A black linen napkin made the chicken pop.
After ruffling a white towel over a square of rustic wooden planks, Rachel Ingber thought better of it and grabbed the darker cloth from the hallway "prop closet" in her Plymouth home. She set it with a casual billow next to an All-Clad casserole dish holding a char-flecked roast chicken so plump it was practically hanging over the edges, and snapped a photo from above.
Moments later the picture appeared on a laptop screen. The chicken, surrounded by blackened lemon halves with a bunch of fresh green herbs peeking out of it, looked so good you could practically taste it.
"Winner?" Ingber asked her client and friend, Sarah Sherman. "Winner winner, chicken dinner," Sherman answered.
The photo shoot was one of several sessions between the two that will ultimately become a keepsake cookbook preserving the recipes of Sherman's late mother.
Ingber is a book photographer and designer, and her business, Heirloom Collaborative, specializes in food. Clients meet with her over the course of weeks or months to flesh out a vision for a personal collection of recipes that, when printed, will be a hardbound and glossy cookbook, one that could stand up to any anthology of recipes found on a Barnes & Noble shelf.
There are ghostwriters who can craft you a biography, or research your family history. You can hire a songwriter to make an original piece of music on your behalf. Want to be portrayed as the main character in a pulpy detective novel? For the right price, you'll find an author. But Ingber's lane is different. The self-professed "cookbook addict" creates a volume that connects to history and memory in a visceral way: through tastes, smells and mouthwatering food photography.
"Food is such an emotional thing for families," said Ingber, 34. "It brings me so much joy to hear the stories and preserve these recipes."