I think most people will agree that kitchen employees are no angels. In fact, the most common image is of a group of employees most closely resembling swashbuckling privateers and hot tempered, chemically dependent degenerates. But sometimes, s o m e t i m e s truth is stranger than stereotypes, and you do end up with varying degrees of the criminal element working for you, (not counting the dishwasher that had a pager when only Dr.s/lawyers and drug dealers had pagers...), including the most extreme.
One day I was sitting at home, drinking coffee and watching the morning news. The anchor came on talking about how a couple of brothers had been arrested for the attempted murder of their father after getting into a fight. For no reason, I immediately felt my stomach knot itself, and as I raised my eyes to the screen I was staring at my PM Chef de Cuisine. A seemingly good kid, and truly great cook destined for bigger and better things. His undoing was the belief that his father was indeed dead when he dumped his body, (only for his barely alive father to make his way to help which alerted the authorities of the attempt on his life).
Seemingly against all odds, the same kitchen employed another person accused of a capital crime. The outcome of this story is at the same time heartbreaking, and inspiring--and defines the whole notion of "manning up." Not to go too deep into details, the situation resolved itself with an innocent person taking the rap for the alleged perpetrator so that her children would not have to grow up without their mom.
It was tearful day on the loading dock when they committed to turning themselves in, and I think about them often, hoping that the situation worked out as best it could. I cannot fathom, or even pretend to know the kind of sacrifice made for the sake of the family
Chef Beers
Michael Beers waxes poetic on all matters of food and beverage
Monday, January 28, 2019
Monday, April 2, 2018
Just Don't Do It!!!
"Don't do it!"
Far too often this is the rote response from a colleague or hospitality-food & beverage professional/expert when approached by someone seeking advice:
"Do you have any suggestions for someone who is looking to get into the restaurant industry?"
"Don't. Do. It!"
These are the same people that will usually lament that there are no good applicants for vacant jobs, whinging about staff shortages and the lack of training for the staff that do eventually show up at the back door. There may be an easy solution to this problem: we should work hard to make people want to join the hospitality industry instead of scaring and steering them away.
The number of people whose first job is in the hospitality industry is over 30%, and it is consistently one of the industries that employs the most people in this country. So why is it that we have staff shortages? It seems like the jaded old-timers are focused solely on the negatives of the industry, and won't even allow new employees the time and space to figure out if they like the work, and the culture, on their own accord.
I know that it is hard. It is hard work. It is hard on a person both mentally and physically. It is hard on sobriety. It is hard on relationships with anyone outside of the industry, including spouses, children, friends...acquaintances.But these same challenges can pay huge dividends as well: it is an industry that opens the world up for you to travel in, the typical hours of restaurant work open your schedule for other creative endeavours and taking advantage of the "gig economy" during your off-hours. You will learn valuable skills, (cooking, interpersonal communication, problem solving, critical thinking, inventory control, purchasing, merchandising, marketing, promotions, time management), many of which you will use daily for the rest of your life, regardless of your final career path.
Chef Gary Hunter, Vice Principal for Hospitality and Adult Learning at London's Westminster Kingsway College laments the lack of new entrants into the field despite the popularity of TV cooking shows. As a professional educator, he has a simple three-part plan to attract new employees which includes the embracing of apprenticeship programs, and putting potential employees into paid/real-world-experience positions. Get them into restaurants, hotels, and clubs and let them see, first-hand, how rewarding--and challenging--a career can be.
And just because someone isn't a "hard body," or they don't have that slightly masochistic personality, or they have a different career in mind doesn't mean that we should close the door to entry before they've crossed the threshold. In fact, some of the best cooks I have ever employed were merely "passing through," and were working to get through college, or figuring out what they wanted to be when they grew up. Yes! This was frustrating at times, hopefully they will look back on their time with me and say that it was valuable in one way or another (beyond a pay check or lift pass). These employees are just as vital to the continued success of the industry, and we shouldn't pass them over. Hopefully, they will work for you and think, "hey! This is pretty cool" and end up spending more time than they had planned in hospitality, or even ultimately make it their career (which is exactly what happened to me!)
