Common Threads and Multi-Colors

Two's.

Someone once cleverly observed that there are two kinds of people:  those who believe that there are two types of people, and those who don't.

One afternoon in our week of culinary Boot Camp at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, NY, the Director of Continuing Education was taking us on a tour of the school.  She noted that the curriculum essentially divides between culinary and baking programs, and that students are decidedly one or the other.  While students in each program are required to take some basics on the "other side," culinary students tend to be miserable baking, and the culinary classes tend to drive the baking students crazy.  They are, she emphasized, totally different.  Baking requires scientific precision, reliably repeated.  Cooking requires intuitive -- often imaginative -- flexibility. 

"So how do you know which one you are?" someone asked.
"It's in the stars," she replied.

Two kinds of people.

For the last day of class, each cooking team was given a list of ingredients that we needed to employ in the creation of a two-course meal.  How we used them in and in what kinds of recipes were up to our imagination and determination.  When all the dishes were ultimately prepared and interpreted, some had been chosen because they were reliable recipes in a given student's repertoire that he or she could confidently reproduce.  They represented an opportunity for that student to showcase something they do well.  Other dishes represented opportunities seized by other students as a way of experimenting with something new; a chance to take a risk; to practice a new skill or cooking method introduced to them during the class.

Two kinds of people.

During the course of the trip I was introduced to a book by a journalist who, along with his wife, bought a farm in Vermont and a handful of goats by which to make their own cheese, and wrote about their experiences.  It is a delightfully engaging book -- especially for a guy like me already in love with Vermont and intrigued by the prospect of small-scale farming.  But reading about life with goats I find myself preferring the thought of life with vegetables.  And it makes me wonder if there are "planting" people and "tending" people.

Two kinds of people.

I could go on and on.  According to the Myers-Briggs personality assessment there are introverts and extroverts; "J's" and "P's." There are men and women; straights and gays; Democrats and Republicans; "white" collars and "blue."

Notice that throughout I have made no value judgments.  I have my preferences, but bias hardly suggests "best."  As my waistline can attest, I am grateful for both bakers and cooks.  I need some "J's" around to channel my inner "P."  And while I can't really see myself raising livestock, I'm grateful that someone does.

But, then, I suppose there are two kinds of people:  those who wish that everyone were just like him or her, and those who appreciate the difference.