The inspiring chef

I know I've dubbed this blog The Aspiring Chef, but I’m not sure it’s apropos. After all, I went into this field with the very real possibility that it would be a short-term diversion from the world of writing.

There is a part of me that would love to be a chef. The power to create my own menu is alluring, and I’d love not to be the recipient of screaming (frankly, I don’t think I’d like to be the screamer either). Wifey has talked about opening up our own place eventually, but the financial risk involved keeps me from embracing that possibility wholeheartedly. After all, three out of four restaurants fail in the first couple years. Or so I was told in culinary school.

There are certainly other downsides to being a chef. For one thing, there is a mountain of responsibilities that have nothing to do with cooking, including worrying about crooked purveyors trying to sell you crappy produce/meat/fish; the constant number-crunching of food costs; flaky employees who don’t show up for work; rent; garbage disposal; power problems; etc.

Indeed, for many chefs, it seems, expediting—the act of organizing the soldiers during the rush of service and ensuring dishes go out on time and in an adequate fashion—is the primary responsibility. Creating new dishes is also a duty, but actual cooking? Fugghedaboutit.

I think what I really want to aspire to is to know all I possibly can about food. How to cook it, how to properly eat it and savor the flavors, where it comes from, why people like or dislike it. And most importantly, how to fix it.

For me, the most impressive thing about the more practiced cooks on my station is their ability to discern a problem and then within seconds know how to repair it. It’s not often that a good cook will throw out something and start over, especially in this economic climate.

If a vinaigrette looks too shiny, it probably has too much fat in it, so add a little stabilizer like xanthan gum and emulsify the hell out of it with an immersion blender. If that Meyer lemon puree is too sweet and thin (because yours truly added too much simple syrup), quickly chop up some oranges and lemon segments and add it to the puree. Fix it.

Mostly the thing to which I aspire is to avoid that look of panic or fear when somebody I want to impress looks at a dish I created and quizzes me about it. I want to be able to discuss the dish and all its components with complete confidence. I aspire to be as inspiring as those other cooks with whom I work.

It will be a while until I get to that point. My learning abilities seem tied inevitably to screwing up; I need to ruin something early on before I’m able to perfect it later. The good thing is that where I work I have lots of opportunities to work with new dishes I never would conceive on my own, which is helping me push my own boundaries and reduce my fear factor.