How my PhD training has improved my baking skills

I walked away from the bench four years ago this month. Since that time, I have enjoyed the life of a Scientific Editor, where my training in the lab is integral to the job. I am still surprised when my training becomes useful in everyday life. Perhaps it shouldn't –  many articles about "The PhD Problem" focus on how training to be a scientist has other long-term benefits, including developing critical thinking and problem solving skills. A few years ago, I decided that I would start approaching recipe development like I would designing a protocol or experiment. This has been a very fun project, so I wanted to share my results.

First, I started reading more about recipe development by professional bakers. Then, I decided to tackle my favorite baked good: the oatmeal cookie. For many years, I have used my mom's recipe, which came from the Quaker Oats box and was never altered. They are delicious cookies, but as any scientist/baker would, I wondered if I could do better.


I had to figure out what recipe to start with. The Flour cookbook has a great oatmeal cookie recipe, with excellent instructions that are thoughtful about the science of baking (e.g., the formation of gluten). Another advantage is that their recipe includes weights for all the ingredients. The use of a scale to weigh ingredients was a crucial element for my recipe testing – it added precision and allowed me to make half a recipe (this meant I could bake cookies every other weekend without having too many extra calories). The Flour cookies are very good, but I found them too chewy and I wanted more oatmeal. I did some more research on how each ingredient in a cookie recipe contributes to the end result. (The best resource was The Food Lab.) Over the course of a year, I baked four different iterations of the Flour recipe and ended up with something in between their recipe and the original Quaker recipe. I have repeated this protocol six times and find it is consistently good – even after we moved (testing a new oven) and got new cookie sheets. Out of curiosity, I did try America's Test Kitchen recipe (free version here), as ATK is the gold standard of recipe testing. I found their cookie had a good oat flavor, but was too crunchy and crumbly. 

This experiment taught me a lot about recipe design and the small things that make a big difference in how cookies turn out (e.g., letting the dough rest overnight). I also found many useful resources to help me in future recipe development. It is definitely a great time to be a scientist/baker as there are so many food blogs and podcasts that focus on this topic. The success of my experiment and the wealth of resources available has encouraged me to approach my previously perfected "Test Kitchen Brownies". I will be sure to update you once my next experiment is complete.

Oh, the places I go! Another reason I love being a Scientific Editor

My job as a Scientific Editor gives me the opportunity to read much more broadly than I did when I worked in the lab. While researching manuscripts for suitability for the journal or while trying to find reviewers, I sometimes end up in very unexpected places. I discussed this briefly in my post about the book Elephants on Acid and Other Bizarre Experiments. I often find myself reading abstracts for papers that sound like fodder for Seriously, Science (formerly known as NCBI ROFL). The premise of this site is simple: post abstracts from PubMed with a simple description of the work. Of course, they tend to choose papers that sound pretty ridiculous on the surface. These are typically the types of papers that would garner criticisms about why such research should be funded. Here are some recent examples: "Study proves 'old person smell' is real"; "Curvy vs. straight - which glass ups your drinking rate?"


As a graduate student I studied the motility of the sperm from Ascaris, an intestinal parasite from pigs; we affectionately called our system "worm sperm". Thus, I understand the appeals and perils of working with an offbeat system. These unusual systems actually have important applications (otherwise they would not likely be funded). For example, worm sperm has a novel machinery for cell motility (more specifically, it uses a completely unique protein to power the movement of its amoeboid sperm), which could help us understand how more traditional cells crawl. Studying simple cells to understand more complex ones is a common approach in cell biology. The idea is that there should be conserved elements that should be comparable between the different cell types; such an approach can allow scientists to generate a minimal parts lists for a cellular process of interest. Thus, brewer's yeast can be used as a model system for a surprising number of cellular processes, even neurodegenerative diseases like Huntington's and Parkinson's.

A few weeks ago, I was looking for reviewers for a paper about protein stability during cryopreservation of heart tissues (now available in BBA - Proteins and Proteomics). The work could eventually have an impact on how tissues are stored prior to tissue transplants.  I found myself reading title after title about the stability of proteins after cryopreservation of semen of various types, especially boar and horse semen. The funny thing was -  I was not surprised to stumble upon these papers because I had seen them before. On the previous occasion, I was researching a paper on the proteomics of horse semen. These areas of research might elicit some giggles even from the seasoned scientist, but the work could have important implications for animal husbandry.

