Mmmmmmmm

7-4-15

Just like music, I feel food is a universal language. A language spoken with flavors and colors rather than chords and melodies. Food can create so many feelings. It can remind you of times long past. Just the smell of certain things cooking can bring my grandma into the room as if she is sitting right next to me. The right meal can set the mood of love. As cheesy as this may sound, I got my first few girlfriends with my cooking. Not that I'm really all that talented, but just the simplicity of creating a dish for someone is incredibly endearing. Food can tell your story, your families story. It can be used to show how much you care about someone. I've spent entire days on meals for people because I want the care in my cooking to reflect the way I care for them. Where I went wrong was taking this beautiful expression of the soul and exploiting it to pay my bills. Now I sitting here, typing, is a jaded professional cook. I use the term "professional" extremely loosely here. Like a XXL on a toddler loose. If you ever working in a kitchen with me, the fastest way you can elevate my temper is calling me by the name "chef". I have not put in the classical training to deserve such a title. Although, I have ran a kitchen, well I might add, this was due to being in a place that needed someone and I just happened to be standing there, What a great way to be promoted right? Out of sheer necessity. I was never granted the entire control that a true "chef" would be entitled. I never got to have a direct say at manager meetings. Even though I worked as hard as possible to turn the kitchen around I didn't have any say in the new menu they rolled out shortly before I left. I had no respect, and worse, no trust. I had left a job working for one of the more renown chefs in this area, Peter Tinsen, to work full time as kitchen manager for their Irish Pub. I had sentimental reason for going there due to my heritage and also I really liked to drink at the time, so I was an easy sell. Over the course of the entire two years I was with that company I slowed lost my passion for cooking. I started cooking less and less at home and the love I once had for my job was gone. I wish that I could tell you that this story has a happy ending, but unfortunately, at this point, it does not. These years wasted taught me a valuable lesson though. No matter how much you love something, being in the wrong situation, working for the wrong people, can stifle this passion. That is why I am taking this class, writing this blog. To find a way out of this cycle of abusing my passion in the name of money.