It was 4:30 a.m. and pitch-black, and a nasty, chilly
drizzle was falling as I pointed my car toward the CIA. I peered through
the windshield, the monotonous rhythm of the wipers luring me back to the
sleep from which I had been so rudely and recently dragged. But the litany
of self-doubt that had nagged me for weeks was enough to keep me awake.
Could I measure up? At least not totally embarrass myself? What could I
have been thinking — and at my age? Pulling up to a tollbooth, I stuck a handful of coins
out into the predawn gloom. The attendant turned, and a big smile broke
across her face. “Oh,” she chirped, obviously having been awake
a lot longer than I, “I’ve always wanted to be a chef!”
Apparently so do many other people. A recent article
in the Wall Street Journal reported a 40 percent increase in enrollment in culinary
education in the last four years. But many quickly become disgruntled and
even angry about the grueling work, low pay, and long hours. Note: It’s important here to say that I’m
not a chef. I
have some professional training (the scenario above is from my time at the
Culinary Institute of America, considered the “Harvard of culinary
schools.” It was intimidating, but I didn’t disgrace myself; my only
embarrassing moment involved an improperly stored knife and a nasty cut.)
I’ve spent some time in professional kitchens and done some catering,
but that doesn’t make me a chef. This isn’t necessarily bad: As
someone who teaches and writes about food and cooking but isn’t a
professional chef, I’m in the company of — though certainly not
in the same league as — people such as Julia Child and James Beard. What most people don’t realize from watching
those fun shows on the Food Network is that professional cooking is hard
work — really, really hard work. I don’t want to trash all TV
food shows. True, some are pretty silly. Even so, most bring an awareness
of the value of good ingredients and the vast and varied world of good
cooking to the general public. But even the best of those TV chefs rose
from years of low-paying slave labor. They didn’t just magically show
up on a kitchen set and start making big bucks. As an aspiring chef, my nephew Max has prospects
better than those of most. His family lives and works in a converted
warehouse in one of Chicago’s trendiest areas. Growing up in a
professional photographic studio/event site, Max gets to rub shoulders with
the famous and powerful (Michael Jordan, Aerosmith, Chicago Mayor Richard
Daley). But he’s also the most capable 12-year-old I’ve ever
known: He’s a better photographer than many professionals and handles
expensive, delicate, and oftentimes heavy equipment with ease. He can set
up and break down events for hundreds of people and hang drywall like a
pro. Max understands the satisfaction of hard work, unlike a pampered young
woman I know. She’s never worked a day and thinks she might like to
be a chef because she enjoys making salsa. For anyone considering becoming a chef, here are a
few pieces of advice from the fringes of the profession: Read Kitchen
Confidential, by the undisputed bad boy of
chefs, Anthony Bourdain. Warning! This book is R-rated — maybe even
NC-17. The subtitle is Adventures in the
Culinary Underbelly, and Bourdain means it. It’s not for the young or
easily offended, but every chef I know says, “Yeah, that’s exactly how it
is.”
Read The Making of a
Chef, by Michael Ruhlman. This account of his
experiences at the CIA is a fascinating look at the rigors and rewards of
culinary education. Work in a
restaurant in any capacity, but especially in the kitchen. I mean a real restaurant where they
make the food on premises, not some place where cooking means opening
Cryovac bags from Central Processing. If you do all the above and still want to be a chef,
go for it — and if not, you can always have fun making salsa.
Send questions and
comments to Julianne Glatz at realcuisine@insightbb.com.
This article appears in Jun 15-21, 2006.