And I think we can all agree that there are some challenges to being a hospitality industry employee that are challenging; these shouldn't be exaggerated to hyperbole or sugar coated. And the benefits are myriad, and these too should be delivered in a realistic and measured way. This honesty and transparency will both attract and repel, we just need to be collectively smart enough to welcome those that are attracted into the fold.
Far too often this is the rote response from a colleague or hospitality-food & beverage professional/expert when approached by someone seeking advice:
"Do you have any suggestions for someone who is looking to get into the restaurant industry?"
"Don't. Do. It!"
These are the same people that will usually lament that there are no good applicants for vacant jobs, whinging about staff shortages and the lack of training for the staff that do eventually show up at the back door. There may be an easy solution to this problem: we should work hard to make people want to join the hospitality industry instead of scaring and steering them away.
The number of people whose first job is in the hospitality industry is over 30%, and it is consistently one of the industries that employs the most people in this country. So why is it that we have staff shortages? It seems like the jaded old-timers are focused solely on the negatives of the industry, and won't even allow new employees the time and space to figure out if they like the work, and the culture, on their own accord.
I know that it is hard. It is hard work. It is hard on a person both mentally and physically. It is hard on sobriety. It is hard on relationships with anyone outside of the industry, including spouses, children, friends...acquaintances.But these same challenges can pay huge dividends as well: it is an industry that opens the world up for you to travel in, the typical hours of restaurant work open your schedule for other creative endeavours and taking advantage of the "gig economy" during your off-hours. You will learn valuable skills, (cooking, interpersonal communication, problem solving, critical thinking, inventory control, purchasing, merchandising, marketing, promotions, time management), many of which you will use daily for the rest of your life, regardless of your final career path.
Chef Gary Hunter, Vice Principal for Hospitality and Adult Learning at London's Westminster Kingsway College laments the lack of new entrants into the field despite the popularity of TV cooking shows. As a professional educator, he has a simple three-part plan to attract new employees which includes the embracing of apprenticeship programs, and putting potential employees into paid/real-world-experience positions. Get them into restaurants, hotels, and clubs and let them see, first-hand, how rewarding--and challenging--a career can be.
And just because someone isn't a "hard body," or they don't have that slightly masochistic personality, or they have a different career in mind doesn't mean that we should close the door to entry before they've crossed the threshold. In fact, some of the best cooks I have ever employed were merely "passing through," and were working to get through college, or figuring out what they wanted to be when they grew up. Yes! This was frustrating at times, hopefully they will look back on their time with me and say that it was valuable in one way or another (beyond a pay check or lift pass). These employees are just as vital to the continued success of the industry, and we shouldn't pass them over. Hopefully, they will work for you and think, "hey! This is pretty cool" and end up spending more time than they had planned in hospitality, or even ultimately make it their career (which is exactly what happened to me!)
And I think we can all agree that there are some challenges to being a hospitality industry employee that are challenging; these shouldn't be exaggerated to hyperbole or sugar coated. And the benefits are myriad, and these too should be delivered in a realistic and measured way. This honesty and transparency will both attract and repel, we just need to be collectively smart enough to welcome those that are attracted into the fold.
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Yes, Chef! No, Chef! I don't know, Chef!
Moving from the Northeast to the Southeast was certainly a culture shock on many levels. One thing that struck me immediately, and has lingered, is the ability of two perfect strangers to strike up a conversation. This struck me, but did not shock me. This easy-conversation style was everywhere around me growing up in NY; so ubiquitous that my father, (a self proclaimed hermit), would strike up conversations with neighbors if they stopped by, or when he was at the local store.
Recently I have been more than a little jealous of this ability, and question whether or not I ever had this ability. When I spend time with childhood friends my storytelling ability is not up to snuff. Of course as I scrutinize my memories, I can recall many instances of stopping in people's driveways and chatting, spending hour upon hour on the phone, indulging people in mindless-directionless discussions...all willfully and gladly.
