Recently, as I was digging through a box of things my mother had packed away a few months before she died in 2003, I found a tattered, rotted yellow copy of a cookbook. The cookbook was odd, it had no dust jacket, the spine was nearly undone, there was no cover, and many of the fragile pages were torn or missing. Why had my mother, who’d been so thorough in discarding so many other things, chosen to keep this old book?
I believe she kept this book for its connection to the rich memories of being in the kitchen with her family, but also because many of the recipes had been tried and improved upon by her mother. A cookbook for my mother, I believe, was ultimately about how she could tame the world, it gave her a sense of domestic dominion. My mother wasn't a good or accomplished cook, so recipes offered her a path of predictability and safety, all the more valuable when they had been “proven and tested” by her mother.
Perhaps that is true for all of us. When you follow cooking instructions carefully, you know you can avoid the burnt and sour, you can maximize success, and make everything more palatable. Recipes teach you something about how you view the world and how to diminish exposure to the bitter taste of the unforeseen. In short, recipes can bring one a sense of control over the forces of epicurean chaos.
Nevertheless, recipes, if followed as if there were no other options, no other improvisational spices to add to the broth, can prevent us from cultivating new tastes, creating new dishes or other gastronomical delights. If we never open the spice drawer, we may miss the opportunity to test, and perhaps trust our own skills, or to develop a sense of adventure and flexibility.
When we are building a new business, a career, or a new project, the temptation is to head to the bookstore, or find an expert that will share the secret recipe of success with us. We all want to fill our margins with good ideas, techniques and sales skills that give us a sense of confidence as we pursue success. Reading success literature and being mentored are important steps in building a resilient business, but they can just as easily undermine your confidence and sense of personal creativity. If we read all the books, develop the perfect presentation, refine our abilities to ask all the right questions and are prepared with all the correct answers, we’ve left little room for our own voice.
It’s important to have knowledge and to be an expert on what we do, but it’s also important to balance that with a taste for the unexpected and unknown. When we embrace the unexpected and eschew the unrealistic need to have an answer for everything, our approach becomes more humane, direct and authentic. Dealing with breakdowns and challenges by trusting our instincts and the willingness to be vulnerable will keep us present and involved, and we'll feel more accessible and “real." If we simply call on the experts to give us the answers, we may miss the chance to create a new expert in you.
When you are cooking up something fresh, building a new project, taking on a new commitment, don’t feel as if you always have to follow the success recipes of those who’ve gone before you. Instead, view the experts and the advice as you would a spice rack, each a flavor all their own, and each will change the outcome. It’s up to you to develop your pallet, to experiment and try-out ideas of your own. In the end you may be surprised to find you are the only expert you have been looking for.