We All Fall Down

I wouldn't be the person I am today if it weren't for all the things I have been through. And since I love who, what and where I am, I should be content with all that has happened in my life. I have been molded, forged and finished by both my successes and failures; probably more so by the latter. Some people perceive failure as a bad thing. Sure, it hurts. In the moment it’s sting is painful, quite often more mentally than physically, and especially so over time. It’s a thing that we can’t kiss and make better, take an aspirin for, bandage up, we just have to live it out, have it become part of us, and if we are lucky, learn from it.  We all fall down in different ways, physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally. Sometimes too, we don’t just fall down, we get knocked down. Regardless of the causation the next step is still the same; you decide if and how you want to get back up.

In my life as a Catering Chef I can say with ease that I have been in the most amazing circumstances and pushed myself to unthought of limits. No matter what the situation, you must remain in control, or at least portray the image thereof. On one such occasion we were catering an event at a private residence and had rebuilt the floorplan to accommodate the scale and attendance of the event. During the event I was bringing some glassware to one of the bars we had set up that was running low on glasses. As I did not want to lug the glass racks through the already crowded domicile and inconvenience the guests I chose the outside route around the side of the house.

Well most of these events take place at night, so it gets tricky outside, especially when your feet don't know the terrain. And as you can guess my foot found the uneven break in the slate tile walkway and I must have folded my ankle clean over. I mean, I could read the sole of my shoe. And down I went, glasses and all.

CRASH, whole house goes silent, eyes popping out the open windows, ankle snapped, writhing in pain. “CHEF WENT DOWN!” was all I heard from the illuminated interior of the house.

Ok, so there I am...what to do.What goes through my mind next is fascinating. It’s a lot like the 5 stages of grief.

“I’m fine!” I denied, “No, worries”, I popped back up to my feet, or in this case foot, man did it hurt. But I sure wasn’t going to let on. After all, I had a job to do.

“Almost dropped these glasses, but I’m alright.” Ok, more denial, but definitely mixed with some hidden anger, mostly at myself for falling down. I chose to skip (pun intended) altogether bargaining and depression and go right to acceptance. So after dropping of the glasses at the bar, that’s right, no breakage, luckily they landed on something soft, like me, and dismissing the frivolous inquiries of my well being, I made my way to the catering van for my emergency kit. You fix it, you don’t go home, you don’t even tell anyone it happened. Psychotic? Yea, pretty much, but that’s what a Chef does. We don’t stop. Well, that’s my style anyway. Duct tape and Advil.

The party went off without a hitch. And we pulled off a Sunday brunch the next day as well.

Pain and fear of pain is the most powerful human motivator. Shadowing wonderfully our desire for success, seeking pleasure and avoiding pain and failure, the process of falling down and getting up makes a great biography. For where there is one there is the faint outline of the other. That’s what makes carrying on through the pain possible.  We internalize the potential pain of failure as more painful than that of any perceived breakage that could occur during trying. Not going for it hurts more than going for it and not making it. That’s how people can run headlong into a situation that very well may cause them harm. They know it will be potentially less painful than if they don’t.

Moreover they can keep going even if the pain occurs for those same reasons. And with each passing occurrence of thought of failures, we grow towards and increase the chances that favor success.

So you're down. Regardless of how you got there, the next step is the same, if and how to get back up. It may be difficult, especially at first or even after constant repetition. What’s important is to keep at it. Every time we refuse to stay down and consciously choose to get back up we solidify a pattern of behavior. Pretty soon it becomes habitual, then it becomes your character. Ghadi may not have said it as such, but his notion was the same as the psycho tech speak; deliberate repetition builds automaticity.

When I fall, sure I’m upset, I’m human, but I know there is a benefit to it, especially when taken in the right spirit. Aside from building character and determination, getting up and brushing yourself off leads to higher quality learning. Studies show such self determination fosters autonomy and increases higher levels of learning, simply put, it generates more synaptic connectivity. So when people toss the old cliche at you that losing builds character take heart and chime in with, “Yea, and it makes me smarter too. Continued self determination leads to intrinsic motivation."

I never really trusted something that has not been tested. And in the testing, quite often there is failure. Edison confesses himself that much was learned in the some 9000 attempts at the light bulb before he got it right. Someone who has never failed has truly never been tested. There’s a difference between someone who has never failed and someone who has; It’s the ability to admit it. Everyone has failed at something at one time or another. The successful person perceives failure as a stepping stone, a learning opportunity, a way not to do it;  where as a person who has never admitted to have failed quite often perceives failure as a punishment and hides it like a stigma. Don’t be afraid to experience the way not to do something. Much like a bridge, that’s just something I don’t want to cross unless it’s been first tested. Don’t fear  those exquisitely painful moments of learning and growing towards something. Don't let your pride get in the way and avoid taking the lesson from the experience, because remember, we all fall down.

And so it begins

My name is Chef. My life has always revolved around food. As a child, growing up in an Italian family surrounded by food at every turn, in the jobs that excited my active, tireless, competitive, perfectionist persona,  and now in the culinary path it has laid out before me; it was a logical thing for me to become and live the life of a Chef. But the path of learning this craft was anything but easy; fun yes, easy no. It has been a life peppered with amazing successes and failures.  These countless moments have certainly made for a life of entertained learning. From years of experience these deeper truths now come to you so you may better understand, life....as a Chef..
As a child my earliest and fondest memories have always involved food. My entire family celebrated every meal; I say both that, we as an entire family, and that each meal was in fact celebrated. I grew up with meals that were made and shared with love. My parents, my grandparents, aunts and uncles all cooked, all had their thing they were known for, and each had its day or holiday to shine and share with family and friends. Holidays, celebrations, breakfast, dinner, even times of mourning, all had a common binding thread; food. That’s how I grew up.
When it came time for me to get my first job, I serendipitously found myself in the kitchen. Fast paced , demanding and precise, it suited me well. I played sports, I ran, I competed; this kitchen life was work I could relate to. It was competitive, draining, fulfilling. Even as I pursued my education, the pace and rigor of kitchen work was comforting to me. It provided purpose, immediate gratification, meaning. After fours years of working my way through  college, studying engineering, business, sociology and Japanese studies, I still felt called by the kitchen. But, if I were going to do this thing, be a Chef, I was going to do it right. Naturally I found myself, as many of our industry’s best do, at the best Culinary Institute for that purpose. And so I formalized my classical training, learned the way, and paid my dues. That’s how I was taught.

What I got next from all this was a career no one could have ever explained to me was possible. I have been a line cook, caterer, a media Chef and a consultant, a Restaurant Chef owner and a private Chef, and now after all that, I find myself as an Chef instructor at the Institution that helped forge my knowledge and skills. It’s a path that has taken me places that would boggle my high school guidance counselor’s mind, one that most “normal” people would find hard to understand, and to an even lesser degree, find enjoyable. It was all mine and I loved every minute of it, at least that’s how I remember it now. That’s how I was trained.

Looking back, I don’t think anything else would do. Chef, it had to be. And now as I Look forward I can share with you those moments. Moments where, in that crucible we call a kitchen, knowledge and habits are forged into the professional being we are. Throughout this Chef journey I have seen amazing things, disaster and success, and like brilliant ingots being quenched, knowledge and expertise are hardened and polished upon such reflections. So here, I will share those lessons and pass them along to you. They are entertaining anecdotes for sure, each holding at its core a lesson that comes only from the forging fires of a Chef’s life.