The past few weeks have passed by so quickly, what with Christmas and visiting family and literally hundreds of essays to read, that I've hardly had any time to process the end of the year. Thankfully, a few much-needed conversations with friends (who are good listeners and talkers) have given me space to reflect on my strange, often frustrating, unexpectedly and unconventionally wonderful 2015. So here, before I forget, is a probably incomplete summary of what I've learned:
pages
hometown dreams: 5 reasons why I'm leaving new york city
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(a little song I wrote about coming and going)
After 2 years, I'm moving back home to California in two(!) weeks and would be remiss if I didn't write a lengthy, introspective post explaining why:
(I'm also secretly hoping it'll save me from exhausting conversations, but who am I kidding, no one reads this anyway so I'm really doing this for my own catharsis--what's new?)
the other side
It seems to be a recurring theme in my life that, during seasons of waiting, things move very slowly for quite some time before moving all at once.
You might remember the doubt that kickstarted this blog two years ago, when cooking was all I could think about and yet being able to attend culinary school was still a pipe dream. It took about a full year after my parents heard the emotionally charged confession of my dreams - a year spent researching and visiting schools in secret, feeling behind peers who were landing their first full-time jobs, looking for scholarships, waiting for the right start date, waiting for my parents to come around, wondering if it would ever happen - until my dad suggested one day that we drive up to the ICC in San Jose for an open house. What happened after that is still a whirlwind in my memory; no more than two weeks later, I was staring back at my first chef instructor in New York.
The past eleven weeks have been riddled with a more costly kind of doubt- I have completed culinary school, my parents are supporting me 100% and I am in a culinary career. Despite the obstacles that currently stand in the way of that career, I know in my heart that leaving it now would only become a lifetime regret. And yet, the last few months were filled with nights when one "what if" would lead to another, luring me down a quickly darkening, hypothetical road of failure.
And it was only because I had gone down that road so many times, only because its every twist and turn had become so deeply etched into my mind, that one day I just needed to get out of my head.
getting started
It's been all of nine crazy, pivotal months since I last posted, but in the end it was this little line, nestled quietly on a page in Irene Chalmer's Food Jobs, that prompted me to put pen to paper. Literally, a real, plastic, complimentary Rosetta Radiology pen and the back of a folded resume.
"Ultimately, the only way to get started is to get started."
Something about that line, which in context was referring to the pursuit of any food writing job, reminded me about Out of Thyme and how adept I'd gotten at avoiding it: You know, I'd really love to post more, but I just don't think I should put up subpar pictures. My computer is nearing its sixth birthday and cries out in earnest protest when I try to plug in my DSLR or open Lightroom. And I wouldn't want to post recipes without pictures. And I wouldn't want to write posts without recipes. So why bother if it can't be perfect? But no more. I'm finally beginning to accept that perfection can't ever be achieved, and anyway I won't get any closer by not trying. So damn it all, my outdated laptop, lack of free wifi in my current location and any other mild inconvenience that would have previously allowed for my cowardly radio silence. Pen to paper it is.
"Ultimately, the only way to get started is to get started."
Something about that line, which in context was referring to the pursuit of any food writing job, reminded me about Out of Thyme and how adept I'd gotten at avoiding it: You know, I'd really love to post more, but I just don't think I should put up subpar pictures. My computer is nearing its sixth birthday and cries out in earnest protest when I try to plug in my DSLR or open Lightroom. And I wouldn't want to post recipes without pictures. And I wouldn't want to write posts without recipes. So why bother if it can't be perfect? But no more. I'm finally beginning to accept that perfection can't ever be achieved, and anyway I won't get any closer by not trying. So damn it all, my outdated laptop, lack of free wifi in my current location and any other mild inconvenience that would have previously allowed for my cowardly radio silence. Pen to paper it is.
quick, quick update
[my apologies for the poor pictures ahead]
Okay. Where were we...
I'm actually laughing right now. It's been so long, I think I may have forgotten how to write altogether. I really mean it this time. So to start, here's a quick rundown of everything that's happened in the last (cringe) three months, in list form:
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Okay. Where were we...
I'm actually laughing right now. It's been so long, I think I may have forgotten how to write altogether. I really mean it this time. So to start, here's a quick rundown of everything that's happened in the last (cringe) three months, in list form:
smitten in the kitchen
So I stumble into the room next to the admissions office, a little unsure of my every move, including my promptness even though it's 8:20 a.m. and we were told to come at 8:30. I'm relieved to see another girl in the room with the same duffle bag as I have, with clear blue-green eyes and a smile that's friendly enough to invite conversation. Daniela, she introduces herself, just moved here from South Africa a week ago. We talk about how we found our last-minute living situations (me in Union Square and her in Jersey) and how crazy it is that we're finally here, at this moment, about to do what we'll do. When I mention how thirsty I am, she figures there will be water in the classroom by gesturing towards the window of the empty kitchen in front of us. That's when Daniela chuckles and says it best:
"Isn't that funny? A kitchen is a classroom - we're chefs now."
to bigger and better things
Man oh man...where to begin?
As adept as I've become at excusing myself, I think even you'll agree that I've had more reason than ever to not give you an update this week.
Since March 5, it's been a whirlwind of events, decisions, announcements and changes on this end of the screen. Here's the SparkNotes version of what went down:
As adept as I've become at excusing myself, I think even you'll agree that I've had more reason than ever to not give you an update this week.
Since March 5, it's been a whirlwind of events, decisions, announcements and changes on this end of the screen. Here's the SparkNotes version of what went down:
heyyy brother
Apparently I enjoy breaking promises AND records, because I've now managed to go an entire two weeks without a single post. And, seeing as there are no pictures or titles of food to be seen, I'm sure you can already tell I'm not about to reveal some amazing recipe that makes up for lost time. I'm the worst, right?
