It’s the only rational explanation for why I still do this after nearly 25 years. It’s not the money, it’s not the fame, it’s the thrill of the reaction. I’ve worked with a lot of mediums as an Artist over the years and nothing, I mean fucking nothing compares to the power of food. Let’s make this real simple.
Food and Sex are the only two activities that engage all of your senses simultaneously.
I’ve spent many many nights pondering this and I’ve yet to find an exception to this.
99% chance that I’m not going to fuck that pretty girl at the bar. But if I do what I do I can still blow her mind. I was 17 the first time it happened. I had been up on a cooking/drug bender for 36 hours when they walked in. At that point, I was too tired and wasted to stand up but the other cook fucked up the order. When I found out who it was for I got a fifth wind and when I saw the look on their faces when my food hit the table, I became an addict instantly.
I’ve done a lot of drugs, I mean a fucking LOT OF DRUGS. Nothing compares to the look on a beautiful woman’s face when I feed her. I’ve climbed mountains, I’ve done ayahuasca, I’ve lived man. This is still my all-time favorite high.
To all of you ego trippin motherfuckers, listen up.
Fuck the attitude of going into a Saturday night as if it was battle. Fuck the idea that what we do is work. The pay sucks, the hours suck, the stress isn’t worth it. If you don’t love this, if you don’t love everything about what we do, from picking parsley to peeling garlic to sending out the 300th plate as if it was the only one of the night, get the fuck out of the Kitchen.
Seriously, cooking is about the love we put into everything we do. It doesn’t matter where you’re cooking or what kind of food you’re working with, all that matters is the love you put into it. There are much easier ways to pay your bills, in fact, I could go work at a weed store and make more than I make right now.
It’s easy to let the stress get to you. It’s easy to lose sight of what matters. It’s easy to let the small annoyances build up when you haven’t slept in what feels like weeks.
Tonight, make love.
Don’t go into battle, you’re not fighting anyone, you’re feeding them, you’re giving them life. If you’re stressed, they will feel it, your food, no matter how pretty it is will feel off. Slow down, focus, breathe homie. Make every step count, make every plate the best you can. Forget the ego, let go of the bullshit and remember why you fell in love with the Kitchen in the first place. I mean it when I say it….