How I got Here

There are several ways to make a living in America, often people do not know what it is they want to do to make a buck. I was no different; however I fell into something that was not only a livelihood, but also an opportunity to travel around. I accidently learned a skill and trade beginning at the young age of thirteen. Thirteen years later I found myself working as a professional chef. This is my story of a journey through the culinary industry from working on a line and an American lifestyle.

In this MTV driving culture with reality shows like The Real World and MTV’s Spring Break along with movies like Jackass and Borat, my generation has been exploited as a sex driving party culture. Through my experience as a cook I was able to par take in this American ritual.

I started working as a dishwasher at the tender age of thirteen after being asked by a stranger, “Hey kid, you want a job.” That stranger would end up becoming a dear friend to me and the sole person responsible for sending me down the path of being cooking. I worked for this man all through high school and eventually parted ways because he put the idea in my head that I was capable of working anywhere. I put this suggestion to test when I was nineteen and moved to Ocean City, Maryland. Not experiencing what it meant to go to college and live in a dorm or what it meant to go on spring break, I quickly got both of these experiences when I arrived in O.C., MD..

I lived with sixteen guys in a six bedroom, two bathroom apartment on the second floor. Below us was the mirror image of our apartment but instead it was sixteen girls. Needless to say it was the best summer of my life. We all worked and lived at the same restaurant one hundred feet from the beach. I now knew what I had been exposed to after all those years watching MTV. That was an important summer because I had proved to myself that I truly could support myself cooking.

After years of desiring to move to California, I finally had something tangible that would work. I had already moved to Maryland, lived, worked and partied; I felt confident that I could make California possible. I spent only a night packing up my things and car. To my Mother’s horror and dismay, I left the next morning to drive cross country. This is when I learned what it really meant to be supporting yourself as a line cook. Six years later with a whole lot more kitchen experience, I made it to San Francisco.