What the heck happened to me?!
Of course, this didn't take nearly as long to figure out: I started cooking for a living.
(Finding speaking on the phone absolutely detestable and loathsome is the subject of another post for someday in the future).
As a young cook, it was my ability to verbally spar with the chef that actually kept me employed. As I progressed up the ranks, expectations grew, and the tolerance of Beers "the kid who talks a lot" absolutely evaporated. Before too long, your conversations come to a halt.
Chefs want a SITREP, so that they can quickly evaluate the current situation, put out existing fires, and prevent future fires from flaring up. On the line/during service time-is-money and every second you use to tell me extraneous and extemporaneous information is a second that my vegetables are dying, the guest is waiting, the service staff is getting antsy...no bueno! To economize time and words, every question in a good number of kitchens gets answered in one of three ways:
"Yes/Oui, Chef!"
"No, Chef!"
"I don't know, Chef!"
Working in this compressed sense of time has certainly curtailed my verbosity. I have needled many a cook and fellow chef with the admonition, "I don't want a story, I just need an answer." For it seems that my tolerance of the wordy, has been diminished as well. I cannot blame this entirely on being a "chef." Like much of the highlight reel of eyebrow knitting "what was I thinking/that was the exact opposite of what I should have been doing," this gnaws away at me. Primarily because it eroded the part of my mind that generates/tolerates small talk. Parts that I consciously work at improving with every, 'hello."
Knowing now what I should have known then, I would have bailed on the the following philosophy when dealing with my team:
Be bright.
Be brief.
Be gone.
Recently I have been more than a little jealous of this ability, and question whether or not I ever had this ability. When I spend time with childhood friends my storytelling ability is not up to snuff. Of course as I scrutinize my memories, I can recall many instances of stopping in people's driveways and chatting, spending hour upon hour on the phone, indulging people in mindless-directionless discussions...all willfully and gladly.
What the heck happened to me?!
Of course, this didn't take nearly as long to figure out: I started cooking for a living.
(Finding speaking on the phone absolutely detestable and loathsome is the subject of another post for someday in the future).
As a young cook, it was my ability to verbally spar with the chef that actually kept me employed. As I progressed up the ranks, expectations grew, and the tolerance of Beers "the kid who talks a lot" absolutely evaporated. Before too long, your conversations come to a halt.
Chefs want a SITREP, so that they can quickly evaluate the current situation, put out existing fires, and prevent future fires from flaring up. On the line/during service time-is-money and every second you use to tell me extraneous and extemporaneous information is a second that my vegetables are dying, the guest is waiting, the service staff is getting antsy...no bueno! To economize time and words, every question in a good number of kitchens gets answered in one of three ways:
"Yes/Oui, Chef!"
"No, Chef!"
"I don't know, Chef!"
Working in this compressed sense of time has certainly curtailed my verbosity. I have needled many a cook and fellow chef with the admonition, "I don't want a story, I just need an answer." For it seems that my tolerance of the wordy, has been diminished as well. I cannot blame this entirely on being a "chef." Like much of the highlight reel of eyebrow knitting "what was I thinking/that was the exact opposite of what I should have been doing," this gnaws away at me. Primarily because it eroded the part of my mind that generates/tolerates small talk. Parts that I consciously work at improving with every, 'hello."
Knowing now what I should have known then, I would have bailed on the the following philosophy when dealing with my team:
Be bright.
Be brief.
Be gone.
Monday, February 5, 2018
Procrastination and Perfectionism and Creativity (or lack thereof)
I spend a LOT of time in my car, a 2011 Subaru with almost 290,000 miles. I do a LOT of thinking while driving. Much of what I think about is accompanied by the notion that "this is something I should write about."
The end result has been a LOT of thinking and NO writing: ZERO WRITING in almost a year, actually.
