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Come on, Teacher Saturday, March 8, 2008

Posted by Grace in strange days.
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A dear friend of mine, Delicious, has a husband who is a chef. It’s a very creative household, with Deliciously Divine who’s involved with fashion and design having recently married said chef.

The Chef had a day off of work, and he had invited me over for dinner with the two of them. We were having a great time prepping dinner in the kitchen, shooting the breeze, and waiting for Deliciously Divine to get home from work when I learned something I didn’t know about him.

The Chef has his law degree. He has also written and passed the bar. But, as I’ve been informed, all throughout his bachelor’s degree, and through law as well he would find himself stressing out about exams and papers and find himself in the kitchen, cooking. That cooking helped hold him fast when situations got chaotic. He told me how he would just need that little bit of time in the kitchen to get settled and centered, and then everything would seem much more linear and doable.

Recognize that at all?

He told me all of this after hearing about how crazy University sometimes seems for me. How I love what I’m taking, but keep finding myself in the kitchen, baking, because it does on occasion get to be too much.

He told me that after he wrote the bar exam, and was waiting that unbearable wait to see if he was going to be able to practice law, he spent days in the kitchen. Days. And in his time there amongst the blanching greens and browning meats, he realized that he was where he was supposed to be. That he had taken all of this schooling for something he was supposed to be born and bred for, as he comes from one of those lawyer families. They’re all lawyers. He got into law because he thought he was supposed to, and he thought that it really was what he wanted.

He graduated near the top of his class. He seemed to have a future ahead of him in it. But waiting for the examination results to be posted he realized he didn’t want a court room. He wanted a kitchen, and so he applied to culinary school.

Now, he didn’t tell me this to push me into his profession. He just told me because I was telling him something that reminded him of his own history. He expressly made sure to tell me that he wasn’t trying to imply anything or suggest direction.

I really love the direction my education is taking me. I find the field very exciting and would love to someday make contributions to it.Still, there are those days when buried under a pile of textbooks to take readings from, labs to write reports on, notes to recopy and flesh out, and exam marathons to do and I find myself yearning for and wandering into the kitchen.

Song of the Day: Come On, Teacher – The Joel Plaskett Emergency

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