The Spoon Test: Learning to Trust Your Palate
If I had to name one habit that makes the biggest difference in how I cook, it wouldn’t be knife skills, fancy equipment, or even the quality of the ingredients. It would be this: tasting as I go.
 
															Some days cooking feels like a slog and you need a little something extra to make your meal sing. The good news is you don’t need to spend hours in the kitchen – or restaurant-grade equipment – to create that sense of “oof, that’s special.” A few small, homemade tricks can transform an ordinary meal into something you’re proud to serve (or savour quietly on the couch by yourself). Here are four that never fail me.
Butter is already a gift, but mix in a few extras and it becomes something spectacular.
How to make it:
Use it on: warm bread, grilled fish, steamed greens, or a humble jacket potato. One pat melts and suddenly dinner feels intentional.
Perfect with a glass of wine, scattered on a salad, or tucked into lunchboxes.
How to make them:
Use them for: snacking straight from the jar, topping a roast veggie dish, or giving a salad some crunch.
 
															Bright, tangy, crunchy—these pink ribbons instantly wake up a plate.
How to make it:
Use them on: tacos, grain bowls, charcuterie boards, or even a fried-egg sandwich. They add colour and zing wherever they land.
A drizzle of green-gold oil looks impressive and tastes even better.
How to make it:
Use it on: grilled meats, roasted vegetables, poached eggs, or even a simple tomato salad. It’s like summer in a bottle.
None of these are essential. Dinner will still happen without them. But these little extras are more than decoration; they bring a sense of care and delight to the everyday. They remind us that food isn’t just fuel; it’s an experience.
So next time you’re tired of your own cooking, try slipping one of these homemade luxuries into the mix. No stress, no perfection required—just a little spark to make your meal sing.
If I had to name one habit that makes the biggest difference in how I cook, it wouldn’t be knife skills, fancy equipment, or even the quality of the ingredients. It would be this: tasting as I go.
There’s a school of thought that treats recipes as sacred texts — immutable, untouchable, to be followed exactly lest your dinner collapse in shame. I am not enrolled at that school. I transferred long ago to the far more chaotic (and frankly more fun) institution of Recipes as Templates.
This colourful little number practically hums early summer vibes — crisp, fresh, and a bit too pleased with itself.