The pride and perils of returning to work

So I started a new job a couple of weeks ago and despite that fact that it's kicking my butt, I am really happy.

If you know me, you know that I have had a few other careers in my life (academic, teacher, interpreter, sales and marketing person, freelance writer) but the one I probably enjoyed the most was baker. When the career I spent way too many years in school preparing for crashed and burned (...), I turned to something I loved to make myself feel better and that's when a minor interest turned into a full-fledged passion. I spent a year in the kitchen of a well-known local restaurant assisting the pastry chef and learned more than any food network show or food magazine I devoured could ever teach me. At the time I thought it was a fun way to dip my toe in the water of an industry I'd always been interested in while learning if it was something I really wanted to do.

After that year, life took me in other directions for a while and five years after starting my pastry apprenticeship with my good friend Tom, here I am in my first pastry chef job. I'm not sure why they gave me the job, except that I have a lot of heart and passion for food and my employers must have seen something in me they recognized. I may not have all the experience or qualifications another person fresh out of culinary school or with years of cooking professionally behind her would have, but I'll always try my hardest and take pride in what I do and make. And it seems to be appreciated. Besides, if I were better at choosing jobs based not on how they make me feel but on unimportant details like how lucrative or practical they are, I wouldn't be me. Nevertheless, I am really happy to have this opportunity.

Some highlights of my first couple of weeks in the kitchen of an exciting new restaurant include almost crying on the day before opening when I realized what I had gotten myself into and in that same moment realizing if I ever cried as the only woman in a kitchen full of foul-mouthed male cooks, they'd eat me alive. I got through that really tough day and made enough progress to eventually feel like I could do the job.

Then, after realizing one of my recipes was great for making one at a time (at home), but way too labor-intensive for a restaurant, and yet it was on the menu and they were already printed--I switched gears and found a great substitute that is much easier for large-batch cooking and seems to be just as well liked. Problem solved.

the chocolate pie that nearly killed me

In addition to working a few days a week making the restaurant's desserts, I also got myself into working as a server a couple of nights to 1) pay the bills and 2) have some fun. I have already discovered I am too old and crusty and I would much rather be slaving away in the back of the house  listening to loud 80s music and working alongside my fellow masochists than dealing with customers and perky 23-year-old fellow servers. But I will persevere waiting tables for as long as I can take it and try to remember the real reason I am there. At least I can totally sell the desserts.

zucchini-olive oil cake with lemon glaze, cooling

Perhaps the biggest challenge of the last few weeks for me has been making the transition to going back to work after being a stay-at-home-mom for the last two years. I could write many paragraphs on this subject, but this is a food blog not a mommy blog, so I'll spare you. What I will say is that sometimes I look at my daughter's face when I have to leave and go to work and my heart sinks and I feel that work is not all it's cracked up to be. And other times, I feel proud that I'm doing something that's hard and rewarding and also helping our family's finances at the same time and I want to set that example for my little girl so she knows that her options are many. For us right now it's all about making this transition as carefully and easily as possible and trying to find the balance of work and life that is right for us.

June on her first day back at "school"

When I came home last Sat. night at 11:30 pm and my husband was asleep on the couch while my $200 All-Clad soup pot (that had an hour or so earlier contained water in it for pasta), boiled away to nothing and were it not such a stellar piece of equipment might have burned the house down, I thought that maybe things had gotten out of balance. After all, the man has been taking on more parenting duties (which, believe me, is every bit as hard if not harder than working) and still has a physically demanding full-time job. After scolding him for his carelessness I had to thank him for his thoughtfulness: he was just trying to have dinner ready for me when I got home from work.

what keeps me going...

In closing, I'm going to steal the Bukowski quote that a friend who is a successful small-business owner and mom used when asked by an interviewer what her fears were: "Find what you love and let it kill you." Well, I may not have lighted on my life's most important work with this new job, but at least I'm headed in the right direction. I am so lucky to have such a supportive husband and sweet, loving, secure and well-adjusted daughter. If we can manage to not burn the house down, I think we'll all survive.

