We'll have Bruce's butt in the shot. I consider taking the darn thing down, confessing that my wife has never really liked the poster there in the kitchen. After the kitchen has been examined, reflectors are set up to maximize available light. Extension cords snake across the floor from the kitchen to my dining room table, where a monitor has been set up for Olmsted, who will direct the proceedings. I run through the operation.
Someone asks if the recipe has any special name.
Just look at the camera as you would a friend. Do your thing and tell us about it as you go. Except for the fact that I have no friends who look even remotely like the big, gray monster now staring across at me, I grasp these instructions and prepare myself. Whenever you're ready. I smile at the lens and introduce myself.