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PETRONA

Recipe for an unlimited number of persons:

How many characteristics is it possible to add to a font, without changing its text type genre? Petrona is inspired by every home’s cook, who playfully maneuvers ingredients and decors with a personal touch, without derailing from the original recipe.

This font has been created like in the kitchen, with sharp elements that forge its structure and with gestural strokes for finishing features.

Isolated, its glyphs are just ingredients. Caps with heavy asymmetric serifs, and arms of inverted angles, offer a certain flavor. Lower cases with great “x” height, pronounced ascenders and soft curves of low contrast, offer a different flavor. When combined in a word, they reveal a contemporary bite. They get lost when mingled in a paragraph, to integrate again into a new menu which is proposed by the text.

Petrona’s expression evokes a personal culinary style; its numbers of uniform height include fractions to describe ingredients. This is why connoisseurs recommend it for culinary texts. But taste and creativity are personal, for which every one will apply it according to their own preference.

The font’s description on the other web font directories.

Designed by Ringo Romei, released under SIL Open Font License, 1.1

BEWARE ! Petrona only exists in Regular, we used html marks <li></li> to make it slanted — not suitable for those of a sensitive typografic disposition.



If you are still hungry, here is a receipe of the stoemp by Femke Snelting


STOEMP


Stoemp or Stamppot, a dish traditionally served in the low countries during wintertime is named after it's mode rather than after it's ingredients. There exist as many variations as there are vegetables you could imagine mixing with potatoes, but they all have one thing in common: the cadential 'stoempen' needed to pulverize the ingredients into an unctuous mush.

Peel and roughly chop potatoes. Wash the vegetables carefully, then slice fairly finely. Place all ingredients in a large stock pot, and add water to barely cover. Cover with lid, bring to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes until the vegetables are tender. Drain well, then mash. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve with gravy or butter.

Transforming the act of cooking into a recipe requires digitization, making physical gestures discrete from the continuous. The assumed reproducibility of such an instructive text relies on a reference system of pre-defined processes, moulded into predictable grammar and self-explanatory structures.

Peel, chop, wash, slice, place, add, cover, boil, simmer, drain, mash, season, serve.

Luce Giard reminds us of the meaningful monotony of housework, conforming to expectation while carefully avoiding boredom: “under the silent and repetitive system of everyday servitudes that one carries out by habit, the mind elsewhere, in a series of mechanically executed operations whose sequence follows a traditional design dissimulated under the mask of the obvious, there piles up a subtle montage of gestures, rites, and codes, of rhythms and choices, of received usage and practiced customs.”[1] Does she like kale, carrots, endives? Did we eat this already, yesterday? How can I make it fit his diet? What is available at this time of year? What is left over from yesterday?

In software production, the use of conventions is encouraged so that programmers can 'enjoy' the benefits of automated behavior. Valorizing convention over configurability, is only one of the techniques applied to make software writing more efficient. Duplication of information increases the difficulty to change, may decrease clarity, and leads to opportunities for inconsistency. But the act of producing a redundancy-free program invariably involves highly repetitive, iterative attempts and alterations.

They might share many more imagined similarities, but it is the accumulations of repetition that define the practice of cooking as much as coding. Both rely on mixing familiar gestures with yet unfamiliar ones, and through experience we learn that some forms of repetition might be less redundant than others.

1. Luce Giard, Michel de Certeau, Pierre Mayol. The Practice of Everyday Life: living and cooking, University of Minnesota Press, 1998.



Femke Snelting, in Open Sauces Reader, FoAM, March 2009.