I recently evaluated a paper that described the protein in Venus fly traps responsible for digesting arthropods. Interestingly, it is a chitinase, an enzyme that can break down the chitinous exoskeleton of the fly trap's lunch (now published in BBA- Proteins and Proteomics). While searching for reviewers, I found a plethora of interesting papers, such as the mechanics of the opening and closing of Venus fly traps and proteomics to identify the components involved in digestion in a variety of carnivorous plants. I also see a lot of papers about insect venom. For example, we recently received a paper about the proteomics of fishing spider venom. As I learned in the book Wicked Bugs, insects and spiders have some pretty amazing (and terrifying) ways of attacking their prey. Some recently published papers demonstrate that understanding how the venom works can be useful for developing new pain killers as well as novel pesticides.

Every week I seem to find a new and strange corner of PubMed to explore. Sure, I still have some knee-jerk reactions and giggle when I read some of the titles. Generally, though, once I dig deeper to understand what the long-term goal of the work is, I tend to be amazed at the boundlessness of scientific curiosity and the ingenuity of scientists for finding new ways of solving problems.

My year away from the bench

It has now been one year since I left the lab. In May 2012, I found a full time position as a Scientific Editor for BBA with Elsevier in Cambridge. It is an excellent job for me: I get to read other people's science all day. Plus, it has been an exciting change of pace. In the first few months, it was tough to get used to the relaxed atmosphere; suddenly, there was much less pressure to produce results. I have since adapted to the vagaries of scientific publishing. The best part of this normal schedule: I have a more balanced life again. For me, this has included reading more books, watching movies, and running more regularly. 

I have also started to develop my skills as a baker. Anyone who has tried my brownies knows that I am familiar with the power of combining eggs, butter, and flour. However, in the past few months I have started to take this to a new level. About six year ago, I stumbled upon Cook's Illustrated/America's Test Kitchen. If you are unfamiliar, they have an amazingly scientific approach to developing a recipe; essentially, they make 100 batches of chocolate chip cookies so you don't have to (by the way, their chocolate chip cookies are amazing and are worth every extra step). I started to think about my baking differently. I have been reading more about the science of cooking, specifically the chemistry of the ingredients and how changes in the ratios of the components can lead to predictable changes in the resulting product. 

I decided to work on one of my standard recipes: the oatmeal raisin cookie. In the past, I have done a little bit of experimenting with my recipes, but I have never been very methodical. For this new undertaking, I invested in two new tools: a scale and a notebook. After a few batches, I think I have a successful recipe, which has consistently (N = 3)  achieved the desired outcome: a cookie with a good combination of chewy and crunchy with a lot of molasses and oatmeal flavor. 

I suppose this means that I miss the lab more than I had anticipated. Of course, in contrast to experiments in the lab, a bad result in baking is still a good outcome: treats to enjoy! 

   

   

Torch song or swan song?

In my research into new directions, I have stumbled upon lots of blog posts just like this one (for example, this and this). They all seem to share a sense of loss.  Indeed, one day in the lab I was listening to some sad music, as I am wont to do on a rainy, gray day, when suddenly, I found myself crying and it took me a while to figure out why: I identified my relationship with science with the heart-sick protagonist in the song. 

My friend and lab mate from grad school often compares work at the bench to an abusive relationship: one in which you are constantly beaten down, but are apt to forget about it once you have one good day.  At the bench, that one good day every few weeks has to carry you through all the dark, data-less days.  For some people, that one day is enough, but it does not seem to be enough for me anymore.

For more than twelve years, my quotidian existence has been built around getting up and heading to the bench.  The idea that I won’t be picking up my pipettes anymore seems strange.  Instead, I suppose my day will be filled with reading the literature, checking the science blogs, and writing and editing.   For the time being, I will be working as a freelance scientific editor.  Of course, I will be looking for more traditional jobs in scientific publishing as well.  I hope that this leaves some time for science writing, which is what I started graduate school with the intent of doing.   

I hope that this change will help return my love to me.  In recent months, I have felt the flutter a few times, usually while reading science blogs.  There is certainly lots of great science out there.  Now I hope to find it from the computer rather than at the bench.       


Update Nov 2013: Looks like someone at Nature had the same thoughts: Postdoc's torch song