Grilled Cheese

In my experience, you can tell a lot by a person by the way they make grilled cheese. I, for example, begin by putting the griddle on the burner, but not heating it. Then I meticulously spread margarine onto one side of the first piece of bread, being careful to spread it evenly and into every edge and corner. After I finish this process with the first piece, I place it butter-side-down onto the griddle and turn the heat on. I then unwrap two slices of American cheese with extreme caution so as not to rip the slices. I place one slice into the corner of the bread that is on the griddle, and then tear the second slice into perfectly shaped and sized pieces to fill in the gaps between the whole slice and the edges of the bread. The outcome of this process is an even layer of delicious processed cheese food between my two perfectly buttered slices of bread.
Judging by my tactics thus far, you might believe I'm a perfectionist, a little compulsive, or maybe just plain crazy; perhaps those things are true. However, the important part of making grilled cheese does not happen until the sandwich is entirely assembled. I stand by the stove, tapping my foot and I wait, but I'm bad at that. I continually use my spatula to lift the corners of the bread to check how the sandwich is browning. In doing so, I essentially prevent the sandwich from ever browning. I eventually become far too impatient, flipping the sandwich before it is close to ready.
Every time I make a grilled cheese, I promise myself that I'll wait, and I will not check it until I know it is ready. And every time, I peek under the corners to see the soggy disappointment that is a not-yet-browned sandwich. Sure, this is a character flaw, but recently, I've learned a little something about myself, and about the reward for the wait.

It used to be that when I started something, I began as a detail-oriented, organized, and meticulously plotting planner. As I got into the  process, I would begin to peek. I could imagine how my plan would work out in the end, but I wasn't willing to wait to see it happen. I kept peeking ahead, lifting up the corners to check the progress. The excitement and overwhelming potential of a situation that has not yet browned was too much for me. I became too eager, racing ahead, trying to omit steps that were vital to the process.

More recently, I've discovered that in life, a situation will go where it will. With time and a healthy dose of patience any situation can brown nicely and create a sandwich worth eating. You just have to be willing to stop peeking ahead, take a deep breath, and step away from the stove for a while. Then, and only then, can you create the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.