If you're wondering whether or not I've been cooking all this time, or just laying around thinking about posting but never actually doing it, well, it's a little of both. But mostly the first. (Is it just me, or do I find the most inefficient way to say things?) For one, I cook for a job - I'm back at work in the kitchen of my old workplace/favorite restaurant. And yes, it is convenient when those things overlap. Or dangerous, depending on the way you look at daily mango tart consumption. Anyway, I moved back down to San Diego for the job two weeks ago in order to gain more work experience for my culinary school application. This is why, as mentioned in the previous post, I am away from my (slightly) better lit kitchen, making for (even) worse pictures, which is (only) one of the reasons you haven't seen more updates from me.
The other is that I never stop cooking. (What?) Let me explain. As tired and soiled as I may be after a day's work, the first thing I think about on the drive home is what I'm going to make for dinner, what ingredients I need to buy, which market would be the best to go to for them (because there is seriously no single market out there that is the cheapest for everything, and it drives me nuts), and whether or not to take a left or a right after the exit. Then, God willing I find a parking spot, I rush home, make a quick bathroom run, drop my groceries on the kitchen tile, and get cooking. Sometimes I don't even make it in my room (err, living room corner) until past 10pm. I am literally on my feet all day cooking and eating and planning and cooking and eating - and I love it, but quite often the last thing I want to do when all is said and done is spend another hour or two telling you I did just that. Besides, things happen - like the camera battery being dead from neglect and the charger being right there, but oh, we're hungry, and the food's getting cold, and the wine cocktail is getting warm, and do we have to do it right this second? Horrible things like that.
If you're wondering whether or not I've been cooking all this time, or just laying around thinking about posting but never actually doing it, well, it's a little of both. But mostly the first. (Is it just me, or do I find the most inefficient way to say things?) For one, I cook for a job - I'm back at work in the kitchen of my old workplace/favorite restaurant. And yes, it is convenient when those things overlap. Or dangerous, depending on the way you look at daily mango tart consumption. Anyway, I moved back down to San Diego for the job two weeks ago in order to gain more work experience for my culinary school application. This is why, as mentioned in the previous post, I am away from my (slightly) better lit kitchen, making for (even) worse pictures, which is (only) one of the reasons you haven't seen more updates from me.
The other is that I never stop cooking. (What?) Let me explain. As tired and soiled as I may be after a day's work, the first thing I think about on the drive home is what I'm going to make for dinner, what ingredients I need to buy, which market would be the best to go to for them (because there is seriously no single market out there that is the cheapest for everything, and it drives me nuts), and whether or not to take a left or a right after the exit. Then, God willing I find a parking spot, I rush home, make a quick bathroom run, drop my groceries on the kitchen tile, and get cooking. Sometimes I don't even make it in my room (err, living room corner) until past 10pm. I am literally on my feet all day cooking and eating and planning and cooking and eating - and I love it, but quite often the last thing I want to do when all is said and done is spend another hour or two telling you I did just that. Besides, things happen - like the camera battery being dead from neglect and the charger being right there, but oh, we're hungry, and the food's getting cold, and the wine cocktail is getting warm, and do we have to do it right this second? Horrible things like that.
| because my friends who are better documenters than I am - (photos courtesy of AP, JMC, Sarah x2) |
I want Mindy Kaling to be my best friend
No, that's not a name for a recipe (although it should be - I imagine it would utilize fruit snacks, pizza bagel bites, and doughnuts all at the same time); it's what I thought during my flights to New York as I finally indulged in her book that I purchased last year. What was that? Oh, I'm in New York! I'm here for a week to check out a couple of (my dream) culinary schools, even though under the present circumstances I'll need to save up for a lifetime before enrolling in any of them. I just thought it was worth a shot - who knows, maybe I can go into the admissions office and they'll say, "Wow! A Californian flew all the way here just to see our school even though she can't afford it? What a dedicated student! What a potential star! What a passionate youth! We should give her a full ride so she can attend our classes this fall! Also, her food blog is extremely promising!"
No? You can't see that happening? You're probably right; a ticket here costs less than $400 and tuition costs, well, more than 10 times that. But you never know.
I'm staying at my bestie's place, a small, rite-of-passage type of apartment on the upper east side, a 5 minute walk from Central Park (I know). She's the kind of person who has a hallway too narrow for the average American, but collects compost in the freezer and plants her own herbs on the windowsills ("I'm not out of thyme!"). Oh yeah, and she makes up her own jokes, too. Her older sister, who somehow shares this closet with her, is a die-hard foodie and went out of her way to pull up several restaurant menus for me to look over for the weekend. Needless to say, they're both way cooler than I am.
I won't be able to update until I get back, at least not with recipes or anything. But fret not, because there are a couple things I can't wait to make once back in California!
No? You can't see that happening? You're probably right; a ticket here costs less than $400 and tuition costs, well, more than 10 times that. But you never know.
I'm staying at my bestie's place, a small, rite-of-passage type of apartment on the upper east side, a 5 minute walk from Central Park (I know). She's the kind of person who has a hallway too narrow for the average American, but collects compost in the freezer and plants her own herbs on the windowsills ("I'm not out of thyme!"). Oh yeah, and she makes up her own jokes, too. Her older sister, who somehow shares this closet with her, is a die-hard foodie and went out of her way to pull up several restaurant menus for me to look over for the weekend. Needless to say, they're both way cooler than I am.
I won't be able to update until I get back, at least not with recipes or anything. But fret not, because there are a couple things I can't wait to make once back in California!
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