Life is not a Recipe; It's a Story
I was born into this world with a preference for recipes. I like their predictability. Their parameters. Their right apportionment. When faced with a pantry of overwhelming options, a seasoning shelf with dozens of options, and then tastebuds that just want to be sure this thing is passable - truly, there is something wonderfully on-point about a recipe.
And so I once did three of four years where I regularly grilled this honey-mustard marinated chicken in exactly the way that the Weber Master Grille book told me to do it. 1/2 teaspoon this. 2 tablespoons that. Marinade in the fridge for this many hours. Temperature just so on the grill for this exact amount of minutes. Then flip. Then three more minutes.
It was solid.
I had another five year stretch where I did this salad with spinach leaves, strawberries and feta cheese complete with a special dressing that I recall included a bit of orange juice. That one came straight out of a Williams-Sonoma compilation.
Solid.
Two years ago on Instagram I saw Tom Brady introduce the smoothie he has every single morning. It’s a blueberry-and-banana which includes just the right apportionments of almond butter, chia seeds, walnuts, protein powder, almond milk, and hemp milk. I measured it perfectly.
And yes, solid.
But, do you know the single commonality of the very best meals I have ever had?
None of them had a recipe.
I remember while my friend Josh was grilling a simple cut of steak, he bent down and leaned his head sideways to interpret the color of the meat as it lay upon the fire.
I recall when he did the side of veggies he did not have any fancy sauces or off-the-shelf spice mixtures. His primary ingredient was freshly ground salt, and even there, the apportionment was not done with spoon measurements.
Josh pulled forth from a small, wood bowl a few salt crystals with his thumb and pointer finger. He then drew the them into his palm, and slowly unfurled his fingers and let the crystals fall upon the veggies like he was releasing flavor-summoning magic - only everybody could see the entire trick even as none of us were going to be able to replicate it.
Sometimes cookbooks invite a “dash,” “drizzle,” or “pinch” of this of that, and I think what their imprecise language invites is for us to have hands like Josh - nimble and intuitive with a deft release of that which will draw out the full flavor of a meal. It’s the cookbook’s nod to the fact that in the end cooking is far more art than science.
Josh had no recipe. He’d simply cooked enough in the kitchen that he learned to trust his senses:
the feel of a pot stirring just now into its full creaminess
the smell of fresh herbs
The look of blackened lines forming along the grilling meat as they begin declaring ‘Perfect! Now! No more!’
The sound of fresh crispness signaled with each chop of the vegetable
The taste of a spicy kick that will delight even the most Midwestern of taste buds
That’s the thing about the best cooks.
They are not overwhelmed by the pantry of options, the overzealous spice rack, or the hundreds of ways that a meal could or should be cooked. Nor are they tempted by the easy formula, even if provided by the reputable likes of Weber, Williams-Sonoma or The Celebrity of the moment.
The best cooks are at ease in the kitchen because they trust their senses. They are at home with an intuition honed through the experience of many, many meals. And they know that if they cook from that particular place, they will offer a singularly delicious meal.
And, really, is it not so different in life?
If we are breathing, we are cooking - and I would bet a good many of us were born into a world with a preference for recipes.
Here are some big-name standards in some of my circles (recognizing everybody’s circle has variations on these):
The Oldest Child Recipe - 3 parts follow the rules, 2 parts responsible, 2 parts don’t fail, 1 part cautious, and 1 part needing to be in control (boy can I cook a truly solid version of this!)
The Career Ladder Recipe - 3 parts networking, 3 parts hustle, 2 parts good school or certification, and 2 parts prioritizing ‘moving up’ as central value
The Good Person Recipe - 3 parts polite, 2 parts don’t break the law, 2 parts don’t offend, 2 parts decent manners, and 2 parts helpful.
The Good Life Recipe - 3 parts get into a good school, 3 parts get married, 3 parts have children and raise them well, 3 parts have a good career, 3 parts do good for your church and community, 3 parts avoid any major scandal, failure, or shame, and 3 parts retire with secure financial resources.
The Celebrity/Big Name Recipe - 3 parts follow their fashion, 2 parts follow their advice, 1 part attempt to copy their story.
Any default recipes for your life?
I do imagine we all have a handful of tried-and-true recipes we’ve put to good use because there is something comforting in their predictability and parameters. Especially in the face of overwhelming possibilities and challenges, cookbooks become quite attractive - Someone just tell me what to do and who to be!
Still…
I can’t help but think a good number of us have lived just long enough to recognize that life at its truest and best is…
Far less recipe, and far more story.
Far less script, and far more improv.
Far less formula, and far more faith.
Far less 1/2 teaspoon, and far more dash, drizzle, and pinch.
It’s about taking one step at time, learning the touch, smell, sight, sound, and taste of each of those steps, and then harnessing that wisdom for the next step. And the next.
In time, we find in our home life or hobby or work or elsewhere that we do know something of what it feels like to offer a nimble, intuitive, and deft unfurling of salt upon veggies and have others say, “magic!”
Of course, by then we know better.
That motion is what a life looks like…
When it learns to trust the God-given intuitions.
When it learns to harness the wisdom of past meals.
When it finally comes listens to the genuine within.1
Recipes for are fine (well, sometimes). But the meals that most sustain my soul today mostly came through lives not tethered to them - lives that risked an improv story of faith, dash and pinch.
And I am likewise confident that all of us have within us meals for the world that flow like magic. What are yours?
“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.” - Howard Thurman