Nourish-ing for the soul

Last night I had the opportunity to volunteer for a wonderful and worthy event and I also had a lot of fun in the process. I was reminded of the way I felt back when I volunteered for the World Pastry Championships in Nashville and of how great it felt to both be a part of an exciting event and to be around chefs and work with food. I've got to do it more often.

Last night's fun was a benefit that took place at our local farmer's market called Nourish Nashville. A benefit for the Nashville Food Project, it was a four-course dinner with wine pairings prepared by some of the best chefs in the Southeast followed by an auction. The dinner was sold out and at $160 a pop, it was a huge success.

My role was to assist the (some of them James Beard Award nominee) chefs in the kitchen. When I first arrived there was a bit of confusion and not a lot to do. I saw some friendly faces, Cara and chef Hal, owners of the soon to be opened around the corner from my house (yay!) Lockeland Table. 

I jumped right in and helped plate the appetizers Chef Hal Holden-Bache was preparing: beef heart tartare with mustard green and peanut pesto, and pickled Gulf shrimp with cucumber mint salsa (photo above). Yum. After tasting these and knowing what these two are capable of, I cannot wait for their new venture to open.

Then, there was some waiting and standing around while the MC (none other than esteemed Southern food expert and journalist, John Edgerton) talked about the cause and introduced important people. In the kitchen the man who seemed to be in charge, or at least the one everyone looked up to, was Chef John Fleer (of Canyon Kitchen at Lonesome Valley in North Carolina but known formerly as the man behind Blackberry Farm, one of my all-time-would-die-to-eat-there-let-alone-stay-there places in the world). I was equally impressed by him and by his calm and courteous demeanor. He even thanked the volunteers for being there (before we even did anything).

(the first course: tomato terrine, Empire State South Fromage Blanc, bread crakers, country ham, fennel and Georgia olive oil, prepared by Empire State South (Atlanta) chef Ryan Smith.

Each chef was responsible for one course and as the tables were lined up and the chefs and their assistants started stacking plates and getting their ingredients ready, it became a joint effort and it took every set of hands from every chef or volunteer to get the 250 + plates ready to go out. Once the course was plated, it was picked up by the servers and whisked off to be devoured by guests seated just beyond the flimsy curtain that separated the kitchen from the makeshift market hall dining room.

I wanted to be a part of the energy even if just as a bystander so I stood nearby watching as they readied the first course. I never thought that I'd be asked to jump in and help plate this delicious and complicated-looking food. But when a chef motioned for me to jump in the line, I didn't hesitate and my job was to carefully place a little mound of chili-braised Tuscan kale alongside the crusted Sunburst trout and rum-sorghum glazed pork belly--the second course-- prepared by none other than Chef Fleer himself. I tried not to falter and work as fast as everyone else was working and it really was a well-oiled assembly line of quick hands and sliding plates. Wow, it was fun.

 (there I am in the middle, looking very serious).

The third course (prepared by Taylor Ricketts of Delta Bistro in Greenwood, MS) looked amazing and it was all I could do to not visibly drool while I stood there sprinkling the shaved almonds on top of the mound of buerre noisette-poached rabbit saddle roulade over burrata risotto, with pear confit, fried sweet potato greens, acacia honey with dried fruit and almonds. (Whew). It took about as many people to plate as it did words to describe. Chef Hal, who was working next to me, handed me a bite of the rabbit after we were done and it melted in my mouth.

The final, dessert course looked mouth-wateringly good too and I did get to try that one at the end of the night, sharing a leftover plate with another volunteer.  It was prepared by Tandra Watkins of Ashley's Restaurant in Little Rock, AR and it was a blueberry and buckwheat upside-down cake with coriander cream. Oh. my. goodness. It was ridiculous. That was fun to plate because we all just walked around the tables randomly setting the little cakes on top of the triangular-shaped plates with drizzled blueberry sauce and then spooning (or "quenelle-ing" -is that a word?) the cream on top of each one.

(here is Chef John Fleer getting into helping out by drizzling blueberry sauce).

At the end of the night, I drank a spot of bourbon with the other chefs and then headed out, a quart-sized mason jar of mustard green pesto under my arm as a gift from Chef Hal, tickled pink with myself and vowing to volunteer for another event like that as soon as I could.  Thanks to my friend Amanda Dixon for sending the opportunity my way.