#Flashbackfriday to when I was in culinary school. Balancing school and work was not an easy task. I’d leave home before 6:30 a.m. and only come back after 11:30 pm..

The reality is that in this biz, I am still a rookie.

There is a culinary world I have yet to discover. But day in and day out, I am absorbed by this creature that occupies the majority of my time. A creature that is the beginning thought and finishing thought of the day. Late nights, long days, burns and cuts. And yet, I love this world.

Nothing could have prepared me better for this life then the actual experience endured.

This journey I am on started my first year of college, which I only attended because it was the “smart” thing to do. It was the thing that would make my parents proud. Anyways, I spent more time skipping class and eating with friends than actually studying. I dreaded sitting through a lecture. I dreaded being at the school. I liked being at work. At that time, I worked for a fast food chain at the mall. I enjoyed working, I enjoyed moving around and being active in a workplace. My restless soul was released from the bondage of traditional learning.

“I began to take the necessary steps to get back on track, but nothing felt right so I dropped out of school. At this point there was only one thing I knew I loved—food.”

As the semesters went by, my grades began to decline. My interest for college was peaked and on a downward slope. In the middle of one semester, I took a humanitarian trip that was supposed to last for one week and turned into three. When my feet hit U.S. soil and my eyes glared at an “academic probation” letter, displeasure and dissatisfaction arose. I began to take the necessary steps to get back on track, but nothing felt right so I dropped out of school. At this point there was only one thing I knew I loved—food. I went to the nearest culinary school, took my mom (who didn’t know I dropped out), took a tour, and enrolled. All this in a matter of three days. Impulsive, I know.

What I knew about working in a restaurant and becoming a chef was limited to the Food Network, home cooking, and that cooking class I took in high school. (I was only there for the brownies.) None of these things are anything like a restaurant. So on my first day of culinary school my nerves were uncontrollable.  I was standing next to people, who actually had experience and were there for the title as well as to advance in their careers. I was there as a last resort. I could not foresee my last resort, would be the best one by far. I was one of three females in a class of 40 students.

This rookie did two years in culinary school, while working at a fast food place. At work, I’d occasionally sneak into the back to build chicken sandwiches and fry potatoes just for fun. My only days off were Sunday’s. But immediately after graduation, I officially started my first restaurant kitchen job.

Everyone has a place in life, and mine wasn’t in traditional college. This is my piece of ground in the world. And I’m building on it. My restless soul found solace in an unorthodox place.
The Kitchen.