In the last couple of weeks, I have found myself referencing a famously quotable passage by Hunter S. Thompson regarding his use of writing to really, deeply-profoundly think about a subject.
That was my "eureka!" moment: I was thinking things through so thoroughly, doing mental rewrites to hone my cranial blogpost, that I was completing the process. The final rewrite was done.
Signed. Sealed. Delivered.
I was exhausting my material, setting it free from my thoughts. Not to be recalled, let alone written about at a later time and place when I was able to put pen to pad.
And then yesterday, I found out there is an actual psychological effect to explain this: The Zeigarnik Effect. In 1927 Bluma Zeigarnik conducted experiments about memory and the ability of people to remember incomplete tasks better than completed ones. She found that people were actually 90% more likely to remember the details of a task that was interrupted than one that was completed.
Adam Grant of the Wharton Business School has actually linked this forced procrastination, and procrastination in general to greater creativity. In fact he cites Da Vinci's 16-years to complete the Mona Lisa and the last minute edits to The Gettysburg Address and the "I Have a Dream" speech as proof positive of the benefits of procrastination.
(It is taking me forever to write this...)
Obviously there is a time and place for everything:
Defusing a bomb? Precrastination will serve you well. Trying to write the next Star Wars prequel for Jar-Jar Binks? Procrastination won't help with that, but procrastination may help you compose your first/next single, or land you an article in the New Yorker, or finish your next script for your television show.
"You call it procrastinating. I call it thinking."
- Aaron Sorkin
The end result has been a LOT of thinking and NO writing: ZERO WRITING in almost a year, actually.
In the last couple of weeks, I have found myself referencing a famously quotable passage by Hunter S. Thompson regarding his use of writing to really, deeply-profoundly think about a subject.
That was my "eureka!" moment: I was thinking things through so thoroughly, doing mental rewrites to hone my cranial blogpost, that I was completing the process. The final rewrite was done.
Signed. Sealed. Delivered.
I was exhausting my material, setting it free from my thoughts. Not to be recalled, let alone written about at a later time and place when I was able to put pen to pad.
And then yesterday, I found out there is an actual psychological effect to explain this: The Zeigarnik Effect. In 1927 Bluma Zeigarnik conducted experiments about memory and the ability of people to remember incomplete tasks better than completed ones. She found that people were actually 90% more likely to remember the details of a task that was interrupted than one that was completed.
Adam Grant of the Wharton Business School has actually linked this forced procrastination, and procrastination in general to greater creativity. In fact he cites Da Vinci's 16-years to complete the Mona Lisa and the last minute edits to The Gettysburg Address and the "I Have a Dream" speech as proof positive of the benefits of procrastination.
(It is taking me forever to write this...)
Obviously there is a time and place for everything:
Defusing a bomb? Precrastination will serve you well. Trying to write the next Star Wars prequel for Jar-Jar Binks? Procrastination won't help with that, but procrastination may help you compose your first/next single, or land you an article in the New Yorker, or finish your next script for your television show.
"You call it procrastinating. I call it thinking."
- Aaron Sorkin
Monday, March 20, 2017
Putting the work in
It's springtime, and a chef's fancy turns to mentoring; specifically through judging state-level/high school ProStart culinary competitions. In the course of seeing 100's of young cooks cooking I was reminded of the beginnings of my career and my apprenticeship. I am also reminded of my overblown sense of self-worth which cost me the opportunity to work for a highly regarded, award winning chef, and how I must have looked to people who interviewed me for a job.
After completing my apprenticeship I moved to Arizona and embarked upon my first job search in five years. It took a while to gain traction, but I remember getting some okay responses, finally landing a position with a nationally flagged hotel chain; which I subsequently quit because the position was "below me and not what I want to do with my career," (I was subsequently rehired with a promotion and a raise).
