Doubts.

When I first dreamed about attending culinary school years ago, I never imagined myself becoming a chef, or owning a restaurant.  I just wanted to learn how to cook.  I wanted to entertain friends and family, and I wanted to be damn good at it.  I had no idea who Gordon Ramsay, Thomas Keller, or Joel Robuchon were, nor did I aspire to be them.  Is that odd?  You might be thinking, "Then why go to culinary school when you can just take a few instructional classes on the side?  Why waste all that money?"  The only answer I have is that this is something I've wanted to do for over half my life.  I wanted to live abroad (France specifically), and I wanted to learn French cuisine from the French themselves.  I wanted to be able to cook and entertain friends at my house.  I didn't want to be some fake-ass-Rachael-Ray-copycat.  I wanted Michelin star experience under my belt, and I wanted to bring that level of quality and excellence into the home kitchen for friends and family.  It is a lousy explanation, I know, but this is how I feel.

At times I feel as if I were pressured into wanting to be a chef.  Today I am staging at a restaurant and I am unsure whether or not I want to pursue this as a career.  My friends and coworkers talk to me as if they're planning my future for me.  "You're going to be a chef.  You will be the next Top Chef.  You will have your own TV Show like 'Hell's Kitchen,'  You're going to make so much money.  We can't wait until you open your own restaurant."

First of all, for every 1 chef that makes it big there are a million more who are broke and struggling, and I am not a prodigy.  This is not the path that I want.  I've tried explaining my intentions and feelings to my friends, but I am immediately shut down with assurance that I will be "God's greatest gift" to the culinary world, or that I am being ridiculous.

I am now a month into my stage and it has become a love-hate relationship.  The prep work is ok for the most part, but when it gets bad, it gets BAD!  The other week I had to clean a whole hotel pan (roughly 30lbs) full of Jerusalem artichokes.  I stood in front of a sink for 4 hours scrubbing the damn things.  The bristles on the brush I used began to fall off from the scrubbing.  I almost quit that day, but I persevered.  I spoke to one of the cooks this past weekend and she mentioned that everyone was talking about how bad they felt for me.  I just laughed it off, but I am secretly fearful of the day I get that task again.  I don't know what I will do.

Sometimes when I am about to give up, something happens that draws me back to the restaurant.  This past weekend, one of the cooks commissioned me make a component for one of the dishes he cooks.  He gave me a recipe list and after I gathered everything, he taught me how to make it.  As he was teaching me each step, he went into detail about why it was made this way, why I had to do this, what the outcome would be if I were do to it one way versus another.  I really enjoyed this.  I got to put my hands in something that would be served.  It isn't like the pastry line where I just plate something.  I actually cooked food with my own hands (even though it was very basic)!  It is little moments like these which make the grind all worth it.  Also my friendship with Ms. Stars is starting to progress very well.  I look to her for advice and companionship. 

In closing, I must reiterate my doubts on becoming a chef.  This is/can be a very tough field to work in.  I applaud all the cooks and chefs out there.  These people are super soldiers and should be revered.  They've sacrificed their family, friends, and a life of leisure to serve you, the customer.  All I can say is Thank You for doing what you do.  I will still go to culinary school as I have always planned to do, but what I do afterwards is still up in the air.  Time will tell.