Chef at Home

A fine line is walked in kitchens.

Sharp as a knife wet against stone.

We are to stand book straight but hope it is only quiet discipline we exude. Never to be mistaken with vapid cockiness.

The line we walk is as fine as cable pulled taut between two towering buildings, and we are to stay alive by balancing between:

confident & humble
knowing & clueless
teachable & skilled
frightened & brave
deferential & friendly
macho & passive
one-of-the-guys & on-the-outside
aggressive & patient
smart & base
experienced & young
cocky & stupid

always.

Sound easy?

It's not. In fact, one might say, in the whirl of confusion these colluding and colliding directives create, one achieves it, merely by spinning out of control in an attempt to be all things to all chefs in all kitchens everywhere.

And while it can be said that all kitchens speak the same language, it's impossible to know which costume to don from one kitchen to the next.

So what I say to you is this:

walk in to a kitchen like it is someone else's home. walk in to their home like they are colleagues of your parents or your grandparent's friends. do not walk in like it's  frat house. do not stroll into the small dog park if you're a rottweiler. do not take up a lot of space with your voice or your person or your neediness or your fright. be professional and courteous and pay close attention to the customs so you can follow them with as much ease as you can muster. walk into the kitchen on time. {"if you're on time you're late," as a friend of mine says.} walk in groomed. walk in with two sharpies in your pocket & a notebook beside it. one sharpie is thin for taking notes, the other is bold for masking tape labels. ask what the chef wants to be called. pay attention to the tone, the volume, the attitude the other cooks display and make sure yours, as a guest in that kitchen, is softer, more polite and clearer than the rest. 

but

never act like you are above anyone. not other cooks, not the pastry department, not prep staff, not dishwashers, not waiters, not bussers, not coat check, not owners. no one. you are above no one. you are a worker among workers. no matter what your title. no matter what it says on your jacket. no matter where you went to school or who you worked for last.

When you first walk into a kitchen, you are humble. You own humility. Look it up. It does not mean you exist only to be humiliated. It does not mean to exude shame. It does not mean you attach a green light to your forehead and affix a sign between your shoulder blades that says, "Step on me. I am a rug you should feel delighted in wiping your muddy feet on. I am a doormat, a stupid rock, a worthless piece of poo."

Being humble means being teachable. It means asking pertinent questions and paying close attention to the answers. It means being quiet and learning by watching before doing. It means being one with your fellows. It does not mean terminally unique. 

being humble
is the opposite of 
feeling entitled.
standing with
is the opposite of
privilege.
acting like a worker among workers

means just that.

I may sound like a Socialist or a Communist or like some hippy radical intellectual academic philosophizing pollyanna. You can call me whatever name you want.

But I've worked in a lot of kitchens.

And I've stepped into even more. 

And I am usually invited back.

Because no matter how many years I've worked, and how many amazing people I have worked with and for, and how many services I've been demolished by, and how many mistakes I've learned from, and how many tears of mine have fallen on the floor– only to co-mingle with fryer oil food scraps, and no matter how many jobs I haven't gotten, no matter how well I know The Weeds, and no matter how many cuts & burns I've accumulated and patched up on others, and no matter how many times I've packed my knives & said goodbye,

no matter how many,

whether the number be one or too many to want to remember

I remain a worker among workers.

I stand on the same line, on the same side, with.

*

/this post was inspired by these two quotes:

"Why We Do What We Do. It’s about the peo­ple, the places, the peo­ple… Not for­get­ting how to
make things, how things are made, who is mak­ing them and why… show­ing
it to oth­ers and want­ing to share what we find in the world, it’s
about travel and dis­cov­er­ing and learn­ing." ~ Kiosk.

"This is my living faith, an active faith, a faith of verbs:
to question, explore, experiment, experience, walk, run, dance,
play, eat, love, learn, dare, taste, touch, smell, listen, argue,
speak, write, read, draw, provoke, emote, scream, sin, repent,
cry, kneel, pray, bow, rise, stand, look, laugh, cajole, create,
confront, confound, walk back, walk forward, circle, hide, and
seek. To seek: to embrace the questions, be wary of answers." ~ Terry Tempest Williams

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3. Becoming a Chef. What’s the hurry?
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