The hummus in Israel is made from freshly cooked chickpeas yielding a creamy, delectably rich spread that complements fresh pitta and Syrian olives. I find conversations flow easily with hummus — whether debating who has the best hummus in town or the best interpretation for a set of experiments. It's a wonder how simple things can be interpreted so differently. Yet, just as the quest for the ultimate hummus can lead to new destinations; so too a simple band on a gel can direct me to one experiment and my colleague to another.
Differences in interpretation that may initially seem trivial could have a crucial impact on the direction and take-home message of a project. I think part of becoming a seasoned scientist is learning how to build confidence in one's ability to interpret data independently and to defend those interpretations.
I experienced this recently while preparing a manuscript. I debated with my colleagues on how to interpret a key phenotype in a pepper mutant. In the end I went with my gut — which, I am learning, is a wise move for a good scientist, and for a hummus aficionado. Now, when I discuss data with friends, it is at my chosen restaurant. Who would have thought my ability to choose between hummus with a touch of cumin or a 'shpritz' of lemon would help me defend my experimental interpretations?