My Heart Sank When I Read the Substack Comment: 'No One Wants Your Bland Recipes, Gary'

(SFMM) Lesson 10: What You See is What You Get — How a Harsh Comment Helped Me Embrace My Self-Taught Roots and Fueled My Commitment to Sharing My Love for Fast, Easy Food

“There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.” ― Aristotle

Welcome to Superfast Meal Mastery Lesson 10.

Have you ever gotten a questionable comment or a thumbs down on social media that caught you off guard?

Have you ever had anyone on Substack give you a not-so-nice comment or disparaging remark?

If you’ve ever had this kind of experience, then you’ll probably relate to what just happened to me.

Okay, so not long ago, I was scrolling through responses to one of my notes for this Superfast Meal Mastery course that you’re reading right now when a particular comment stopped me cold.

It read, “No one wants your bland recipes, Gary.”

I have to be honest with you. For a moment, my heart sank a little.

Why would someone say that?

What did I do to trigger that kind of reaction?

What were their motives?

They even used my name, Gary, like they knew me or something. It really personalized it and added a little more injury to the insult in a way.

I sat with those words for a bit and started riding out the emotional roller coaster that the whole scenario put me on.

Honestly, I was in a little bit of shock at first.

It’s that sinking feeling when you realize someone out there doesn’t like what you’re doing. And yeah, it stings.

Let’s be real — words might not break bones, but they sure have a way of jabbing at your spirit when you least expect it.

Now, don’t get me wrong.

I’m not some big wussy who can’t handle a few harsh words. I’ve been around the block more times than I’d like to admit. And I’ve heard that old saying more times than I can count: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. But whoever came up with that clearly never read a blunt comment online after pouring their heart into something.

I just had to ride out that temporary flood of emotions that hits when someone throws shade your way.

And slowly, as I started to shake off the initial shock, I realized something important.

I had a choice: I could let this one nasty comment derail me, or I could take a step back and reflect on what I’m really here to do.

That’s when a few truths started to sink in.

Away Down South in Dixie

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, and headin' for the trains
Feelin' nearly faded as my jeans
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained
Took us all away to New Orleans

- Kris Kristofferson, Me and Bobby McGee

The next wave that hit me was a backlash of mixed and admittedly angry feelings. My first thought was: Wait a minute, doesn't he know I'm from Louisiana?

If there’s one thing folks in Louisiana know, it’s how to make food bold, flavorful, and anything but bland.

We’re talking spicy crawfish boils with red potatoes and corn, seafood gumbo loaded with crabmeat and a roux simmered to perfection, Cajun blackened catfish with a kick of cayenne, and jambalaya loaded with shrimp and fresh tomatoes that wake up your taste buds.

And let me tell you something, those crawfish are so spicy hot that you better not rub your eyes after eating them. I learned that one the hard way. You know what I’m talking about.

Bland?

That word doesn’t even exist in my Deep South culinary vocabulary. In fact, Louisiana is famous for having some of the spiciest and most outrageous flavors in the country.

For God sakes, it’s the place where Tabasco Hot Sause and Popeye’s fried chicken is from.

So, give me a break, man, would you?

This food just ain’t bland. No way.

So, I eased my frustration with a simple notion—he just doesn’t know me or where I’m from. And that realization started to turn things around.

Not everyone gets what I bring to the table, and that’s okay. But for those who do, it’s worth sticking to my mission.

Rembrandt Was Self-Taught, and So Am I

Self Portrait by Rembrandt, 1660, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City

Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn, usually simply known as Rembrandt, was a Dutch Golden Age painter, printmaker, and draughtsman. He is generally considered one of the greatest visual artists in the history of Western art.

Then I started thinking—maybe the guy was a little bit right.

You could argue that the person with the mean comment maybe had a valid point. Maybe he was the one who was right, and I was the one who was wrong.

I mean, after all, I’ve never even taken a cooking class of any kind.

And what do I really know about cooking, anyway?

I’m not a professionally trained chef.

I’ve never stepped foot in a culinary school or worn a fancy white jacket with my name embroidered on it. Everything I know, I’ve learned by trial and error in my own kitchen, and maybe a little bit from watching my mother in the kitchen when I was a kid.

But all in all, I’m completely self-taught.

And as I kept reflecting, another thought crossed my mind—you know who else was self-taught?

Rembrandt.

Yep, one of the greatest artists of all time. No fancy art school, no prestigious mentor.

He taught himself, developed his own style, and became a legend in his craft all on his own.

There’s no shame in that.

If it was good enough for Rembrandt, then it’s good enough for me.

