A couple of months ago, one of my authors asked me for advice. They’d been looking through a newly released cookbook and noticed that one of the recipes in it was too close for comfort to one of their own that they’d published online in 2017.
I asked them to send me a picture of the recipe in the book and their original. Sure enough, the ingredients and quantities were exactly the same. It also had the same number of steps as my author’s recipe, but the method had been slightly rewritten.
“So here’s the deal,” I replied. “When it comes to recipes, you can’t copyright the ingredients list. The only things that are protected are the intro and the method instructions, and they have in fact rewritten those. If it had been a straight-up copy and paste job, you’d have the publisher over a barrel. But even though it seems pretty clear that they have effectively copied your recipe, it’s been rewritten enough that you don’t have any legal recourse.”
So what could they do about it?
“You would be well within your rights to flag your concerns about the similarities between the two recipes with the publisher, but what are you hoping the outcome of that might be?” I asked.
My author acknowledged that there really was no good outcome here. The publisher was hardly going to pull the book from sale. In the end, they decided to grit their teeth and not say anything.
I was reminded of this last week when reading about the controversy in Australia where food writer Nagi Maehashi has accused Brooke Bellamy of plagiarising two of her recipes in Bellamy’s new cookbook, Bake with Brooki.1 A second food writer, Sally McKenny, has also accused Bellamy of plagiarising one of her recipes.2
As a cookbook publisher, this kind of thing is my worst nightmare (this, and the prospect of exploding churros).
Unfortunately, these kinds of allegations aren’t new. In one of the most recent (and, frankly, blatant) examples, in 2021, London chef Elizabeth Haigh’s debut cookbook, Makan, was withdrawn after numerous reports of material being lifted from other sources.3
Recipe copyright FAQs
Let’s go through a few common questions and misperceptions about recipes and copyright.
If you change three things, is the recipe yours now?
I’m not sure where this “rule” came from, but it’s more like a rule of thumb. And even then, “those changes need to be more substantial than changing 1/2 teaspoon salt to 1/4 teaspoon”4 and you should still credit the original source.
Like I told my author, when it comes to copyright law, you can’t copyright a list of ingredients, but the instructions and intros can be copyrighted. Think about how Nigella Lawson, Ina Garten and Darina Allen might all write a recipe for, say, soda bread, made with the same four or five ingredients, but each written in their own distinctive voice and with their own unique story prefacing the recipe. That’s what can’t be copied.
If you’re a paid subscriber and have read the pro tips that I’ve shared, following the advice in those tips will go a long way in ensuring a recipe is distinctly yours, even if it’s for something as basic or commonplace as soda bread or sponge cake.
Here’s a brief roundup of further reading on this topic of adaptation and attribution:
‘When is a recipe yours? And when does “inspiration” become something else entirely?’, Sue Quinn,
, 04 May 2025‘How to correctly attribute a recipe’, Food Blogger Pro, 26 January 2023
‘Who Owns a Recipe? A Plagiarism Claim Has Cookbook Authors Asking’, New York Times, 29 November 2021
- , ‘Recipe attribution’, 10 October 2014 (which in turn has an excellent list of further reading)
‘The complicated case of the simple cookie’, LA Times, 17 December 2012
- , ‘Adapting a recipe doesn’t make it yours’, 17 March 2010
‘Making a recipe “yours” requires more than just a pinch of salt’, Charlotte Observer, 3 September 2008
If it’s online, is it free game?
So many people think that just because something is online – whether it’s a Wikipedia entry, a recipe or an image – it’s free game and free to use. This is not true!
Much of the material that’s published online is still protected by copyright.5 If in doubt, err on the side of caution and ask permission to use the material in your own work, and always give credit.
Shouldn’t the publisher/copyeditor have caught it?
All publishing, no matter what genre, is based on the assumption that the work submitted by the author is their own original work – and that it’s true. (Remember the Belle Gibson scandal?6)
But it’s more than just a matter of trust. It’s a contractual requirement.
The contract for Nine Bean Rows/Blasta Books has a clause that states:
the Work shall be original and previously unpublished save where notified by you to us and approved by us in writing and/or save where comprising third-party elements which have been identified to us by you and cleared or approved by us in accordance with sub-clause 8.4;
Where authors knowingly include a recipe from another source, we have a third-party recipe clearance form that we ask the original source to sign, which in turn includes this line:
I warrant that the Recipes are original in the sense they are not copied from any previously published recipes and they contain features and elements that are unique to me.
In addition to these contractual clauses, we also issue author guidelines that we ask authors to sign verifying that they have read them, not least because of this part, which appears just like this in the guidelines document, with bold, red all caps and highlighted in yellow. Can you tell I’m not exaggerating when I say this kind of thing keeps me up at night?
As for saying the copyeditor should have caught it, editors often get thrown under the bus in times like this. But that shows a lack of understanding of what a copyeditor’s job is. The copyeditor is checking a hundred and one things when they go through a manuscript, but it’s all based on the assumption that they are dealing with an original piece of work. Even fact-checking can only get you so far.
Michael Szczerban, the editorial director of Voracious, an imprint of Little, Brown and Company, said it is not the editor’s job to be an authority on the cookbook’s subject. “It is my role, I feel, to read critically, to ask questions, to help illuminate for an author areas they might not have thought through,” he said. Authors are chosen for their expertise, and are contractually required to submit original work.7
It’s only a recipe, what’s the big deal?
Reading through some of the comments on the Maehashi–Bellamy controversy, a common theme cropped up: “It’s only a recipe, who cares?”
How is a recipe different than an original song, a poem or a piece of art? Would you have the same “who cares” attitude if one of those was plagiarised?
And I’ve written before about the sexist streak inherent in this attitude of it “only” being a recipe and why that’s problematic.8
What lessons can be learned?
At the end of the day, I don’t think the vast majority of food writers intentionally copy other writers’ recipes through ill will. I think it’s because they’re ill informed. If there can be a silver lining from this situation, perhaps it’s that food writers will be more aware of this issue and why it matters.
The consensus seems to be that all this could be avoided if you do just one thing: give credit.
Whether it’s by saying your recipe is adapted from or inspired by someone else’s and/or by linking to the original source if publishing online, give credit where credit is due.
If it’s a recipe you found in a cookbook, magazine, online or even inspired by a meal you ate in a restaurant, you’ll never go wrong if you acknowledge the source of your inspiration.
That’s all Maehashi asked for. In her statement on her website9, she writes, “Brooke – It didn’t have to be like this. If you had asked for permission, I would have given it and, knowing me, proudly promoted your book on launch. It costs nothing to credit.”
As Maya Angelou said, and to echo Maehashi’s own closing words in her statement:
When you know better, do better.
‘When you see your recipes in a $4 million book’, Recipe Tin Eats, 29 April 2025
I’m Kristin Jensen, the founder, publisher and editor at Blasta Books and Nine Bean Rows. Before I started my publishing house, I was a freelance editor and food writer for over 20 years and I’ve co-authored three books. I pretty much eat, sleep and breathe books and food. You can also find me on Instagram @edibleireland.📚