All my life, passion, rather than reason, has led to my relationships, my jobs and my extracurricular activities. It's why I ended up in culinary school when I have a house, some kids and a few pets to support.
Here's the short version: I've always been a late bloomer. Dated late.
Married late. Had kids late. Learned who I am late. I've been a librarian
and an editor (both books and magazines) but I realized about a year ago
that I was ready for a change. I began thinking about what makes me happy.
Cooking centers me. It always has. It's what I do when I want to relax
and what I do when I want to feel energized. It's one way I choose to love my family and friends. I find peace in the preparation, comfort as I cook, satisfaction from the creativity and joy from the faces of those I feed.
When my niece announced last summer she was planning to attend culinary school in San Francisco, I was overcome with jealousy. I thought 24/7 for the next week about what she was doing and struggled to remember why I hadn't followed up on my own many-years-old plan to go to the Culinary Institute of America.
Mistakes? I've made many, but I don't want to have any regrets. And,
when the time comes, I don't want to find myself eye-to-eye with a long Bucket List. So I took a deep breath, resigned from my day job and enrolled at a one of the culinary schools here in metropolitan Phoenix. Call me crazy. Call me brave. I'll keep you posted.
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Ever wanted to know what it's like to go to culinary school? Here's your chance, as one local wanna-be-chef tells tales out of school. Check back soon for the next installment of "Cooking School Secrets."