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They came from a place called Elana’s Cove—a crumbling cottage on a fog-drenched stretch of Maine coast that had belonged to her great-grandmother, also named Elana. The old woman had been a recluse, a self-taught herbalist, and—according to family lore—a little touched in the head. She’d left behind dozens of leather-bound journals filled with recipes for things like “seaweed scones” and “rosehip custard.” No sugar. No flour. Just wild ingredients foraged from cliffs and tide pools.

She stopped laughing.

When the younger Elana inherited the cottage in her twenties, she was broke, recently diagnosed with celiac disease, and desperate. She opened the first journal and found a recipe for “dune almond crackers.” She baked them. They were transcendent. elanaspantry.com