A step you understand is a step you can adapt when your oven runs hot or your bunch of asparagus is thicker than ours. Instructions without reasons are just superstition.
If a dish needs twenty-two minutes, it says twenty-two. Nothing is rounded down to look faster than it is, and a timing we have not measured ourselves is labelled an estimate rather than passed off as fact.
Most recipes reach the index only after being made enough times that the notes stopped changing. When one is published before that — a method we are confident in, with hours we have not yet clocked — it carries a notice at the top of its page. You should never have to guess which kind you are reading.
Ingredients listed in the order you reach for them, steps you can follow with one hand, and a page that prints without the photographs — because most of these recipes end up propped against a mixing bowl.