Let's feed each other with love

My heart is heavy as I write this to you. If you're following me on Facebook and Instagram, you know I didn't feel it was appropriate to go live with my cooking segment this week.

These recent events are a shock to the system. A blow. I come from The Kitchen. A place where the color of one's skin, their economic status, or their education was never a consideration. In the kitchen, everyone is either capable of their skill set and the tasks immediately at hand, or they're not. End of story. Can you hang?

There were times early In my career that I could not keep up, and I paid, on the receiving end of harsh criticism from the chef in charge. Later, I was the enforcer. One learns quickly to get it together. But -  once the day (or night) was done, everyone kicked back, took a breath, ate “family meal” together, cracked open a few beers or a bottle of wine, and everything was normal. Front of the house, back of the house, managers, owners. Everyone was equal. It was symbiotic. One couldn't be a success without the other. We had one simple goal, service to the patrons. Make it delicious and enjoyable and memorable enough for them to want to return. It was a labor of love. It was the same in every kitchen I worked.

I think about people I know in other professions whose life work is a labor of love. A passion, a commitment to making life better for others, no matter what, to serve humanity. And I'm proud to say I love them, not for what they are, but for who they are and what they do. Let's all feed each other. With Love. And Hope. And really good food. 

xoxo,
-t