Shit Happens....

Today, I took a pressure cooker top and hot garlic to the face, marking it by far the worst day of my culinary career. I remember telling my friend Roxanne's homegirl that I wanted to go to culinary school, and she flat out looked at me like I was crazy and asked me why I would want to do such a thing. She then proceed to roll up her sleeves and show me the scars that lined her once smooth arms. I remember being impressed. After she pulled her sleeves down, she told me stories of being verbally abused by chefs and the long hours with shitty pay. After like 5 years in the field she was just beginning to get the respect she deserved (yikes). At that time, I was making a very decent salary, living in a sweet studio in DC, going out to eat several times a week, vacationing several times a year, well respected at my job and in a loving relationship with the guy I liked since college ( all of which has since disappeared haha), but for some reason I felt like I wanted more... I wanted to make a difference in my world, I wanted to go to culinary school! I felt like there had to be more to life and with my interest in food and healthy eating I just knew that culinary school would be the door that would lead me into the great and exciting unknown that was my true potential, and perhaps even allow me to make my mark on the world. She probably laughed at my naïveté. Not so ironically, almost a year later I find myself icing down my face, praying that the swelling on my nose goes down, the second degree burns on my forehead wouldn't leave a permanent scar and that the chef that I'm interning for doesn't think that I'm a complete fuck up. I was warned.

Truth be told, at times I am a complete fuck up in the kitchen. Don't let the pretty pictures that I post on Facebook fool you. Cooking does not come naturally for me. It's hard and to some point actually stresses me out. On top of potentially scaring myself for life, I also almost ruined a pot of stock because I didn't read the recipe directions - big no no. I saw the chef get upset, and in that moment I wished that I could disappear. Mind you this was after she came back to her kitchen seeing me sitting on a stool, crying like a bitch with bits of garlic strewn all over the stove top - not a good look. So why do I keep doing this? Because I've also never been so happy in my life. Even after days like today, I don't for a minute regret my decision to chase this dream. I don't even know what dream I'm chasing anymore, all I know is that everyday I show up, and everyday I try my best and even after making mistake after mistake (everyday) they keep letting me back in the kitchen. They keep letting me back in the kitchen because, they know that it's part of the process. In conclusion, when chasing your own ridiculous dream, shit will happen.. Expect it. And when it does, wipe the garlic off your face, take a deep breath and keep it moving. You ( and hopefully the chef) will laugh about it later... I mean really who else would make garlic explode out of a pressure cooker????? :-P