Why Don’t You Just Follow the Recipe?

I left work early because I had a couple of doctor’s appointments, and on the way I decided to stop and pick up a few ingredients so I could make my version of a recipe that had been on my mind: Pasta Fagioli — or Pasta Fazool.

I probably shouldn’t even call it that, because no doubt Italian chefs everywhere would pull out their hair and make all those hand signs at me, which — frankly — I don’t really want translated. That’s because, as I’ve already hinted, I made it my way. Otherwise, what’s the point?

If you’ve read my posts before, you know I like to dabble. A little creativity wakes me up from the power-saving mode I seem to be running on most of the time.

And whenever I improvise in the kitchen, people get nervous.

“Did you look up a recipe?”

Or worse:

“Why don’t you just follow the recipe?”

There’s often a tone to that question. Sometimes even a facial expression. It suggests I’m not cooking dinner so much as conducting an unauthorized science experiment.

But let’s be honest. A lot of wonderful food probably came into existence because someone, somewhere, did not follow the recipe — mainly because there wasn’t one.

Maybe:

a) Someone accidentally grabbed the wrong plant.
“They look almost the same.”

b) Someone thought they were funny and deliberately grabbed the wrong plant.
“Hot! Hee hee.”

c) The right ingredient wasn’t available.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”

d) Or someone simply got tired of eating the same leaves, grubs, roots, and miscellaneous critters every day and decided to improve things.

And that got me thinking about the very first person who ever tried to improve a meal — and the first person standing nearby telling him he was doing it wrong.

And the pasta fazool experiment? It worked out well enough that I decided to share the Pasta Fazool — à la Bert recipe.