You Should Go To Culinary School
When I was young, one of my go-to T.V. channels was the Food Network. It was on channel 47 back home, and if my favorite Disney Channel shows weren’t playing, you can bet I was flipping the remote to watch Rachel Ray’s “30 Minute Meals” or to chill out with Ina Garten for a while.
It’s so funny to look back on those memories, because in my head, they’re compiled like a movie montage. It’s like I have an outside view of myself and can see little Hannah watching Emeril in her childhood home, curled up in the old red recliner, completely enthralled. Fade out, and the next snippet is little Hannah asking her mom if she could maybe make chicken pasta for dinner that night all by herself. Fade out, and it's little Hannah making a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese, pretending she’s in a cooking show while she does it. Fade out, and it’s little Hannah filling in the word “chef” on her school worksheet that is asking what her dream job is.
It’s like looking back and watching a seed be planted, and then sprout, and then bloom. In the moments, it just felt like life. But rewinding, it becomes so easy to see the path being laid out, and myself walking, excitedly at times and cautiously at others, further into the thick of the dream that was being created more and more as I went.
And on that path, was a very bright and exciting stop that I still look back on with so much fondness, even as the years take me further and further from it.
I can very honestly say that culinary school was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I can remember tossing around the idea of forgoing a 4 year degree and pursuing baking and pastry arts as a career, and knowing that just about every adult would urge me to do otherwise. I can remember, after 2 years of college and a gen ed degree for nothing in particular, I was tossing around the idea of pursuing English education but didn’t feel settled in the slightest about it. Culinary school was in the back of my head the entire time, and seemed to be the prospect that excited my heart the most. But I wanted so badly to not make a fool of myself. I knew there would be those that would turn up their nose if I went down that road.
And then, one Sunday morning, the church service was almost over and I walked down the aisle to pray at the altar to try to offer up the decision to God and take my hands off of it. Funnily enough, halfway through the prayer, I stopped asking for God to take the decision and do what He wanted with it, and started praying for boldness. That He would use culinary school to bring glory to Himself. Somehow, a decision was made mid-prayer, and I told my parents that same day that I was planning on going to culinary school.
I remember being so nervous on my first day. Back then, I was even more anxiety filled than I am today. I had bought a uniform and my knives. I had my books and had gone through orientation. It was raining really hard that morning, and for some reason, that just added to my general feeling of fear. I told my mom I was nervous, she told me it was all going to be okay and just to get the first day out of the way. It would be smooth sailing from there. So, I put on my rainboots, and drove to campus.
That morning, I met my best friend. Her name is Olivia, and she has been a blessing ever since. (There’s just something about college friends.) I had 2 instructors that were both fabulous in their own ways, and from then on, it was learning the basics of cooking and baking, and how to build on top of them.
During my first semester, part of my homework every weekend was to take a potato home, and practice my knife skills. We would be assigned a specific cut, and would have to bring our potato back on Monday (all brown of course) perfectly diced into ¼ in cubes. We did everything from knife skills, to pasta making, to bread baking, to cake icing. The entire culinary department ran a restaurant together where the pastry students got to plan and build their own single serving desserts. We did more dishes than I had ever done in my life (up to that point at least, but there will be more on that later). We had a sandwich day for staff and students (where I had to cook steaks to order and I learned I never wanted to work on a kitchen line.. Ever.). We learned how to price out menu items and run a profitable business. It was heaven for me. Every day immersed in a world that I loved and was determined to be successful in. Every day, taking the hand of little Hannah and validating those small stirrings in her heart that got planted there so early on.
It seems I’ve been carried along in one way or another since then, so I’ve tried my best to keep my hands off of it and let it unfold however it is meant to. I thought I had let go of it entirely there for a minute after owning the pie shop, but somehow, it just keeps coming back around and working out.
Today, I hope, if it is at all possible, that you look back on your life and try to recognize whatever it is that has been growing there all along. It can be so hard to see when you’re in the middle of it. And if you find it, I hope you give it a wink and a nod, and start thinking “Hm.. Maybe that pursuit is worth it.” Because, as cliche as it may be, it hasn’t all been easy on this road, but it has all been worth it.