I’ve spent years living in kitchens. First on the line, burning through late-night prep, then building my own dishes, then reworking the classics. And somewhere along the way I realised what nobody in glossy food media wants to admit:

Most recipes don’t work.

They’re vague. They’re rushed. They’re published for clicks, not cooks. And when they flop, the blame lands on you. Confidence dies quietly in a thousand kitchens.

This isn’t just sloppy writing — it’s a broken system. And it’s time to call it out.

A Recipe Is a Promise

When you open a recipe, you’re entering into a contract: do these steps, get this dish.

But that promise is broken all the time because the recipe was never truly tested, never cross-checked, never written for a real person standing at a stove.

Common failures:

– Wrong measurements.

– Missing ingredients.

– Contradictory steps.

– Oversimplified language.

When the dish doesn’t work, the cook blames themselves instead of the recipe. That isn’t a typo — that’s betrayal.

What Real Testing Looks Like

Good recipes don’t happen by accident. They’re built like prototypes:

Multiple rounds of testing. In professional kitchens a single dish may be made 5–10 times with tweaks in technique, timing and seasoning.

Precision and sensory cues. Not just “cook until golden” but “cook 3–4 minutes, until edges are dark brown and the center smells nutty, like toasted hazelnut.” Timing + sensory cues teach you what “done” looks, smells and feels like.

Cross-reading and editing. The ingredients list must match the method exactly. Measurements must be consistent (weight beats volume; “large” eggs must mean the same thing every time). Even salt brands vary so much they can swing flavour by 30–40%.

Built-in substitutions. Real cooks swap and improvise. A strong recipe anticipates that — alternative flours, vegan swaps, different spice blends — without losing its soul.

User testing. Hand the draft to someone who didn’t write it. Watch them cook. Every question they ask is a problem you need to fix.

Most published recipes skip two-thirds of that. That’s why they fail.

Oversimplification Isn’t Accessibility

We’ve all seen the same throwaway lines:

“Cook until done.”

“Season to taste.”

“Bake until golden.”

They sound friendly but they teach nothing. If you don’t know what “done” or “golden” means, you’re lost.

Good recipes give you sensory anchors. They tell you how garlic should smell before it burns. How onions should look when they’re translucent, not browned. What “medium heat” feels like in a pan. That’s how real learning happens.

The Fantasy of Food Photography

The pictures aren’t innocent either. Food photography today is theatre: perfect drips, impossible shine, steam blown in with a straw.

Why it matters:

Expectation vs. reality. When your dish doesn’t look like the photo, you feel like you’ve failed — even if it tastes great.

Manipulation of ingredients. Motor oil instead of syrup, mashed potatoes instead of ice cream, glue instead of milk — these aren’t myths. They’re standard tricks for a “hero shot.”

Color and light distortion. Editing pushes colours far past what’s natural. A stew that’s actually brown becomes a jewel-toned fantasy.

Consumer perception shift. Studies show people rate food as tastier when it looks good in photos — even if the actual flavour is unchanged. That’s how powerful visuals are.

There’s nothing wrong with beautiful food images. The problem is dishonesty. When photos create a reality no home cook can reach, they erode trust just like bad instructions do.

Honest photography can still be striking. Shoot the actual dish. Show stages, not just the hero plate. Let the imperfections show. Food is meant to be eaten, not staged into a fairy tale.

Ingredient Chaos

Most recipes live at two extremes:

Endless obscure ingredients you’ll use once.

or

Lists so stripped-back they taste like cardboard.

And almost no one builds in substitutions. Yet real cooking is swapping, adapting, improvising. Substitutions shouldn’t be an afterthought — they should be built in from the start.

The Online Dumpster Fire

Then there’s the digital experience: pop-ups, autoplay videos, endless personal fluff, ads jammed between steps. By the time you reach the recipe card you’ve forgotten why you came.

I understand the need for revenue. But when usability dies, the recipe dies too.

What Recipes Should Be

Here’s the baseline every recipe should hit:

Relentlessly tested. Cooked multiple times before publication.

Precise but flexible. Clear steps with room for swaps.

Educational. Teach technique and context, not just steps.

Respectful. No fluff, no digital circus, respect the cook’s time.

Honest. Photos that inspire without deceiving.

This isn’t a stylistic preference. It’s respect for the person holding the knife.

Why It Matters

Bad recipes and dishonest photos waste more than ingredients. They waste trust. They crush confidence. They stop people from cooking altogether.

It’s time to stop pretending this is normal. Recipe writing needs a reset — tested, clear, honest, adaptable, respectful.

Food deserves better.

Cooks deserve better.

Recipes deserve better.