Originally Written About a Work-Mate, but Actually A Few Words to My Former, Yet Still Lingering, Self.


Man, I hear you.  And I wish you could hear yourself right now.  I see through you.  And I wish you had eyes.  I know you.  I wish you knew yourself.

You’re over there, waving your knife around when it should be cutting, blasting off your mouth when you should be focusing, angry when you should be happy, jealous when you should just step up your game.

I see now what you are really saying.  It took me a little while, because I thought your strong opinions about people and systems, and “the man” was a sign of strength.  But you’re actually not conveying to me your well-formed opinions at all.  Your humor and sarcasm that once conjured deep belly laughs only summon an awkward smirk in me now.  You’re not coming from a place of solidarity at all.  You’re covering something up.

See, everytime you diss culinary school, calling it a waste of money, a brainwash; everytime you angrily critique one of the great chefs; each time you call yourself a rogue chef; you’re just hiding the fact that you’re lazy, scared, and insecure.  Do you realize that bro?

Everytime you take a shortcut in your cooking, leaving the seeds in the tomatoes, using SYSCO product, plating up pre-frozen hor d’ oeuvres, letting color get on that omelet, overfrying that crappy fish, donning that dirty ass apron again; everytime you take another mediocre job, you’re soul silently weeps deep inside.

You poo poo cooking competitions, timelines, precise grill marks, perfect knife cuts, the crispest Maillard sear, foams, clean and hot plates, white table cloths.  And you do all this not because you have waning respect for that world, not because you lack a competitive nature, or because you have low standards.  You lash out cuz it all takes a discipline you decidedly don’t have, and that eats you up inside.  So to glaze over that pain, to avoid being revealed, you attack.  And I must say, it is funny.  You’re a funny dude.  Everyone thinks so.  But it’s weak.  And kinda pathetic, bro.

It’s time to step into yourself.  Time to believe.  It’s time to put in the hard work to accomplish what you really want.  Stop taking the easy way out.  Stop being the nice guy.  Make it happen my friend.  And I will bow to you.


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