Wednesday, May 5, 2010

I have an alter ego

I have a secret. Being not that great at keeping them, I have started to let it slip... I miss being in a kitchen. My quasi-professional stint was short lived extremely brief, but as of late I am missing working with my hands. (Typing does not count.)

Kitchen work is something you only can envy when you are not in one, when you don't need to be standing for 10+ hours with out a break, when you don't have to think of quick, on-the-fly ingredient substitutes or dealing with angry customers who deem yelling as the means of getting their way. Kitchens are scary, dangerous, often ugly, sweltering spaces that are never large enough. I can miss it all because I have the liberty to daydream, something not afforded to those whose minds and bodies are in more dangerous situations than the occasional worry about remembering to bend at the knees when lifting a box of copier paper.

I want to make something that feeds people. They are not always going to be happy, but the end result is tangible, even if fleeting. I miss the smells, the calloused hands, the sculpted arms that know the weight of 50lbs of sugar not 8lbs. dumbbells.

I know I am romanticizing this.
I am thinking I might stag a few places to get this out of my system and allow reality back in.


  1. Follow your bliss (if only temporarily)! The world can only be a better place with more celiacs in the kitchen.

  2. Oh, I know this feeling all too well. My first jobs were all in kitchens and behind counters at small restaurants, and I loved every second. It wasn't until later that I took a round through fast food (blech).

    Now my cooking is done for family, but there's something of a rush when I'm deep in the throes of cooking and find that I need to change up what I'd planned to cook because of an ingredient shortage, or what I'd initially planned wasn't exactly going to work (especially now that I'm learning how to adapt old recipes to GF cooking). Then when something unexpected comes out well, and to have my kids try to will dinner along faster - or to have friends ask for the (GF) recipe because it tastes so good, or for my daughter to tell me that she started drooling outside because she could smell what was being made from outside.

    That's when I contemplate changing careers...and then my boyfriend reminds me of the realities *chuckle*

    Thank you for sharing :D