Having the Dream and its Consequences

When I was in seventh grade I knew that I was going to be a lawyer when I grew up.

When I was a freshmen in high school and asked a lawyer for his advice regarding a young man wanting to be a lawyer he told me to "get an MBA". Point taken.

Sophomore year, I knew I was going to have a career in politics

This is not a blog about that stuff though, it wasn't until senior year that food seemed to be relevant at all. However, a poly sci degree seemed much more respectable than a culinary arts degree. Not that I even considered culinary school at that time.

The next few years were pretty rocky and I was at a point where I needed to figure out once again what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Thanks to the efforts of Anthony Bourdain (who I am sure did it just for me) I arrived at the answer. Culinary School for the win!

It's awesome, I highly recommend it. The education you receive is so different than any other. You learn how to appreciate things. I suppose art school is similar, but the physical nature of your education allows to learn new things about yourself. For instance, my palate. A year ago, I would have told you that I hate all seafood. I don't and can't say that anymore. I love mussels, mako shark, and swordfish. I like white fish, orange roughy, and shrimp. I had arctic shad (variety of trout) with a shrimp and dover sole (the only true flounder) mousseline (a sauce or cream with egg whites and in this case ground fish) at school a little while back that was fabulous.

I used to hate pork.

I also had no idea that I liked such things as veal, pheasant, turnips, or jicama.

Now, I'm learning that there is a meaning, a purpose for every flavor. 

It's great, I highly recommend it.

Another neat consequence to all this is that my parents have become more interested in food as well. Prior to my interest in culinary school my folks had a big white binder of recipes. They almost never deviated from this binder, rarely looked for new things, and were apprehensive to do try anything new. Now there is that big white binder, but on the counter by the fridge is a big purple folder with "Recipes to Try" scrawled on a sticky note. In it are things like chipotle short ribs with green chili sauce, goat cheese mashed potatoes, marinated london broil. Sophisticated dishes, sometimes exotic (to the confines of my parents' diets) - all around good food.

I like that.

An aside, while I'm talking about my parents and food. It is really upsetting to me that the only time my father takes his diet seriously is after he has hurt himself or there is money on the line. The only time I have ever seen him diet steadily for more than a month is when he has hurt his back and fears surgery (which he has had) or when he's participating in a company bet to see who can make weight. 

I don't like that.

But anyway, food is great. Great food is divine.

I still have about two years of school, after that I want to take the ACF (American Culinary Federation - acf.org - they're kind of a big deal)  certification ASAP. I want to move back home to Chicago and work there, maybe open my own place after some years. But you know, and you can call me silly if you'd like, my ultimate dream is to move to France or Spain (the new France) and open restaurant there. I don't care if I never get a michelin star there, though it would certainly be nice. Just as long as I'm successful.

I'm going to try to find the first "original" recipe I ever made for my parents. Original in the sense that I printed it off the internet and modified it slightly and my parents had never had it before.