First, I’d like to answer the one question everyone (OK, three people) has asked me since I published my column last week: are you vegan? No, I am not currently vegan. I did eat a vegan diet for about a year back in 2008. Since then, I try to eat vegan meals whenever I can, but it’s a difficult lifestyle to maintain especially when your other half always asks, “Is this just vegetables?” with a look of disdain on his face. Writing about veganism could take all day, so I’ll save that topic for another time.

For now, let’s focus on perfectionism.

I’ve come to understand that being perfect is a ludicrous idea, but this is a new development. I am the typical oldest child—over-achieving, bossy, conscientious. In high school, academics came easily to me, and as time went on, I became used to being able to do things well on my first attempt. That is not to say that I was scoring a 1600 on my SATs (back in the olden days when a 1600 was the perfect score), or attaining all A’s in six AP courses. I was putting forth minimal effort for maximum reward. To me, a 90% was pretty darn good, especially since I hadn’t studied at all.

Then I made a new friend. He came from a family of chefs. Not professional chefs, but a family that seemed to intuitively know what foods went well together, how long to cook them, and which seasonings to use. They had all been responsible for cooking and through trial and error, learned how to do it well. He rarely followed a recipe; rather, he cooked from instinct. If something went awry, he just shrugged, said, “Well, there’s always take-out!”, and used his mess as a stepping-stone to getting it right.

How hard could cooking really be? I asked myself. Sure of my abilities and ready to whip up an amazing dish, I offered to cook dinner for us. I figured I would start with something easy—spaghetti with meatballs and homemade sauce.

Here is the short version of that story: we called for take-out.

Discouraged, I didn’t cook again for a long time. Failure was something I was not used to, and to be honest, I didn’t quite know how to handle a set-back. I didn’t turn on the oven again until my friend purchased copy of The Joy of Cooking for my Christmas gift with “So you can ‘cook’ more than just spaghetti” as the inscription.

I started small. Boiling water. Knife skills. Reading the entire recipe before beginning. And soon, I was cooking. Letting go of my intense need to be perfect was not easy. It took time, and patience. I probably cried a little. But I didn’t give up. I modified and adjusted. I tried, and I erred. Even now there will be nights when, after one bite, Mr. Weizer and I look at each other across the dining room table and simultaneously take our plates to the sink. There is a pizza joint right around the corner and we frequent it often, but I don’t get upset about it. Well, sometimes I still do.

These messes in the kitchen only help me get better. After all, in the words of Charles Kettering, “One fails towards success.” Years of never failing didn’t lead to success—they led to stagnation. I was stuck in the familiar and comfortable, the fear of failure holding me back from trying anything new. And we all do ourselves a disservice if we never make messes or find 1,000 wrong ways to complete a task. Because then we’d never reach our full potential in the kitchen, or in the classroom.

When students say, “But I can’t get an ‘F’!”, I say, “Well, you already have, so you’ve obviously learned the wrong way to do it. Now you should be able to find success.” No life worth living is found along the path of least resistance. Our best and brightest have struggled and failed, but they never stopped trying. I hope that I, and you, never stop failing towards success.

This week’s recipe was invented in my first real kitchen. It’s a crowd-pleaser and easy to adapt to your own taste. Simply take out the turkey to make it vegan. Additionally, you could substitute soy crumbles. Remember to read the entire recipe before you begin and don’t worry if you mess up. There’s always take-out tonight, and another attempt tomorrow!

My Simple Made-Up Chili Recipe

Tools:

Chef’s knife, cutting board, soup/stock/pasta pot, strainer, can opener, wooden spoon

Ingredients:

Olive oil, one turn around the pan (about 1 Tbsp)

1 onion, finely chopped

2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped or put through a press

1 jalapeno, finely chopped (seeds and ribs removed if you’re sensitive to heat)

1 pound of ground turkey

A big palmful of chili powder (probably 2 Tbsp)

A smaller palmful of cumin (about 1 Tbsp)

A palmful of paprika (about 1 Tbsp)

2 cans of beans, rinsed and drained (I prefer black or kidney)

2 peppers, chopped (red, yellow, green, or orange)

24 oz. can of crushed tomatoes

Salt (1 tsp) and pepper (1/2 tsp)

Directions:

1. Set the pot over medium heat. Swirl the olive oil into the pan.
2. Drop the onion, garlic, and jalapeno into the pan. Cook, stirring often, until the onions are translucent, about 6 or 7 minutes.
3. Add the turkey to the pan and break up with the wooden spoon. Cook until no longer pink.
4. Sprinkle the spices over the turkey, including salt and pepper. Make sure everything is mixed well.
5. Add the beans, peppers, and tomatoes. Bring to a boil. Lower the heat to simmer, cover, and cook for 30 minutes.
6. Taste for seasonings and adjust if necessary. Serve with cheddar cheese, sour cream, and tortilla chips.