Why You Need To Ditch That Recipe

   Written by: Lorenzo Tan

    Whenever I’d go out for dinner with my Lola, it was inevitable that, at some point in the meal, she’d say “Ay, kaya ko to lutuin sa bahay!” The sentiment never came from dissatisfaction or boastfulness, like you’d imagine. My Lola always mentioned this with joy, like a eureka-esque energy. Nonetheless, it would annoy me to no end. Why would we eat out if she could recreate whatever it was we ordered? I knew she could, and have witnessed this a number of times, but I didn’t want any of that sass anyway.

I get it now, though. The first time I caught myself saying the exact same thing was when my dad had me attempt my first Sweet and Sour Pork, and I ran out of the packed sauce we got from the Asian aisle. The prideful aspiring cook in me refused to look up a recipe. There I was, concocting this Frankenstein mix of ketchup, sweet chili sauce, soy sauce, sugar, and vinegar, in hopes that I could successfully improvise more sauce, since I had run out. It wasn’t completely on the mark, but I was immensely proud of the flavor I achieved with a bit of reverse engineering.

You see, I encountered the term agak agak (Malay for “estimate” or “more or less”) on the Asian Food Network once, and it changed my entire outlook on kitchen life. My mom and dad didn’t follow cookbooks, and my Lola never wrote her recipes down, so I learned to cook with no reference aside from what I found delicious. Exact measurements didn’t matter as much to us as understanding the proportions of the ingredients we used, and why they worked together. 

Following recipes and references are still important. So many chefs care enough to have come before us and make our lives easier by plotting out exactly how to cook our favorite dishes. They’ve done the experimenting and failing for us, and all we have to do is follow their steps, especially if this is your first time attempting certain flavors. Or maybe there’s a certain way your family’s been preparing your roast chicken for Sunday family gatherings, and you want that specific flavor. Perhaps you specifically want to try Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon, so by all means, go for it. 

My family taught me that it’s okay to leave that desire for assurance at the door, and let your curiosity and creativity take the helm. Yeah, you’ll make mistakes along the way, but that’s half of the fun in the kitchen.

Are you trying to fry up some kimchi rice? Check for the list of ingredients you need, but stop right before you get to how many teaspoons of sesame oil, or how much salt you need. This is an open invitation to taste everything you’re putting into that pan and seeing how much of each ingredient you want to taste. 

Maybe you’re thinking: “Hey, not everyone has that kind of food or cooking sense.” Actually, I agree, but that’s also what I’m advocating for. Massimo Bottura, renowned Italian restaurateur and owner of Osteria Francescana makes such a big deal about developing your palate. Whatever you enjoy cooking, no matter what flavors you incorporate, has to come with an inkling of your own identity. 

This comes from you determining what you find delicious. Do you like more spice? Maybe you don’t appreciate rich and hearty as much as simple and clean? Ask yourself what it is about your favorite foods that you love so much. What’s so comforting about your go-to stress meals? Why do you gravitate towards your favorite celebration meal or treat? 

Your preferences go hand in hand with a fundamental grasp of flavor and ingredients. Start with your salt, pepper, garlic, onions, and soy sauce, among others. Sure, it’s easy to tackle a craving by searching for a recipe online, but that just adds a single notch to your culinary belt. Instead, try thinking of all the flavors and processes you can identify in the dish you’re trying to make, and internalizing how it came to be. It’s like studying music theory; you’re not just placing your fingers on specific keys like following a diagram, you’re following a certain process to produce the sound you want.

It’s like how every family does adobo in their own special way. Or, sure, maybe 96% of the households in this country use the same flavor mix for their sinigang, but there are a hundred different ways to go about cooking and flavoring the meat, choosing what vegetables to use, and calibrating the saltiness, or sourness of the soup. We won’t always have the exact same ingredients or equipment. Even if we followed the same guides, we wouldn’t come up with the exact same dish. That’s when palate and preference come in to take those dishes from replicas to truly our own creations.

I’m not going for the eradication of recipes and guides from your headspace. I’ll still look up a step by step on how to make traditional carbonara, or what goes in Korean fried chicken batter when the craving hits. I’m saying we need to see these recipes and cookbooks we’ve grown accustomed to as reference points, or suggestions instead of absolute dogma. This way, you’re moving past following someone who’s cooked before you, and taking the opportunity to add a new technique or ingredient to your culinary vocabulary. 

What I once thought was boastfulness on my Lola’s part was actually simple curious delight. It was cool because something in her head clicked and figured out what she was tasting. It’s an incomparable feeling that I recommend you seek out by paying close attention to the food you cook and eat. You never know, because you might mess around and discover an entirely new dish. All it takes is an open mind and an appetite for seeking brand new ways to appreciate the food in front of you. 

Written by: Lorenzo Tan