Connecting the Dots

I may have watched Chopped, on Food Network, too many times.  When I saw leftover whipping cream in the fridge the other day, I synapsed to the frozen pomegranate seeds I had purchased on sale to try, still in the freezer.  Oh, and beside them I found the silvanas one of my Filipino friends brought back for me from her visit home.   I could make a parfait!!  Maybe add blueberries and homemade custard?

You might know the cooking competition that challenges four chefs to combine four disparate ingredients in each of three rounds into a delicious dish.  One chef is "chopped" after each of the appetizer, entrée, and dessert rounds, until a champion is crowned.  

Thank goodness, watching Chopped has not been a colossal waste of precious time.  I’ve learned a lot about cooking.  Over the years, my knowledge of ingredients has certainly broadened, along with the cooking techniques for these ingredients and their pairings.  Even more important, I’ve retained some of what NOT to do.

As a result, this recipe-bound cook has, from time to time, risked forging ahead on her own sans recipe.  So, the silvanas, coarsely chopped, lined the bottom of martini glasses as the base of the parfait.  On top went homemade custard, then pomegranates and blueberries, then whipped cream.  Another layer of silvanas, custard, fruit, and cream, topped with a dusting of the silvana crumbs and some toasted slivered almonds.  Not bad for my first original dessert.

I had gone from a container of whipping cream to pomegranates, silvanas and custard,  culminating ultimately in a parfait.   Not only had I successfully connected the dots; I had recognized them in the first place.  In this case, the dots  were potential ingredients for a dish.  But, in other contexts, they could have been information from various sources on a particular topic.   Or  life experiences over a few weeks.   Or manifestations that could explain a particular phenomenon.  

An exercise in critical thinking par excellence, connecting dots involves analysis of objects or events,  interplay with one’s prior knowledge, and the ability to come up with something new—in short, the highest level of Bloom’s Taxonomy of Cognition, the creation of a theory, a hypothesis, or an explanation to be further tested and refined.  Anderson, L. W., & Krathwohl, D. R. (2001) define it as the  "compil[ation] of  information together in a different way by combining elements in a new pattern or proposing alternative solutions."

So why is this a big deal?   It means that mechanics can figure out what’s wrong with a vehicle given some noises, lights or smells; a teacher can differentiate instruction for a child based on observations, conversations, or products; a doctor can make a diagnosis from test results, symptoms or patient descriptions; and a detective solve a case from clues, interviews, or photographs.   Every day, it means we can figure out what might be bothering a friend from conversations or events, or  assess conclusions we hear in the news based on multiple sources of information.

So what might people good at dot-connection have in common?  In my experience:

•     They can recognize the dots.  They can see commonalities between things happening in the present and events, details, statements or images they recall from the past.

•     They retain a healthy sceptism.  They don’t take things at face value.  Someone connects some dots to arrive at a particular conclusion?  They stop to wonder whether that conclusion is legitimate.  They wonder if any dots were left out, intentionally or inadvertently, or if, in fact, the connections are logical.

•     They peruse a wide variety of information sources.  They force themselves to understand points of view totally opposed to their own.  They are open to seeing things from a different perspective, no matter if that perspective goes against beliefs or positions they have long held.

•     They can manage  discomfort.   They know that difficult facts might give rise to unpleasant conclusions, and they have the skills to deal with that.

•     A solid, anchored core allows them the security to look at things differently.

In my efforts to connect the dots that were these ingredients,  I evolved as a cook.  I created a delicious parfait.  Could it have used less nutmeg?  Yep.  Would a fruit with a more definitive taste like mango or orange have sharpened the flavour?  Likely.  Still, my relative success  encourages me.  It gives me the confidence to try again.   It sharpens my awareness.  There’s a chance dots I have never noticed before will be obvious, as if illuminated from black light, and, I’ll be dumbfounded at the links that appear.  Like those between a Chopped-inspired parfait and connections.