new horizons

It has been 10 years of blood (real ) sweat (buckets) and tears (ooohhh the tears) and I am finally ready to throw in the towel. I am going to stop cooking professionally and go back to school.

Cooking in professional kitchens shaped me into the person that I am, and I am happy to take all the new personality traits I acquired with me to the next chapter in my life. I am tough. At first I was a bit too tough, and maybe/probably got called a bitch behind my back. It's hard keeping up with the Jone s. I had a tendency to overcompensate. When the Jones' are a bunch of tattooed, beer worshiping, sailor mouthed, bathroom humour loving dudes, you can't be shy. You have to roll up your sleeves, quit bitching about the heat, and respond " that's what she said" faster than anybody else.

Second, third, and fourth skins are developed early. I decided to molt a layer every two years or so. In my first position as a sous chef I am sure, and fine with the fact that there were people who feared me. I know I was a bit verbally aggressive, but it got the job done. I have very high standards for quality of work and work space. If the work was mediocre I would voice it. I didn't let much slide. There was a cook who would smoke 4 consecutive cigarettes before coming on line for dinner service because he was so nervous around me. I was bossy and aggressive, and confident. I was 22 when I got a call from a cook's wife who was upset that I had called her husband into work on his kid's birthday(major drama had prevented the cook on duty that day not to show - some say deviated septum- some say nasty coke habit). I had passed on a message from the chef that this cook was to come into work that night, if he didn't he would be out of a job. His wife was reaming me out on the phone. It was sooooo awkward. In the end though he did come into work. I was such a bitch. I guess I thought that because I was working 12-16 hour shifts, everyone else's lives had to suffer too. Not cool.

I have since had 3 more sous positions, and have learned to mellow out. I saw that if you want to work with people and extract their full potential, you have to show them that you wouldn't ask them to do anything that you weren't willing to do yourself. Scrub the greasy fryer with petrified calamari from 3 days ago stuck to the bottom, get on your hands and knees in the walk in fridge and mop up the salmon juice that smells like death, get up after 4 hours of sleep and a 12 hour shift to work a double shift from 8am-12pm. They will follow your lead, sing your praises, and learn and grow as cooks and chefs. It's a good feeling.

It's a good feeling until your back feels as though there are 3 pairing knives lodged in between the last two vertebrae, and your knees scream at you after shift and moan and groan in the morning. Standing on a tiled floor for such long periods of time mixed with lifting ( I really should have used my legs, not my back) stock pots that when empty weigh about 1o pounds ( with 30 litres of water and 50 lbs of bones added) really kicks the shit out of your body!

I kept cooking for 4 years after a I fell out of love with it. I longed to have time for family,a boyfriend, weekends off, a life :(. The list of careers that I considered and researched is a long one. I would romanticize about hairdressing, travel writing, photography.... Nothing seemed legitimate enough to quit cooking so I kept going.

At my last job, at a restaurant where I was hired back for the 3rd time and though things would be different, I had a rude awaking. Not only did things not get better, my hours were longer, I didn't have benefits, and the workload had increased because of a new business venture by the owner. I had hopes of climbing the rest of the ladder there. I though that if I stuck in there I would get the position as chef whenever it came up. But as week after week went by with my body, mind, and relationships falling apart, I didn't think it was worth it anymore.

To carry on cooking, at the calibre that I feel happy with, I would have to keep working stupid hours and forfeit my life for my job. I don't want that job more that I want to have kids, to travel, and to spend time with the people that I love and think are interesting.

so....

I am pulled up my pants and made a decision. I am going to study and practice massage therapy as an RMT- registered massage therapist. I think that because it's hands on, and I will be helping people get better and feel more comfortable, I will be pretty good at it. I start school on August 31st and I am excited. This new start is welcome by me and those around me who know that I needed a change. Thanks for the support and wish me luck.