Recipe for Success

“I just found the best chayote squash!”

Not an unfamiliar statement to receive from my wife, Fanny, during one of our midday texting sessions. What the hell is a chayote squash, you may be wondering? I pondered the same thought, but now its image is forever engrained in my brain. Close your eyes and picture an elderly woman around the age of 92. Now, imagine she doesn’t have her dentures in, and her mouth is closed. That, my friends, is a chayote squash (Google it, I’ll wait).

Fanny and I blaze two very different professional trails (at least on the surface). She spends her days shopping for unique, deliciously different ingredients comprised of what can only be considered magical manifestations of her incredible food imagination. After she gathers all these wonderfully edible materials, she then treks home and masterfully pieces them together until they bring to life a meal which began as an idea that jolted her out of bed at 2 AM.  She’s a cook, writer, food personality but most importantly, a patient purveyor of her craft.

Since moving to Chicagoland last month, we have been thrown into a new city, which brings new experiences and new faces. Without fail, every new person we meet asks the typical ice-breaker question:

“So, what do you do?”

Fanny usually starts with her elevator speech explaining her day-to-day including how lucky she feels to get paid for what she truly loves—all things food. Then the surface level interest shifts to me. It’s always a little awkward explaining to a stranger what I do because it’s not the most common of jobs. Regardless, I give my version of an elevator speech and wait for the typical response:

“Wow, you have two COMPLETELY different jobs!”

No question about it, we DO have completely different jobs, but I recently realized maybe our passions aren’t as foreign to one another as we’ve always thought.

In thinking about what makes Fanny so talented when it comes to all things culinary, it became impossible to overlook the similarities between standouts in her profession and standouts in mine:

• Passion for the craft

• Patience in pursuit

• Intentional execution in delivery

Let’s start with the passion piece… When I got home from work, Fanny had spent much of the day working on what she wanted us to eat for dinner. This is not abnormal; she will literally start talking about dinner 10 minutes after she wakes up—she’s obsessed. Yesterday was no different. She spent the day making homemade salsa and guacamole to have as an appetizer before dinner. She then started a bone broth that would serve as the base for a kickass pot of French onion soup. She spent HOURS on every element of this ONE meal. Every layer and ingredient were just as important as the next.

“Season every layer,” she repeats over and over.

Her hard work and passion come through in the finished outcome of her meals. Every. Single. Time.

Taking the time to methodically research, plan and prepare, pouring your heart into every creation is what serves as the differentiator between a decent cook and a wizard (not you, Harry—though I’m sure you make a mean Hogwarts hollandaise).

Our jobs are no different. It takes a passionate approach and a patient mindset to deliver the quality expected of our professions. This is no easy venture; self-awareness, along with intentional application, are vital to ensure we give our all to every investigation and interview.

I kick off every Advanced Workshop with the same question for the attendees: “Tell me your greatest strength and greatest opportunity as an interviewer.” Without fail, most responses for “greatest opportunity” revolve around having a lack of patience. Patience is the cornerstone to ensuring no stone is left unturned, both during the investigation and throughout the actual interview. Too often, I have heard the following statement, “I just want to get in and out as soon as possible” or “I actually take pride in getting them to admit quickly.”

If your goal going in is centered around speed and admissions, you are setting yourself up for disaster.

The goal needs to be patience and truth. Period. Think of the difference in a meal prepared by a chef who poured their heart and soul into the dish versus a meal where the idea, food and delivery were all created on short notice.

Case and point: fast food. The difference is palatable.

Intentional Execution in Delivery, in the culinary world, is represented in the unique creation of every single dish. No one dish is the exact same, they are unique to the situation and environment within which they are prepared. Interviews are no different. We are responsible for approaching every individual as being unique—their demeanor, responses (physical, emotional and verbal) and their disposition to the issue at hand. If we fail to execute with intention, we risk failing to locate and respond accordingly to critical mitigating/incriminating information.

Regardless if this is the 100^th sexual harassment, return fraud, or domestic violence case you’re investigating this month, it is your responsibility to enter each engagement with a clean, neutral slate, and approach this interaction with what the situation warrants and nothing more.

These principles represent some of the key ingredients that make up the recipe of many professions.

Take the time to ask yourself if you are intentionally approaching your investigations and interviews, or if you are just going through the motions. The phrase, “season every layer” is one I now attribute to my own job. I’m constantly asking myself, “am I passionately, patiently and intentionally executing in every facet of my role” or am I just throwing a Hot Pocket into the microwave and hoping for the best?

Be Bobby Flay, not Ronald McDonald.

And most importantly, never over-salt your suspects. 😊