School of Culinary Arts: Lessons Learned
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In an effort to understand food better, I enrolled in culinary school in early February of this year. 90 sunsets have now past since I first buttoned my white chef’s coat. Here is some of what I’ve learned:
School of Culinary Arts: Lessons Learned
When I was a kid, food meant one thing: eating. As I approach my thirties, I no longer see it in this narrow light. No matter who we are, where we come from or what we believe, food connects us. When we come together around a table ––whether we are discussing food or just eating it––we are strengthening the ties between us.
In an effort to understand food better, I enrolled in culinary school in early February of this year. 90 sunsets have now past since I first buttoned my white chef’s coat. Here is some of what I’ve learned:
- 1. Pain builds character. Unlike most hobbies or professions, I can chart my progress with a trail of scars on my left hand. I can’t say for certain why it’s my left hand that regularly falls victim to hot sheet pans, paring knife jabs and bubbling grease but I can tell you that my husband finds it all very concerning. I rather like it though—my imperfect skin. It reminds me of where I’ve been. It reminds me that nothing is free.
- 2. Success is directly related to risk. I assumed for a couple of years that it was too late for me to switch paths –– mostly because I had already established a stable career as a graphic designer. Since enrolling at the Midwest Culinary Institute, I have come to know that life’s greatest rewards are hidden around its unexpected corners.
- 3. Mistakes are catalysts for growth. There should be a 12-step program for perfectionists. Since there isn’t, there’s culinary school. The first time I burned a pan of Anna Potatoes in a Viking oven, I was forced to confront the reality that not everything was going to go as I hoped. The one thing I’ve always been able to control is how hard I work, how often I show up and how willing I am to bounce back from failure.
- 4. My gut is my most reliable guide. Learning to trust my own instinct has been a process. Thankfully, “on the line,” there is little time to second-guess. In the heat of the moment, under the sweeping motion of the second-hand, I’ve had to rely on my own inner voice. When I think the oven temperature should be lowered, it usually should. When I think a sauce needs more salt, it usually does.
- 5. I get out what I put in. I now survive in the belly of an instructional kitchen, hurry under its florescent lights and sweat over its grungy burners. My hands, soggy like noodles, are constantly wrinkled from being plunged in a soapy dish tank. The most surprising part of working this hard is how energized I feel. Julia Child once said, “Life itself is the proper binge.” It took years to really understand what she meant. Now I can say I do.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Courtney Tsitouris is a graphic designer, cook and the author of epi-ventures.com, a blog about dining in and dining out in Cincinnati. Along with her husband and hyper-active terrier, she lives in a “painted lady” in Cincinnati’s oldest neighborhood, Columbia Tusculum. Catch up with her on Twitter or Facebook or email her at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).
