The Upsides of Being A Chef

Hey! I’m here! I’m not dead! Sorry about the absence, everyone. I should have said something before I left. I took some away-from-the-internet time to get some things done around the house, have a lovely birthday with Liz and retreat up to a cottage in Val-des-Monts for a while. There wasn’t much in the way of cell service or internet up there, so it really was a nice way to relax, unplug and take some time to focus on the important things.

Things like spending quality time with Liz, playing with our adorable new nephew and cooking meals for the family. I did some nice cooking up there. BBQ chicken with collard greens and mashed potatoes. Grilled sausages with macaroni salad. A boatload of creamy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and toasted challah for breakfast one day. And, of course, some requisite grilled hot dogs.

But, this post isn’t about any of that. It’s about something I thought of while sitting on the dock, beer in hand, looking out over the water. That thought was that even though I no longer really identify as a chef, I suppose at heart I’ll always be one. My peers seem to agree. It feels nice to have earned a title that I really think needs earning. Even if it’s not my principal personality trait anymore.

Being a chef has done a lot for me. Although I gripe about how hard it is and about the industry, I really do love a lot about it. I don’t think I could have done it for so long if that wasn’t true. It’s a career that’s given me a lot, beyond the skill set that I’m so proud of, beyond the ability to make delicious food for people I care about.

As a kid, I was pretty meek. I was timid, shy, frightened a lot of the time. In grade school and junior high, I was mercilessly bullied. By high school, I’d learned to crack jokes and be a wiseass, which gave me some measure of popularity, but I never felt a sense of confidence and belonging until I set foot in a professional kitchen.

I took pride in working longer and harder than other people I knew. It gave me a backbone. I knew the joys of being a craftsperson, of creating with my hands. I learnt about all the wondrous flavours and textures out there. Every new discovery was something I wanted to share with everyone I knew. If they loved it as much as I did, I’d feel like a guide to a secret world.

Working as a chef also taught me punctuality, reliability and the value of hard work. There’s no leaving things to the last minute in kitchens. You never lose that mentality, either. Once you start with the cooking mindset, you daily task list falls before you like dominoes, so you’re quickly able to put your feet up and order Dominoes.

In addition to building confidence, teaching you a valuable skillset, giving you an appreciation for fine food and drink, and turning you into a lean, mean productive machine, there’s also the fact that it’s physical work. Now that I don’t work in a kitchen 60-70 hours a week, I find my thrice-weekly gym workouts don’t always leverage themselves against my eating habits the way they used to. But before, those sessions in combination with my walks to and from work, as well as the physical aspect of the shifts themselves, meant I was more able to indulge before the results made themselves visible on my waistline.

So, that’s what I was thinking about. I could go into more detail, but if we’re being honest, I’m absolutely exhausted from rushing back into Ottawa yesterday to take Sven to an emergency vet visit. He’s fine now, but it was a long stressful day. And if you’ve ever tried to give a rabbit his medicine, well, you know what a chore that can be. So, I’m going to keep my vacation vibe going the best way I know how – a midday nap.

But, in closing, let me say this: I know I rag on the business sometimes, but becoming a professional cook and then a professional chef was a really great move for me. Maybe it’ll be a great one for you, too. And if you’re already one, let me know in the comments below or via email some of the positive things the job has done for you.