Seriously, have you ever followed a recipe where there is an image of the finished dish? and when you follow the recipe yourself, you get an horrible mess that looks like it has been trampled on repeatedly by an a battalion of Russian paratroopers with wooden spoons for boots?

One way of looking at it is to say that you're doing it wrong. You can't follow a recipe. You don't know how to cook, you stupid klutz...

But...

It's not so bad....

first wake up at night and go find something to eat.

If you find something odd, it's even better.

I wonder if this counts as a new form of eroticism.