Even when you follow the exact recipe… use the exact ingredients… in the exact proportions and prepared in the exact same ways… as is described exactly by your grandma herself?
How is it that it always tastes better when it’s done by her?
…I think it’s because love is an ingredient.
And I mean it in the same way that onions or garlic might be an ingredient.
Love transcends the metaphysical and becomes something tangible… something tasteful… something delicious…
It becomes a literal part of the recipe. And there’s no good substitution for it.
You either pour your heart into the recipe or you compromise and try “Attentiveness” or “Precise” or “Careful” or “Good enough” or “That’ll do…”
But you’ll always taste the compromise. Nothing tastes the same as pure, unconditional, un-rushed love.
And so it is for just about everything else you choose to do and make and create in this life.