As I worked in the hotel's banquet kitchen I convinced myself that I should be a sous chef/executive chef somewhere else, and within six months I filled every day off I had looking for a new job. Not surprisingly, (ok, in actuality--and looking back, I had NO reason to expect call backs, let alone interview for anything more than a line cook position), I was getting called in to several restaurants to interview for sous chef positions.
My ego was enormous!
I would tell potential employers during my first interview that I would not do huge, lengthy prep tasks. I would refuse to work certain days. Every answer in an interview I gave then, are the exact same answers that would stop a potential cook's interview to work for me, now, before it started! Not surprisingly...I remained at the hotel as a banquet cook; no one was hiring me to be their sous chef.
"Their loss..."
Then one day I got a phone call for an interview for another sous chef position. But this was not an average sous chef position. This was for the OG chef in town. One of the early practitioners of Southwestern Cuisine. A contemporary of Fearing and Miller. A James Beard Award winner. An early champion of exploring and resuscitating the lost indigenous foodways of his surrounds.
JACKPOT!
I headed off to the interview. I arrived and was welcomed into the restaurant by the chef de cuisine, and met The Chef. I answered some preliminary questions, and was dispatched to do a bench test in what could be best described as a garage off of the chef's office kitted out with plastic folding tables to prep on.
I gladly and cheerfully embarked on the tasks set before me. When I was done, Chef came out to talk to me. He thanked me for coming in and that he enjoyed meeting me...but I wasn't going to get the sous chef job. He did offer me a job as a line cook, a position which he was not hiring for previously, and was creating solely to bring me onto his team...which I turned down out of hand.
I'm a SOUS CHEF, damnit!
It would be another two-years before I would be offered, and accept my first sous chef position. Two-years of hard work, learning, college classes, staging, volunteering for opportunities to work with other chefs for free, reading every cookbook and culinary magazine I could get my hands on...
Seven-years after my interview with The Chef, I found myself in his dining room, in his newly-custom built restaurant; I was a chef myself by this time. He came to the table; sat with us and discussed the menu. Asked my date and I what our wine preference was and recommended, (and comped), a bottle of his favorite wine. He was cordial far beyond standard professional courtesy.
He sent a message without saying a word.
Now, as I mentor cooks and chefs I can't help but relate my experiences as I help them navigate their own career paths. There are no shortcuts, and they need to live a purposeful life; knowing that every move they make today needs to be moving them closer to their ultimate goal. Be humble and never turn down an opportunity to learn. When it's your time, and it will come, you will know; be patient but be continually working towards where you want to be.
Put the work in.
After completing my apprenticeship I moved to Arizona and embarked upon my first job search in five years. It took a while to gain traction, but I remember getting some okay responses, finally landing a position with a nationally flagged hotel chain; which I subsequently quit because the position was "below me and not what I want to do with my career," (I was subsequently rehired with a promotion and a raise).
As I worked in the hotel's banquet kitchen I convinced myself that I should be a sous chef/executive chef somewhere else, and within six months I filled every day off I had looking for a new job. Not surprisingly, (ok, in actuality--and looking back, I had NO reason to expect call backs, let alone interview for anything more than a line cook position), I was getting called in to several restaurants to interview for sous chef positions.
My ego was enormous!
I would tell potential employers during my first interview that I would not do huge, lengthy prep tasks. I would refuse to work certain days. Every answer in an interview I gave then, are the exact same answers that would stop a potential cook's interview to work for me, now, before it started! Not surprisingly...I remained at the hotel as a banquet cook; no one was hiring me to be their sous chef.
"Their loss..."
Then one day I got a phone call for an interview for another sous chef position. But this was not an average sous chef position. This was for the OG chef in town. One of the early practitioners of Southwestern Cuisine. A contemporary of Fearing and Miller. A James Beard Award winner. An early champion of exploring and resuscitating the lost indigenous foodways of his surrounds.
JACKPOT!
I headed off to the interview. I arrived and was welcomed into the restaurant by the chef de cuisine, and met The Chef. I answered some preliminary questions, and was dispatched to do a bench test in what could be best described as a garage off of the chef's office kitted out with plastic folding tables to prep on.
