Zoe Guttenplan 2021 -

A personal essay on buttery brioche, soggy zucchini, and the freedom of the "good enough" kitchen.

In the old days, I would have thrown it in the trash and ordered sushi.

What came out wasn't pretty. It was lopsided, leaky, and the edges were charcoal in some spots and pale in others. But when I cut into it? The butter had pooled in the crevices. The zucchini had caramelized into jammy ribbons. It was devastatingly delicious. That galette taught me that precision is a tool, not a god.

There’s a specific kind of anxiety that comes with holding a whisk in a perfectly lit kitchen. You know the one. The counter is marble, the Mise en place is in tiny glass bowls, and the recipe demands you chill the dough for exactly 47 minutes.

Go burn the garlic toast. Over-knead the bread. Use the pre-shredded cheese.