I am a chef but I don’t like cooking. WTF?

I get many people coming up to me saying how much they love cooking, how they experiment all the time in the kitchen, and a list of the TV food shows and chefs they follow.  I respond “great”, secretly thinking, “that’s not me, should I tell them?”

They think they are pleasing me or can relate to me by saying these kinds of things because obviously I am a chef so I love to cook, right?

This is a good example of how assumptions can blind you.

I may wear the chef jacket and I can create award-winning food with the best of them but I don’t like cooking.

I’m not sure what people think chefs and cooks do in professional kitchens all day but it’s the opposite of glamorous and bears no resemblance to what they see on reality TV food shows.

It’s hard physical mind-numbing work prepping the same thing day after day, whether standing on a concrete floor for 12 hours chopping or in front of a hot stove without air conditioning moving large hot pots, pans and trays around other cooks in tight quarters. And then there is a grime and grease that seems to settle on everything, including yourself, no matter how much you clean.

Here’s my truth.

I adore creating. I love going to farmers markets to see the incredible fresh produce that farmers have lovingly parented from seed to market. I delight in imagining how I can please, surprise and amuse guests with food as my creative tool.

Food is more than cooking for me.

I like the possibilities that cooking offers to transform raw ingredients into a dish that becomes a taste memory. Some of my favourite things are not even cooked. A freshly picked tomato or cucumber from the garden, sliced and sprinkled with sea salt for example.

Traveling inspires and energizes me. Visiting local farms and food markets around the world even though I don’t understand the language. Tasting food made with love and care, where ever it may be.

It could be a popular chef-owned local restaurant but more often it’s at a nondescript street cart, a secret hole-in a-wall with no name but the locals frequent, a road side stand that I happen to grab something at but pause when the food is amazing, or in someone’s small home where the kitchen, dining and living area are combined in one room and family gather to eat and connect over home cooked meals made with love.

For me, cooking is all about people.  I cook for others.  I love sharing food with others.

If I can transmit the feeling of love through the food I create, could I also do it through my selection of words on a page?

I wanted to try and thus start blogging.

I love writing. I have written all my life. As a young girl, I wrote when I felt sad, distressed or alone. My diary became the friend who was always there to listen to me. This is one of the reasons I continue to write today.

After college, I went into the Marketing Communications field where I wrote a lot for companies under their brand and voice. I hadn’t found my own yet.

In 1994, I went to the Former Soviet Union as a Red Cross relief worker. This was before the age of Internet, email, social media, and long-distance calls home were a lesson in patience and hope. I felt sad, distressed and alone at times, and without the ability to quickly connect with loved ones back home, I turned to writing again.

My friends were curious to hear about my daily life in a country they knew little about. That’s when I started the letters home. I would write a letter home on my daily life and adventures,  fax it to my boyfriend at home, and he would copy it and send it to my friends.

This is why I transitioned easily and eagerly into blogging, to again share my stories and life.

Fast forward 10 years.

I took The Artist’s Way course on overcoming creative blocks and harnessing creative talents with Julia Cameron at Kripalu Centre for Yoga and Health that would change my life.

As part of Artist’s Way process, I started a “Morning Pages” writing practice, which are three pages of the first thoughts upon waking that are uncensored, unfiltered and raw. In doing so, I released a lot of garbage but mixed in with this were golden nuggets with my deepest thoughts and desires.

One such desire was opening a restaurant.

My ego said that ship had passed, I was too old, had no experience and was not even a chef.

From the Morning Pages, day after day, the thought of opening up a restaurant grew bigger, and well the rest you’ll have to read about in my book The Accidental Chef, which I was compelled to write.

The book idea wouldn’t leave me alone because it was part of my deepest desires that would resurface when my ego was not fully awake and on guard to protect myself against “silly” thoughts as this.

Through writing, I became more honest with myself and true to who I am. I felt I was shedding clothing that was outdated and didn’t suit me anymore.

I started releasing my writing to a larger audience than myself and some good friends for the same reason I create food for others. To nourish and inspire.

The big difference is that when I serve up my words there is no customer I can see.

Writing is a dance I do alone without waiting for a partner.

This reminds me of my father George who always danced alone when ever he heard good music.

George didn’t care if others were watching. He would get others to dance with him, age not being of concern for him, and his at first reluctant partners would smile and laugh at him and with him. He loved making others laugh, laughing, and dancing, whether he had a partner or not.

I learned a lot from my died, more so after he died.

When I write or dance alone I am self-conscious at first, imagining everyone is looking at me, wondering what they think of me, and it’s awkward to move my body or to write.

I close my eyes, think of my dad and remember what he said to me, “just listen to the beat and dance to it!”

I push the “publish” button week after week to release my stories to the world, dance, and thank my dad.

♥

Here’s a recipe for blueberry pancakes, which my dad loved to eat and share with me. I made them in my style to be more healthy and inclusive so they are vegan and gluten-free and the tofu adds protein.

Add some music that you love while you’re making it and perhaps you’ll do a few dance steps as you feel the beat and dance to it. I like Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself”. https://www.vevo.com/watch/billy-idol/dancing-with-myself/USCA39000008

This is how we create a life that we savour with each dish and dance, whether we have a partner or not.

♥

Blueberry Pancakes (vegan, gluten-free)

• 4 ounces silken tofu
• 2 cups organic soy or almond milk
• 3 tablespoons maple syrup
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 cups all-purpose flour, gluten-free
• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 tablespoon aluminum-free baking powder
• 1 cup frozen blueberries
• 1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
• Extra oil for the skillet

Puree the tofu, milk, maple syrup, vanilla and oil in a blender until smooth. Pour into a large bowl. Sift the flour with the salt and baking powder. Mix into liquid mixture with a whisk, using light strokes just enough to combine and leaving it lumpy. Add in frozen blueberries and lemon zest to combine. Heat a skillet on medium-high heat. Put in oil and twirl around. Turn heat to medium and pour about one-quarter cup for each pancake. Cook on one side until the top bubbles. Flip over and cook the other side for half the time. Yields around twelve pancakes. Enjoy with maple syrup and music that makes you happy!

 

 

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Also published on Medium.