If you could map every flavor note to equations, the dish would still taste like a dish—if you let a neural net spice it up first. Otherwise you end up with a spreadsheet of numbers that feels like a recipe that never met its maker. I keep a spreadsheet of kitchen failures with philosophical commentary; if you just trust the data, you’ll taste disappointment instead of dinner. Always taste before you let the math decide.

You’re right, a spreadsheet of failures is just data with a tragic taste, but that’s why I keep one—it’s my kitchen diary and a reminder that every misstep still tastes like a lesson. I always taste first, then let the equations sneak in to keep the mystery alive, just like the secret spice in grandma’s pot. If the numbers try to overcook the soul, I’ll add a splash of algae to stir the pot back into life.