. Still’s desire to credit all participants in the making of her cookbook.

Y’all. She did not disappoint.

For one thing, she started the book with the section on desserts, and it was extensive. Frankly, I’m here for it. You can be broke as a joke, but I guarantee you’ll feel like royalty if you end the meal with a homemade dessert.

Score one for Ms. Still.

This particular recipe stood out to me because it had a one-word note typed next to it: Delicious! So far, none of the other recipes have included notes of any kind, so I knew this one would probably be a keeper.

But it didn’t hurt that I had all but one ingredient on hand to make it.

Score two for Ms. Still.

So I made one of these to try after supper Sunday evening. When our middle daughter, Zayley, took a bite of it, she rushed into the living room where I was sitting and said, “MOM! You’ve GOTTA make this more often!”

Aaaand score three. Thanks, Ms. Still. You did me a solid.

ICEBOX PIE (DELICIOUS!)

Ingredients
1 graham cracker pie crust (I made mine following the recipe on the side of a can of graham cracker crumbs, which called for 1 1/2 cups crumbs, 1/4 cup sugar, and a stick of melted butter.)
1 can sweetened condensed milk
Juice of 2 lemons (about 1/3 cup juice)
Zest of 1 lemon (optional; this was Julia’s idea)
1 cup frozen fruit, well drained (I used unsweetened whole strawberries, but I will try sliced strawberries next time)
1 cup whipped topping, thawed

Directions
■ Shake can of sweetened condensed milk. Pour it into a mixing bowl. Add lemon juice to milk and stir until well incorporated. Add lemon zest and drained fruit. Stir gently. Fold in whipped topping.
■ Pile mixture into graham cracker crust, smooth top, and cover with plastic wrap or similar. Place pie in refrigerator. Allow to set at least two hours.

Amelia Plair is a mom and high school teacher in Starkville. Email reaches her at [email protected].

Amelia Plair is a Starkville resident who writes occasional food columns.