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.
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."
