Tasters and Eaters

When you test recipes for a living, you need a good taster, and my husband is among the best.  If I forget 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg in a recipe that serves eight, he picks right up on it.  Although he's usually a good sport about tasting pretty much anything, he does have his limits.  For instance, he won't try anything with garlic before noon or anything in the appetizer line after supper.  And if I need to get something right before the crack of dawn, he puts his foot down at middle-of-the-night tastings.  
        Another one of his quirks is he wont try a spoonful right out of the pot.  Food has to be tasted the way its served, he says.  Pasta sauces need a few twirls of spaghetti, and dips need crackers.  If he needs a whole portion to make up his mind, I dish it out even if it means adjusting the seasoning of what's left in the pot is a mathematical nightmare.
         My husband would never say something is not good, but he'll ask, "Is this a test?" which translates to "It needs work." When he says, it needs work, it means, ditch it and start over.  And when he feels it necessary to remind me there's a fine line between high-fiber and puppy chow, it's his way of telling me that I've crossed it.  
        When I've been knocking myself out with a recipe and can't figure how to make it work, I toy with the idea of calling our friend Paul.   We both know Paul (not his real name) is an eater, not a taster, who could happily polish off a plate of roadkill and announce, "Needs salt."  Instead, I forget Paul and head back to the kitchen.