I gladly and cheerfully embarked on the tasks set before me. When I was done, Chef came out to talk to me. He thanked me for coming in and that he enjoyed meeting me...but I wasn't going to get the sous chef job. He did offer me a job as a line cook, a position which he was not hiring for previously, and was creating solely to bring me onto his team...which I turned down out of hand.
I'm a SOUS CHEF, damnit!
It would be another two-years before I would be offered, and accept my first sous chef position. Two-years of hard work, learning, college classes, staging, volunteering for opportunities to work with other chefs for free, reading every cookbook and culinary magazine I could get my hands on...
Seven-years after my interview with The Chef, I found myself in his dining room, in his newly-custom built restaurant; I was a chef myself by this time. He came to the table; sat with us and discussed the menu. Asked my date and I what our wine preference was and recommended, (and comped), a bottle of his favorite wine. He was cordial far beyond standard professional courtesy.
He sent a message without saying a word.
Now, as I mentor cooks and chefs I can't help but relate my experiences as I help them navigate their own career paths. There are no shortcuts, and they need to live a purposeful life; knowing that every move they make today needs to be moving them closer to their ultimate goal. Be humble and never turn down an opportunity to learn. When it's your time, and it will come, you will know; be patient but be continually working towards where you want to be.
Put the work in.
Monday, November 7, 2016
To age, or not to age? An eggnog drinker's dilemma...
Love it?
Hate it?
There is really no middle ground when it comes the eggnog. Regardless of your opinions about nog, I think we can all agree that there is really not a single libation so associated with the Christmas season. So much so, that in addition to the "traditional versions" and sugar-free/soy/rice/dairy-free versions, eggnog is making its way into everything: e.g., eggnog coffee creamers, eggnog milkshakes, eggnog ice cream.
I have always loved eggnog, but my experience as a child was limited to the cloyingly thick-over sweetened-"pretty far from eggnog" stuff that came in a one-quart paper carton. My first real attempt at making eggnog was for a Christmas beverage feature in a steakhouse near Boston...which just happened to make a great vehicle for the kitchen staff to get sloshed "unnoticed." That version started out paper-carton-thick as well, but once the brown liquors were added, we had achieved a quite palatable viscosity.
Of course, in the current climate I wouldn't be able to "get away" with serving raw eggs, and the components would need to be replaced with pasteurized versions of their former selves. But if you believe in the preventative properties of brandy, bourbon, rye, and rhum here are a couple of different options for you: the first is my version, the second is an aged eggnog recipe, based on traditional recipes that date from colonial America, courtesy of Michael Ruhlman:
Beers' Eggnog
Hate it?
There is really no middle ground when it comes the eggnog. Regardless of your opinions about nog, I think we can all agree that there is really not a single libation so associated with the Christmas season. So much so, that in addition to the "traditional versions" and sugar-free/soy/rice/dairy-free versions, eggnog is making its way into everything: e.g., eggnog coffee creamers, eggnog milkshakes, eggnog ice cream.
I have always loved eggnog, but my experience as a child was limited to the cloyingly thick-over sweetened-"pretty far from eggnog" stuff that came in a one-quart paper carton. My first real attempt at making eggnog was for a Christmas beverage feature in a steakhouse near Boston...which just happened to make a great vehicle for the kitchen staff to get sloshed "unnoticed." That version started out paper-carton-thick as well, but once the brown liquors were added, we had achieved a quite palatable viscosity.
