Preparing supper should be fairly straightforward, but a few days ago, it became an exercise in frustration.
It was a cool autumn evening, an ideal time for a warm, hearty stew.
I did an online search and found a recipe I could make quickly in a pressure cooker. That part was simple enough. However, once I opened the web page, my heart sank.
Before I could get to the recipe, I had to scroll past multiple pictures and a video showing me how to make this meal. After that was a description of the meal, along with the authorÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™s comments about how good it tasted. Then there was a list of links for related recipes, followed by even more pictures.
I still hadnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t reached the recipe.
Next, there was a list of ingredients, some more pictures, a step-by-step guide to preparing this stew and a second list of links to recipes I should check.
Finally, after all that, I reached the recipe. The scroll bar showed I was three-quarters of the way down the page.
It shouldnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t have been like this. The recipe was easy to follow and didnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t require any complicated kitchen techniques. A list of ingredients and a few paragraphs of instructions would have been enough. Instead, I had to go past a lot of information I didnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t want before I finally reached what I needed. This was annoying.
Why wasnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t the recipe near the top of the page, with the video and step-by-step instructions following, and the related links closer to the end?
If this had been an isolated incident, I wouldnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t have cared too much. But this is something IÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™ve seen far too often on recipe pages.
ItÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™s a waste of time to scroll through an overabundance of pictures and related links before finally reaching the recipe I want. And when itÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™s getting close to supper time, I just want to get on with cooking. Some recipe pages have a button near the top, allowing me to skip the additional content and go directly to the recipe. ItÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™s an improvement, but I still wonder why the recipe isnÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t listed first. It is the most important information on the page.
This trend seems to be unique to the world of online recipes.
If I need to do household improvements and basic maintenance projects, I have no problem finding clear, concise instructions online. And when IÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™ve needed other how-to information, I have no problem finding something accurate and understandable, without having to wade through a lot of extra content.
Later that evening, I wondered if there was a simpler way to find the cooking information I wanted.
I tried using an AI software service, asking for a recipe, using the same main ingredients as I had used in my stew. Within seconds, I had a recipe I could follow, presented with no distractions. I asked for a second recipe, and I got that just as quickly. IÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™m not sure IÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™ll use this method, as AI-generated answers are not always reliable.
Then I realized thereÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™s an even simpler method. Cookbooks, recipe cards and sheets of paper with family recipes are low-tech methods for sharing information on food preparation. I donÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t have any cookbooks for using a pressure cooker, but a quick trip to the public library or a bookstore would have saved me a lot of frustration.
Oh well. At least the stew was good. IÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™ve copied out the recipe and saved it for the next time I want a warm meal for a cool night, without a lot of online content I donÏ㽶ÊÓƵֱ²¥™t want or need.
John Arendt is the editor of the Summerland Review.