All the small things – Blink 182
When this song shows up, something happens.
You jump on the couch, scream the lyrics, sing loudly, confidently, and completely wrong and never apologize. It’s loud, it’s dumb in the best way, and it still works every single time. Just a great song from a band that is, how do I put this politely… special. And very funny.
This song also always brings me back to two friends of mine, Tanner and Danielle Dunlop, whom I met on the tiny island of Saba. Two of the biggest Blink-182 fans I’ve ever known. So big, in fact, that they named their sweetest dog after the band. His name? Blink.
Yes. Blink the dog. Ten out of ten. No notes.
But this post isn’t about me reminiscing (okay, maybe just a little). It’s about the small things that create magic in the kitchen.
A pinch of this. A dash of that. A glug of extra virgin olive oil. A touch of rosemary. A sprinkle of sea salt (yes, I see you, Salt Bae). And don’t forget the bare whisper of chili.
These aren’t vague instructions. They’re the poetry of cooking. The feeling. The personal touch that turns a dish into your dish, the one you proudly serve to friends and family and casually say, “Oh, I just threw it together.” But what is a pinch in cooking now really?

Before the Numbers: Where Recipes Are Born
Okay, first things first: I love measurements. Precision matters. Repeating the same result over and over again is non-negotiable in a professional kitchen. Consistency is king.
But before a recipe becomes “the standard,” before it’s written down neatly and shared with the world, it usually starts its life a little messy. A little vague. A little… human. You have to tweak, twist, try, fail, and try again. Multiple times. That’s how the magic shows up.
When you’re developing something new, exact numbers can actually get in the way. They make you commit too early. They lock you into decisions you haven’t fully tasted yet. Not because precision is bad but because creativity needs breathing room.
A pinch lets you test. A dash lets you adjust. A splash lets you overdo it slightly and learn something. That’s not chaos. That’s research.
Feel First, Math Second
Let me give you a little sneak peek into my kitchen and show you how it usually goes down when I’m swinging behind the pots and pans.
I cook by feeling first. I taste constantly. Over and over.
I adjust without overthinking it and let instinct guide my hands. (High-vibe music in the background helps. Loudly.)
Only after the dish makes sense, only when it feels right, do I reach for the scale. That’s when I start translating those instincts into proper measurements.
That’s when:
• the pinch becomes 2 g
• the splash becomes 15 ml
• the glug becomes… okay, maybe 25 ml. Let’s be honest.
Measurements don’t kill creativity. They document it. It’s the same with something as simple as your daily coffee, small adjustments can completely change how it makes you feel. I wrote a bit more about that in my post about why coffee makes you feel good.

Why These Words Still Matter
A pinch isn’t lazy, it’s provisional.
A dash is a suggestion, not a command.
A drizzle is control, with a bit of romance.
A glug is confidence bordering on mischief.
These words are how cooks think before they write things down properly. This is love and creativity at work. Instinct is the key word here. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it. But never be afraid to try, explore, and think outside the box.
They’re the sketch before the blueprint. And once the recipe works, once it’s repeatable, that’s when measurements step in and turn a good idea into something you can share without saying, “Yeah… just vibe it.”
Your Turn: Give Yourself Permission
Here’s the part where I nudge you gently.
You don’t need permission to cook this way but consider this your official green light anyway. Let yourself cook without measuring at first. Taste. Adjust. Trust your senses. Make something slightly too salty once. Add a bit too much acid another time. That’s how your palate learns. That’s how confidence grows.
And when you’ve nailed it? Write it down. Measure it properly. Lock it in. That’s how your own recipes are born.

The Balance (Because Yes, Balance)
So, let’s be clear:
• When you want consistency, you measure.
• When you want to explore, you feel.
Cooking lives in that sweet spot between instinct and structure. Just like that song, simple, rough, unforgettable! The small things aren’t the final answer. They’re the starting point.
What is a pinch in cooking? Feeling it first. Measuring it after. Write it down properly. That’s how new recipes are born.
One Last Pinch
Stay curious, stay precise when it counts, and never underestimate the power of a well-timed pinch, one wakes up the food, the other wakes you up.
Until the next pinch of inspiration,
Yohan