Of course, in the current climate I wouldn't be able to "get away" with serving raw eggs, and the components would need to be replaced with pasteurized versions of their former selves. But if you believe in the preventative properties of brandy, bourbon, rye, and rhum here are a couple of different options for you: the first is my version, the second is an aged eggnog recipe, based on traditional recipes that date from colonial America, courtesy of Michael Ruhlman:
Beers' Eggnog
- 16 eggs, separated
- 2 cups granulated sugar
- 4 cups whole milk
- 1 qt heavy cream
- 1 ea. vanilla bean, split
- .750 liter bourbon
- 1 cup Cognac or brandy
- .750 liter dark rum
- pinch of kosher salt
- as needed freshly grated nutmeg
The Eggnog
- Combine the yolks and 1-cup of the sugar in a large bowl and whisk until well blended, pale yellow, and ribbony; heat milk and the vanilla bean over medium-high heat until steaming; temper egg yolks with hot milk and return to pan. Cook over medium-low heat while constantly stirring until mixture thickens and coats the back of a wooden spoon; strain through a fine mesh strainer into a container set into an ice bath and chill. Reserve cold. (Can be made up to 3 days ahead of time)
- Place the egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whip attachment,whip at medium speed until soft peaks form; reduce speed and, with mixer still running, slowly stream in remaining sugar and continue beating until glossy-medium peaks form. Reserve cold. (Can be made up to 1 day ahead of time)
- Place the heavy cream in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whip attachment and whip to soft-medium peaks; reserve cold. (Can be made up to 1 day ahead of time; you may need to re-whip to soft-medium peaks before using)
- To serve: in a bowl large enough to accommodate the ingredients add the cooked egg yolks and fold in the whipped cream, and the whipped egg whites. Add the bourbon, rum, cognac, and salt; stir to combine and transfer to a punch bowl.
- Serve topped with freshly grated nutmeg
Aged Eggnog
- 12 yolks (save whites for angel food cake!)
- 2 cups granulated sugar
- 1 liter bourbon
- 4 cups whole milk
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 3/4 cup Cognac or brandy
- 1/2 cup Myers’s dark rum
- pinch of kosher salt
The Eggnog
- Combine the yolks and sugar in a large bowl and whisk until well blended and creamy.
- Add the remaining ingredients and stir to combine.
- Transfer the mixture to a 1-gallon glass jar and tightly seal the lid. (Alternatively, you can bottle it.) Place in the refrigerator for at least 3 weeks and up to 3 years (or till it’s as you like it!).
- Serve topped with sweet meringue and nutmeg if you wish.
Friday, November 4, 2016
Shallow thoughts
Growing up in a competitive atmosphere can mess up your perspective on success and life; it started with sports for me and transitioned to academics...then music, and finally culinary arts. I do have some competitive natured/professional issues that I currently struggle with--albeit far less every day...I'm getting "better."
I am not the quickest dude when it comes to self-awareness.
Number one on that list, and some great advice I would give to anyone silly enough to ask is this: success of a colleague or competitor does not affect YOUR success! This has taken me years to realize and to get over, even though I do have to consciously remind myself from time to time--more or less a daily basis. It is very easy to focus on someone else's success when you feel as if you should be just as, if not more successful; this lead to years of not speaking to other athletes on the field, musicians at clubs, or other chefs at community events.
The ego is a powerful, and more often than not stupid, thing to embrace.
Sooner or later I came to realize that my path, and that of others outside of my circle were separate. And although these trajectories were distinct, who knew what I was going through or was up against better than my peers? Suddenly you realize that you've wasted a lot of time and energy trying to problem solve in a vacuum!
I am not the quickest dude when it comes to self-awareness.
Number one on that list, and some great advice I would give to anyone silly enough to ask is this: success of a colleague or competitor does not affect YOUR success! This has taken me years to realize and to get over, even though I do have to consciously remind myself from time to time--more or less a daily basis. It is very easy to focus on someone else's success when you feel as if you should be just as, if not more successful; this lead to years of not speaking to other athletes on the field, musicians at clubs, or other chefs at community events.
The ego is a powerful, and more often than not stupid, thing to embrace.
Sooner or later I came to realize that my path, and that of others outside of my circle were separate. And although these trajectories were distinct, who knew what I was going through or was up against better than my peers? Suddenly you realize that you've wasted a lot of time and energy trying to problem solve in a vacuum!
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