The recipe rumble

One of the things I’m doing more often now that I’m older is baking. Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes it’s a little more challenging.

I recently tried to follow a recipe I found online for gourmet cookies. It looked easy enough—just a few steps, a nice photo, and a promise of “foolproof results.” I pulled it up on my tablet, set it on the counter and got to work.

That’s when the chaos began.

First of all, the page kept scrolling on its own. I’d be in the middle of reading step two, and suddenly I’d be staring at an ad for air fryers or a pop-up asking if I wanted to subscribe. No, I do not want your newsletter—I just want to know when to add the freeze dried strawberries.

Then there was the classic trap: the ingredients were at the top, and the instructions were way down below. So I kept scrolling back and forth, trying to remember if it was one teaspoon or one tablespoon of cocoa powder. I must’ve done that loop five times.

Then there was the measurement memory game. I’d read “1 ¾ cups of flour,” walk to the pantry, forget the number, walk back, re-read it, walk back to the pantry, forgot it again. Who knew you could hit your daily step goal without leaving the kitchen.

And of course, halfway through mixing everything, I realized I’d missed a key instruction—because it was on a separate tab labeled “Tips.” Apparently, I was supposed to chill the dough for an hour before baking. Too late. My cookies were already in the oven. My fingers were crossed.

In the end, my gourmet cookies spread too thin, lost their shape, and lacked the chewy texture the recipe had promised—all because the dough hadn’t been chilled. It was a simple oversight with a big impact, and a perfect reminder that in baking, as in communication, skipping steps or missing details can lead to disappointing results.

Just as reading a full recipe ensures each ingredient and instruction is understood in context, effective communication requires listening fully before responding.