02/05: Cooking up love?

Around this time of year, you can’t walk into a store, go online or turn on your television without being reminded that the most sacred of all Hallmark holidays is fast approaching–Valentine’s Day.  I have to make it past a gauntlet of every imaginable variation of bright pink and red hearts to get the dairy case or paper towel aisle at the supermarket (okay, maybe not so much if I could afford to shop at Whole Paycheck).  Yes, and I too join into the act, baking endless pans of red velvet cupcakes and hand-decorating dozens of heart-shaped cookies for those eager to ply their sweetie (or potential sweetie) with some fancy sugar to set the mood.  It’s all very romantic.  Unless you are unattached, then it all seems like a bunch of hype, or worst an indictment of your singleton status–kind of like that scene in Bridget Jones’ Diary when Bridget has to endure dinner with a bunch of “smug marrieds” who repeatedly question her ability to find a mate.

Wouldn’t it be great if there really was a recipe for love?  Some fool-proof magic formula that yielded the most gratifying, warm, intoxicating feelings of joy and passion that lasted a lifetime?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about concocting some kind of “love potion”–that stuff resides squarely in the cheesy realm of  the movies (remember Love Potion No.9?).  Besides they always ends up biting the user in the ass anyways.

We all have a mental shopping list of things we want in the ideal partner.  Some of those things can be seen as primary ingredients, like intelligence, sense of humor, or kindness.  Other things are variable, such as seasonings or as a friend of mine likes to say “your flava”–tall, dark, blond, athletic, built, lean, vanilla, chocolate, artistic, etc.   What if you could come up with a relationship recipe of just the right combination of ingredients, measured and mixed under the right conditions, that would always yield the perfect outcome?  What if it were just as easy as creating the perfect chocolate cake or the best pie crust?

Crazy idea, I know.  I was in the midst of perusing the latest issue of Cook’s Illustrated–waiting for my Valentine’s Day cookies to bake no less–when I came across an article about unlocking the mystery of the baking the best chewiest brownie.  I won’t go into the details of how the writer went about his investigation.  Suffice it to say it involved a hell of a lot of scientific research and experimentation, not to mention seemingly endless pans of brownies.  It got me thinking about whether or not one could apply the same principles to finding the right person and creating the perfect relationship–if you had all the basic ingredients in front of you.

Well, first of all, as great as a recipe may seem, ultimately it is the skill of the baker or cook that determines the outcome of the dish.  Some people are really adept at following directions and can usually produce a decent dish.  Whether it is exceptional is pretty subjective.  Does it make them happy?  Some people may follow the general idea of the recipe but like to improvise as they go along, throwing in a pinch of salt or a dash of cinnamon.  It may not seem to go with the dish, but then happy accidents do happen–the problem is if you don’t pay attention to the process you may not remember how to recreate the magic.  And then there are those who are impatient for the dish to cook, turning up the heat to hurry things along only to ruin it–I’ve been guilty of that.

Yes, a recipe is a nice idea.  But human beings, unlike a butter, eggs, and chocolate, are volatile, wonderfully unpredictable substances.  We are always changing, adjusting to the environment around us.  We can’t be measured, mixed, or manipulated, though we frequently try–often to unsavory results.  Better to leave that for the chocolate cake.

Posted February 5th, 2010

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