There’s pride in being self-taught, in figuring things out the hard way, and creating something meaningful from it.

And just like Rembrandt painted his masterpieces, I’m here to craft meals that are fast, flavorful, and achievable for everyone.

I have to tell you the whole story here though about a dream I had, there was a time when I thought seriously of going to culinary school.

Right after I moved to New York City in 1998, that dream felt closer than ever.

There was this very fancy culinary school, I think it was in the SoHo area of Manhattan, that ran commercials featuring Bobby Flay, the famous chef from Food Network. In the commercials he said that he had gone to that exact same school and had graduated and that his experiences there were responsible for his huge success in the culinary world.

Wow, I thought, that would be so great to get that education and food-training experience.

Watching those ads, I could almost picture myself in one of those crisp white jackets, learning the secrets of gourmet cooking.

I even looked into enrolling, but the tuition was way out of my budget.

At the time, I was already taking art lessons at the Art Students League of New York, which was a dream come true in itself. But balancing trying to go to two schools at the same while holding a full-time job just wasn’t practical, or financially feasible for me. So, I backed off from the culinary school idea and focused on my art classes at that time instead.

Looking back, I realize that decision led me down a different but equally creative path — one that eventually brought me back to the kitchen in my own way.

What You See Is What You Get

John Candy in the 1987 classic movie Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I'm sure you remember Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, the classic movie with John Candy and Steve Martin. It comes out every year at Christmas, and every time I’m flipping through channels and see it’s on, I have to stop and watch at least a few minutes.

There’s one scene in the movie that gets me all choked up every single time I see it. I can’t fully explain it, but there’s something about the way the dialogue blends with the moving music that just grabs me. The picture of John Candy above is from that exact scene in the movie.

Maybe you know the part I’m talking about?

It’s the scene where John Candy and Steve Martin's characters check into that cheap hotel on the first night of their chaotic journey. After Candy takes a shower and uses up all the towels, Steve Martin gets visibly annoyed as Candy continues to ramble on with pointless stories.

Finally, Martin snaps and says, “Maybe if you would tell a story that has a point!” Then he mocks Candy, calling him a Chatty Cathy doll and mimicking pulling the cord on the doll by banging on his chest.

Candy, clearly hurt but defiant, fires back:

"Sure, I'm an easy target. But I'm the real McCoy. What you see is what you get. I like me. My wife likes me. My customers like me."

That line hits me hard in the heart every time I see it.

I literally get all teary-eyed and emotional.

It’s raw, honest, and full of self-respect.

And as I think back to that unkind comment I got about my recipes, I realize I feel the same way as John Candy in the movie.

So, if you’re the guy who wrote that comment and you happen to be reading this right now — I have this to say to you: Sure, I’m an easy target.

But guess what?

I like me. My friends and family like me. And my readers, the ones who really appreciate what I’m doing here, like me too.

And when it comes to me and my writing and my recipes on Substack, I’m the real McCoy.

What you see is what you get.

I’m not misleading anyone.

I’m not claiming that my recipes are top-notch or world-class. I’m not out here trying to make anyone believe that these meals will transform your kitchen into a five-star restaurant.

I’ve never made any promises like that.

No, my only real promise is that these meals can be made fast and easily.

That’s something I’ve worked on for years, figuring out what works in my own kitchen. And once I discovered how valuable that was for me, I thought there might be others who needed that kind of help too.

I just thought I knew a few things that could make life a little easier for others.

That’s all.

Doubling Down on My Love of Cooking and Sharing What I’ve Learned

So, after all the emotional gyrations, that comment didn’t break me—it only fueled my commitment even more.

It fueled my commitment to keep sharing my love for fast, easy food with those who want it. Because the truth is, there’s a lot of joy to be found in creating meals that don’t require hours of prep or expensive ingredients.

I’m sticking to my mission.

I’m here to help people like you get food on the table quickly, without sacrificing flavor.

It might not be the kind of recipes that Bobby Flay would make or approve and serve in his fancy restaurants.

It might not be gourmet, but it’s the real McCoy.

It’s straight from the heart.

It’s practical. And most importantly, it’s something I believe in.

So, here I am, doubling down on what I do best: making life in the kitchen a little simpler and a lot more delicious for people like you.

Today’s Lesson?

So, what can you glean from all of this? What is today’s lesson?

I thought long and hard about this for you. And okay, here it is.

Today’s cooking lesson is: What you see is what you get. Don't ever forget who you are and to be proud of it. Don't be afraid to be yourself in the kitchen, and anywhere else for that fact.

Honestly, it's the best thing you've got going. Try not to lose it, kid.

See you next week,

Gary