I am Not A Chef!

In today's Instagram worshipped world, we think that anyone who can cook a burger, or create a connection between a bagel and a fantasy animal is a chef.

That some blogger mom who talks about gluten free pizza or how to use cauliflower to replace every carb ever created is on the same level of culinary contribution as Paul Bocous, or the great Carla Hall. (Bows head in reverence).

Even after graduating from the college that celebrated for their calibre of alumni and intense focus on creating culinary leaders, I didn’t become a chef.

On our graduation day several family members and friends I was graduating with made the assumption that we could now all be called chefs — as though we all graduated from med school and now that we had that precious degree, we were bestowed that title.

But does that really make us chefs?

No. No, it did not.

Yes — we did go through a crash course of kitchen culture, the dos and don’ts.

We were taught leadership skills on how to run a kitchen, and learned how to both give and receive respect from those who are above and below us.

But this does not make us a chefs.

Not yet.

The kitchen is known for its rigid brigade and military like structure that keeps it all in balance, so that your tilapia, your friend’s steak, and your friend’s vegan girlfriend from California's portobello mushroom “burger” all get to the table at the same time.

And let's face it — without that strict structure, Brenda would be finished with her “burger” long before your friend’s dead cow ever reached the table.

But this system can take its toll on those who work within it.

It's hot, loud, and fast.

It takes guts to survive in this environment, but it takes something even more to be able to thrive in such an environment.

Almost every service that a kitchen goes through is like a battle in a nameless war against the clock, against other restaurants, against expectations, and the bar our society has placed on dining.

Just look at the #FoodPorn tag and imagine being just one of those pictures trying to grab you in and make you double tap that pic.

In the military, you do not leave basic training and instantly become a general.

In the restaurant world the same rule applies.

It takes years of work, dedication, and a fierce drive for perfection and leadership to gain such a rank of honor.

But in our modern world we tend to take this word as a blanket term to describe anyone who has anything to do with food.

Add on how food has now become a staple of pop culture through The Food Network, Top Chef, the insults of Gordon Ramsay, Ina Garten memes, and Tina, the girl from high school who posts pics of her lunch with a quote from Maya Angelou.

‘Cause the connection between a salad and Maya Angelou is uncanny.

Names and titles have power.

But when they are used for someone who hasn't earned it, it becomes almost an insult to those who have worked for it.

Just because you watch Greys Anatomy doesn't make you a doctor, and knowing the score to West Side Story won't automatically grant you the role of Anita.

One of the first hard lessons that we were taught in culinary school happened on a day in the bakeshop where everyone was scrambling to finish their products for the day.

All we needed was the guy from Spongebob who always yells, “My leg!” and we would’ve been all set.

Our chef, not saying a word, but still capturing the attention of 20 frantic students to stop in their tracks and watch as she writes something on the board.

She wrote:

“Chef: (noun): the Chief cook in a restaurant or other food establishment.”

We all began to write it down instead of reading it. When she finished writing she called the room to order like she was fucking Dumbledore.

(literally what happened)

....And we all stopped to hear another fit of what we did or were doing wrong.

She said, “The word chef comes from the word chief, which means leader, and right now none of you are at that stage. You need to all start thinking as leaders. You are all here to become chefs. Read over your recipies, follow your timelines, and think.”

If you need help visiualizing what this felt like it was kind of like this:

From then on out we were thinking as a chef should think, planning as a chef should plan, and acting as a true leader should act.

And yet we are still not chefs.

Is a general still a general without his army?

Is a shepherd still called a shepherd without a flock to guide?

Then how can we bestow this high title and honor of chief of the kitchen upon someone who has no kitchen to lead?

We can't.

There is, however, another word that we can use to describe these people who are obsessed with food, have displayed their talents with a knife or whisk, and want to show us this crazy and exciting world.

I am one of them.

And for the record, I’m still not a chef.

I’m a culinarian!