I recently lived a dream that I had dreamed and ached for for many years. I became a chef. A real working chef in one of the best places in the world to cook. London.
When I trained under Chef Roberto Argentina in California, I fell in love with professional cooking. What started as a lark, inspired by watching too much Anthony Bourdain and Gordon Ramsay, turned into to something that infected my soul.
Chef Roberto was passionate, emotional, sometimes angry but always an artist. When I left his kitchen I knew how to hold a knife, plate a dish and shut my mouth. I also learned a lot of fundamentals. But shutting up was the hardest to learn. It has paid off.
One of the reasons that I came to London was to cook. When I first got here, I took a none cooking job to pay the bills. One day Jemma said; "Go cook. You came here to cook. Just quit work and go cook". Everything I was taught to think as a husband, father and provider told me that I should just stay at the job, enjoy the unattainable idea of being a proper chef as a fantasy and do nothing too dangerous.
But Jemma cared enough to say it and mean it. My brother and sister in law encouraged me. I came to London to take risks and find the "real me". The next day I quit working at the hospital and started looking for a chef gig.
After trolling ceaselessly through the job postings I got a call from the head chef of a soon to be opening restaurant in London Bridge. I went to the interview and was hired as a commis chef.
My first couple of weeks of "cheffing" had nothing to do with cooking. The restaurant was a building site. The stoves and refrigerators were bought used at an auction. In short, they were grungy, sticky, smelly and dirty. My days were spent with the French sous chef scrubbing sanitizing re cleaning, loading vans and carrying equipment up stairs.
After a lot of hard, dirty work, opening day was close. One of the most exciting thing ever said to me was "when you come tomorrow, bring your knives". My brother Gordon and my wife Jemma bought me some really kick ass Wusthof professional knives (kinda like buying a Porsche for a 16 year old).
We spent days prepping, chopping, pealing and cleaning. Always cleaning. I learned the magic of jus. A proper veal au jus sauce takes days of simmering, skimming, watching and loving. Chef Jake would make us tell the jus that we loved it. But the more you love the jus, the more beautiful it becomes.
Our first night was friends and family night. I was lucky enough to secure an invitation for Jemma, Aarti and Gordon. I was scheduled to work my first long shift (7:00am to midnight). I was so nervous. The feeling in my gut before service can can be compared to getting married, having a child or trying to kiss that girl for the first time.
Then the unthinkable happened. Jake told me "your station is up front tonight Pat". What? Up front? In an open kitchen where paying customers actually see you cooking their food? I was really nervous.
When we opened, the place was packed with a lot of London's movers and shakers. Everybody was a VIP. We were on stage and I had a speaking part. The biggest VIPs in my heart were Jemma, Aarti and Gordon. I couldn't wait to see them.
Guests kept coming up to the pass to take pictures of the kitchen and the chefs. Then a moment that has been etched in my heart happened. Jemma came to the pass to take my picture. I was beaming.
I prepped and cooked my ass off that day. I felt like I was way out of my league. I was on the line with two incredible chefs making real gourmet food. They made it fun. These guys couldn't stop screwing around. They were working like dogs and at the same time, totally screwing around and having fun. I was more in love with cooking than ever. I had my first taste of hard core, front line, high pressure cooking.
Everybody in the kitchen was great. The chefs were all patient and eager to teach. Everybody was a real team. Sometimes it felt like it was us against the world and look out world.
I got to stay at my station in the kitchen. I had become a proper chef. The fact that I was the oldest guy in the kitchen (by an average of 15 years) and the lowest ranked chef was only more a source of pride for me. I made the journey and won.
One of the downfalls of professional cooking is that it takes a long time in the business to make decent cash. I'm not a rich ex-pat with deep pockets so I had to leave the kitchen. I was gutted.
Working in the kitchen, the camaraderie, the love and support in my endeavor from my loved ones has been one of the most beautiful blessings in my life and I have no regrets.
At the expense of sounding cliche' I will say find your dream. Do something crazy. Defy conventional wisdom. Your bank account may not grow, but you will be richer.
Thank you Jake!!
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Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous,
ReplyDeleteThank you!!
Pat I'm confused, are you still in the restaraunt cooking or what?It's hard work for sure, but got to love fallowing your heart.
ReplyDeleteDan
Dan,
ReplyDeleteI left the restaurant. The money just isn't there.
I'm still cooking like crazy however.