BACKSTAGE PASS / ANDI’S CORNER / ISSUE 002

I Tried to Become a Better Drummer by Watching Cooking Shows

Andi CollinsAndi’s Corner · November 2, 2026 · Sugar Uprising

So I was watching a cooking show the other night, and I noticed something.

Chefs are basically drummers with knives.

Hear me out.

They chop really fast. They have incredible timing. They do multiple things at once. And sometimes Gordon Ramsay throws stuff, which is basically what I do when I drop a drumstick.

I started thinking about it, which is something Jess says I should do before I act on things instead of afterward.

Anyway.

What if cooking could make me a better drummer?

I know. Genius.

The Science Part (Yes, There's Science)

Here's something you might not know about drumming.

We use something called bilateral coordination, which is a fancy way of saying your left hand and right hand have to cooperate even though they clearly have different personalities.

Your feet get involved too.

Sometimes all four limbs are doing completely different things at the same time.

It's like trying to rub your stomach, pat your head, kick a soccer ball, and remember where you put your phone.

Except you're doing it at 160 beats per minute.

And there's an audience.

Now, chefs also need coordination. They chop, stir, flip, season, and occasionally yell at someone named Kevin.

So I figured there had to be some crossover.

I looked up something called motor learning, which is how your brain gets better at movements through practice. Repetition helps build coordination and makes familiar movements more automatic.

This is real science.

I checked.

Twice.

The second website had diagrams.

Experiment One: The Onion Metronome

I decided to start with chopping.

Not actual chopping at first, because apparently there are rules about knives.

I put a cutting board on the kitchen counter, grabbed two wooden spoons, and set my metronome to 120 BPM.

For anyone who doesn't know, BPM stands for beats per minute.

At 120 BPM, there are two beats every second.

If you divide each beat into four sixteenth notes, that's eight notes per second.

Eight.

That's a lot of onion.

I started alternating my hands, playing single-stroke rolls on the cutting board.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

It worked!

Then I tried double-stroke rolls.

Right-right. Left-left.

Also worked!

Then I tried a paradiddle.

Right-left-right-right. Left-right-left-left.

For the non-drummers reading this, a paradiddle is a real thing. I didn't make it up. It sounds like something you'd order at a diner, but it's one of the basic building blocks of drumming.

After about twenty minutes, I realized something important.

I was getting a pretty good practice session.

I had also not cooked anything.

Experiment Two: Pots and Pans

This is where things got interesting.

A saucepan makes a surprisingly decent snare drum.

Not a good snare drum.

But a decent one.

A large stockpot has a deeper sound, kind of like a floor tom. A metal mixing bowl makes a fantastic crash sound, although it's a little more CLANG than CRASH.

I arranged everything around the kitchen like a drum kit.

Saucepan on the left.

Stockpot on the right.

Mixing bowl up top.

Two wooden spoons.

And a colander, because I liked the way it looked.

I started playing a basic rock beat.

The saucepan was my snare, the stockpot was my tom, and the mixing bowl was my cymbal.

The colander didn't sound very good.

It was mostly decorative.

Then I realized something else.

Different cookware has different resonant frequencies depending on its material, shape, and size.

This is actually similar to how drums produce different tones.

So technically, I was studying acoustics.

In the kitchen.

Without pants.

I had shorts on. Relax.

Experiment Three: The Gordon Ramsay Method

Now I wanted to combine actual cooking with rhythm.

I figured if chefs can move that fast while preparing food, I should be able to maintain a drumbeat while making dinner.

I decided on spaghetti.

Simple. Classic. Hard to screw up.

I set the metronome to 100 BPM and started stirring the sauce in quarter notes.

One stir per beat.

Easy.

Then I started tapping eighth notes with my other hand.

Still easy.

Then I tried adding a foot pattern.

This is where I learned that kitchen cabinets are not designed to be bass drums.

I also learned that you should not leave a wooden spoon resting against the side of a saucepan while you're trying to play a drum fill.

The spoon launched.

The sauce followed.

I don't know how the sauce got on the ceiling.

Physics is weird.

What I Actually Learned

Here's the crazy part.

Some of this genuinely helped.

Practicing rhythmic patterns on different surfaces made me pay more attention to stick control, timing, and dynamics.

Playing softly on a cutting board takes more control than just smashing the heck out of something.

And practicing patterns slowly before speeding them up is a legitimate way to improve muscle memory.

The kitchen experiments also reminded me how much drumming depends on listening.

A drum doesn't sound the same as a saucepan.

A saucepan doesn't sound the same as a stockpot.

And a mixing bowl doesn't sound the same after you drop it down the stairs.

That last one was unrelated to the experiment.

Mostly.

Obviously, cooking isn't a substitute for practicing on an actual drum kit. And I'm not recommending anybody use knives as drumsticks or play drums while handling hot food.

But practicing rhythms with safe household objects can be a fun way to work on coordination.

Just don't use the good cookware.

Apparently that's important.

The Results

I have compiled my findings into a scientific chart.

Overall, I consider the experiment a success.

I learned about rhythm, coordination, acoustics, and motor learning.

I also discovered that spaghetti sauce is extremely difficult to remove from a textured ceiling.

Jess says I'm not allowed to conduct any more experiments in the kitchen.

Tiff says I'm not allowed to write articles about science.

Jo asked if I made enough spaghetti for everybody.

And honestly?

That's why Jo's my favorite today.

Anyway, I'm thinking about trying baking next.

A stand mixer has adjustable speeds, which means it's basically a metronome with a bowl attached.

Stay crunchy,

Andi 🥁

P.S. If Gordon Ramsay ever reads this, I would like to challenge him to a drum battle. He can pick the song. I get to pick the cookware.

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