Cooking, chemistry, and when bravery doesn’t always work out
In high school, I had a chemistry teacher named Mrs. McClendon. She was a short woman with a voice that often came across as disinterested, which suited me perfectly because, as it turned out, I too was disinterested in chemistry. But when I or the rest of the class would complain (or copy each other’s work), she’d say of the assignments, to no one in particular and in a deflated singing tone, “try them.”
I didn’t heed her call to action because I was feeling brave, inquisitive, or excited about the intricacies of how to balance a chemical equation. I did my work because I wanted a good grade. I wasn’t great at chemistry and certainly didn’t like it. But she invited me to try something new, difficult, and seemingly complex. Sometimes I did. Most of the time, I didn’t.
But since moving into my first apartment, long separated from my high school days, I find myself in a laboratory yet again. And this one, I like a lot more.
When I cook or bake in my house, I feel like both a chemist and an adventurer. The same “try them” I heard droned in school is now shouted with glee by my inner voice when I consider a new recipe or cuisine to try. And so it was this week when, ushered in by 2 successful soup attempts, I tried the boldest one yet:
Chicken feet soup.
A popular Chinese soup touted for its high amounts of collagen, I was drawn to the soup because I’ve been in a bone broth era recently and thought this would be a great addition to my repertoire. But this recipe wasn’t just something new. I had no reference point for this whatsoever. At least with the other two soups I made, I had eaten them before. But this? I was walking into a truly unprecedented culinary adventure with nothing but a recipe and some tunes to keep me company.
And it taught me – or at least reminded me – that when you’re trying something new, it’s simply not going to work out all the time.
This ginger chicken feet soup is the first thing I’ve made that I did not like.
I followed the recipe closely, ate a bowl of it, and threw the rest of the soup away. It was well-executed, the texture and flavor were exactly what they should’ve been according the video but…I didn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t a failure, but it certainly left me with two lessons about what happens when you look at a new or difficult task and, as Mrs. McClendon would say, “try them.”
At first, I lamented that I had wasted time and money (~$6 lol) on a dish I ended up throwing away. But the investment you make to try something new is never a waste if you learn something from it. I learned on that Thursday evening that I do not like eating chicken feet soup or preparing anything with chicken feet at all. But it was only after having to buy it, prepare it, and eat it, that I could have gained that knowledge.
Just because I didn’t like it doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying.
I’m a pretty adventurous eater who, with very rare exceptions, will try any food at least once. I eat food from all around the world pretty regularly, even cooking cuisines from different countries and cultures regularly in my house. In fact, I’ve been in a big Chinese food era for the last few months and have had a delightful time learning new ways of cooking. So though I did not enjoy this particular Chinese dish, simply by making it, I’m continuing to understand Chinese flavors, textures, and ways of using ingredients.
Just because I didn’t like it doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything from it.
So I will continue to learn, to experiment, and to explore in my laboratory of a kitchen. I will continue to document meticulously my process, learnings, and adventures. In fact, in 2026, I plan to do so with more intention than I did this year, not merely taking photos, but annotating my experiences, wins, losses, successes, and failures. As a record that I tried.
If I didn’t do anything else in this life, when it comes to new skills and challenges, I can say that I did indeed try them.
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