The Detour
It’s difficult to deal with going to college for the third time. Something about the third-go-‘round makes you feel like you don’t have your life in order. When you’re 25-years-old and still trying to figure out what you’re going to do for a career while racking up student loan debts, you start to wonder if you’re living a bit too impulsively.
But at the same time, it’s exciting. Especially when you know that this is what you’re supposed to be doing. I’ve had an incredible amount of fun cooking over the past four years. I have had some amazing experiences and learned a lot. My boss tells me I’m foolish for wanting to quit cooking. And from his perspective, he’s got a point. I’ve worked at some great restaurants and have learned a lot in the short time I’ve been cooking. And I love cooking. And when I’m done, I’m going to miss it. A lot.
In fact, I’ve been thinking about that quite a bit lately. As teaching becomes more and more real, between classes and substitute teaching, I’m beginning to get a little distressed about leaving cooking behind. Six months ago, I was frustrated, burnt-out, ready to drop it all at once. Since then, things have calmed down, I’ve moved from the grill station to pastry and left most of my stress behind. While I enjoy pastry (and it’s something I’ve always wanted to do), it wasn’t until I started working a couple saute shifts that I really was reminded, for the first time in probably eight or nine months, what I really loved about cooking. It’s demanding, it’s hot, it’s grueling, but it’s so satisfying. To work saute on an evenly-paced night and to have the time to make sure every dish you plate is perfect: that’s a hard thing to match.
I started reading Bill Buford’s “Heat” last week. This book made a splash when it was published, but as an industry insider, I passed it off as being of no interest to me. (The book is an account of a journalist working for free in Mario Batali’s restaurant.) But reading it has been inspiring because Buford is relaying accounts of experiences that I have gone through, often with a perspective different than mine, and it is causing me to think about those experiences and reflect on them. I’m reminded of some of my formative kitchen experiences and, even though I dreaded them at the time, I look back on them with a degree of fondness.
When my mind was settled that I was going to become a history teacher, I was far from settled on what that meant for my cooking career. Many people have asked me if that means I’ll quit cooking entirely. To be honest, I’m not sure. A couple months ago, I would have said “yes, I’ll be totally done.” Mostly because that seemed the most realistic possibility. Cook during the summers? Yeah, maybe, if I can find a restaurant to hire me seasonally. But what if I take on additional jobs or assignments with my school that take place over the summer? Cooking during the school year seems highly unlikely. And I’m not going to want to sacrifice my holiday vacation time to go sweat in a restaurant kitchen. But now, I’m so bummed out about not cooking that I start to tell myself that I could still cook a little here and there while teaching. I’m not sure how realistic that is, but it’s helping to raise my spirits a little.
For the past couple years, I haven’t really been doing many stages (working for free for a day or two) around town, mostly because I’ve established solid connections with enough local chefs that it’s not really necessary for my career. But lately I’ve had the urge to start doing them again, just for the sake of inspiration, to see what other chefs are doing. I’ve also been keen to talk to other cooks quite a bit about their experiences, their views (often regarding my career move), and their goals. I’ve made a lot of friends in this business and many of them I hope to keep even if I never cook professionally again.
There are some people in my life who, when I explain my reasons for changing careers, see it as clearly as I do and pat me on the shoulder and reassure me that I’m making the right move. But there are also other people who don’t see it that clearly and assume I’m just not seeing the big picture with cooking and am jumping ship. That doesn’t bother me because if I were to define the single biggest factor, it would be a pretty abstract one that would mean nothing to a lot of people, but would mean everything to a few.
As much as I love cooking in restaurants (trust me, cooking at home is not nearly as fun), I know I’m making the right move. Right now I really fear being completely cut off from restaurants. Maybe I’ll have to ease the break by calling upon my old chefs to let me come in and stage or work a ridiculously minimal schedule. But when I think about this dread and struggle with quitting, I come to a gratifying realization. Over the past few years, I’ve often wondered if culinary school or the cooking career in general was a mistake, something I did impulsively and foolishly. But I now have no regrets. Cooking has given me a lot of rewards. Maybe it has just been a five-year detour in my life, but I think I am better off for having taken it.
