Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God.
Matthew 19:23
I’m not a chef, though I love to cook.
I don’t even cook very often anymore, being wrapped up in my life, at present, trying to pull together enough money to live.
But I do love chefs and I adore their creations. I love their worlds so much that, sometimes, I feel I’m missing something important by not serving their dishes, tantalizing and presenting their concoctions to unsuspecting guests.
I met a chef recently who will soon be famous through her recent deeds, who’s certainly on her way in this world, with whom I worked for a bit towards her dream of sharing the reality of restaurant life with the world. In our much-too-short endeavor together, I found myself pulled back into that life: the harried world of overworked chefs and cooks behind the line, pouring their hearts, souls, and every ounce of physical effort they can muster into the work at hand - just to present beautiful dish after beautiful dish, with no thought meanwhile for anything but that steady line of singularly, repetitiously glorious plates of food.
There is no room for thought of anything but the highest appreciation when chefs and their cooks prepare so many plates, bowls, dishes stacked with sumptuous, aesthetic gustatory delights; and whether the guests who receive these dishes savor every bite or entirely miss the point of the culmination of flavors and textures matters little to these relentless workers, unless the guests are somehow unhappy with the experience - though, avoiding displeased guests is of the highest ideals for any self-respecting kitchen staff.
It’s this seeking for perfection that I adore in restaurants; and the camaraderie built on moving together towards a singular purpose, in which every person - from dishwasher to busboy to server and bartender to each and every line cook, all the way to the chef, managers, and owners - play an integral and vital part. It’s such an unusual world in which everyone works terrifically hard, and where the ultimate pay-off is a smoothly-run evening where every dish is mesmerizingly delicious.
Something of this industry acknowledges and accepts that the construction of momentous moments demands profound dedication and extreme effort. Something of those in this industry grasps the intuitive acquiescence of one’s self to a higher purpose - even if one’s higher purpose is “just” food. Something in us, who are a part of this world to any degree, understands and accepts our individual place within the cosmos of the restaurant, grasps that we must learn to be within our present role in order to reach beyond it, that we must humble ourselves to its methods and rules and to those who reign until we dare brave a new way with our lessons and ideas in tow - or abdicate and accept The Powers That Be.
For me, I left The Industry to step into my own parallel universe: a world of writing about food, of sharing my passion for food and for the food world with those who may be interested or intrigued, who may exist within the culture I left or who may indulge occasionally in its bounties. As a server, I always shared my food-related passions and intrigues with my customers; now, my audience and subject matter is broader, if more (and longingly) remote.
Yet, at my core, I am still a citizen of this world; I still hail from it, still learned from it, still relate deeply to those within it. I still claim it, and all those within it, and all those who claim the same passion, drive and purpose within their own realms, as my kin.
We are those who love without thought, who love senselessly, who work relentlessly, who defy reason with our sense of purpose when that purpose is virtually incomprehensible to those who surround us, who love us - and sometimes, even to ourselves.
We are the craftsmen and -women - of the kitchen, of farms, of the art world, of leisure and of beauty... whether we are servers, tempting patrons with delights we know but they do not; dishwashers ensuring plates are clean and ready for service; jovial bartenders entertaining with luscious libations; painters pouring our souls upon canvas; singers aching with every lyric sung; actors erupting with emotion; doctors striving to save every patient.
We create, with every moment. We care, with every step, with every motion. We divulge the secrets of the universe with every moment you enter our sphere - and that is why you come, repeatedly, unsuspectingly, unconsciously to indulge.
This is our world, our universe, our Paradise-Found and Paradise-Lost.
This is Foodieville, the Restaurant World.
