What does that look like?

Recently I heard someone use a phrase I really like.  “What does that look like?”  It was used in relation to behaviour. 
Like the expectation of a mentor.  For example, I may say “I’m a Master Chef.”  That would be easy to say, but it would be reasonable to ask what does being a master chef look like.”  I think it would be perfectly reasonable to assume I could cook.
Very quickly it would become obvious that I am not a master chef.  Quiet literally the proof of the pudding would be in the eating, and I would have a big fail against my name.
My strength is more in can opening.  When alone, Merril usually has prepared meals for me to eat.  She normally has provided cans of stuff I can have to.  That is when I come into my own.  Although I must admit there are some jars that seem to refuse to want to open.  But that is a challenge to me.
I use strength, hot water and every device known to man to get the jar open.  I even have used one of dad’s huge wrenches from a set of tools that were dad’s that Merril says would be perfect for building an ark.
But I had held on to them “just in case” and sure enough in year 63 or so of my life I was right - I DID need them.  It was its moment in the sun.  Well until I brought it into the house it was.  Anyway, I had a win.  But I digress.  Where was I?
The phrase, “What does that look like?”  I think is a great question to ask in relation to expectations.  So often things are written on a page but the doing of anything requires someone’s hands and feet.  I have procedures written for certain tasks and as far as I am concerned the writing of them is one thing, but seeing them outworked is the measure of success.
In fact, what something looks like is only seen to be understood when done.  It is no wonder it is said the proof of the pudding is in the eating.
I may it be a Master Chef, but I do enjoy eating.  The labour may not be mine, but I enjoy being a part of the fruits of the labour.  What something looks like is only seen for a moment.