From the blog “Change It Up!”
By Sarah Ortiz
I don’t use measurements. I use my taste buds. I use my eyes. I use my nose. During NFL season (Go Colts), Sundays are extreme cooking days at Dad’s. He calls himself the “Mad Creator” (therefore, I am a Mad Creator), as we explore multiple variations of cooking.
Food exploration is innate, embedded in my soul. Everything is tried once. Everything is considered. Nothing is off limits.
In my younger days, my mother used to make the same thing day-in and day-out. Baked chicken. The sides varied, the main course did not alter.
Growing up, I lost my appetite for chicken all together. While learning to cook, I experimented with whatever I had. If chicken was the only meat in the house, I would look for different spices to vary the taste, I would look for marinating sauces. If there was a 7Up or Sprite in the fridge, I would find ways to implement the flavoring with a sauce (note to self: revisit 7Up Teriyaki in near future). Anything was better than baked chicken. Nothing was off limits.
Finding which flavors meshed well, which did not, works of art and atrocities were created. Never once did I write down an actual recipe for the mad creations.
Measurements, involving measuring tools, were nonexistent. The hunger in my eyes controlled the flavor results.
Once I found my likes and my dislikes, my taste buds took over the measurements. Teaching myself, watching others, cooking became second nature.
Getting stuck — not being able to think of what to do with different ingredients — struck often. My resort: www.food.com.
Trying a new recipe, I followed directions to the T. I dusted off the measuring spoons and cups for these. After the first time, the chains came off. Putting recipes to the test, I began adding, subtracting, manipulating until…well, it never stopped. However, I never write down my changes.
After many years of self-studying the art of cooking, the measuring spoons and cups only come out when baking and trying unfamiliar entrees.
A few days ago, I tried my hand at Tortilla Crusted Tilapia. Glancing at the ingredients (corn tortillas, cilantro, lime, chili powder, seasoning salt, jalapeno, cumin), I let my taste preferences lead the way.
My neighbor, and honorary taste tester, thoroughly enjoyed the intense cilantro flavor of the moist crust which enveloped the light fish. He asked if I could make it again. I, honestly replied, “No.” He asked why not. I said “I don’t know how much of each ingredient I used. I can make Tortilla Crusted Tilapia again, but it may not have the same taste as it does now.”
Two minutes later, our plates were wiped clean.
Recipes are designed to follow, use as a starting point, manipulate. Let’s change it up to fit personal flavors. Let’s get cooking!
