When I started cooking professionally, I thought becoming a chef was mostly about learning to cook really well. That’s definitely part of it. But the kitchen has a funny way of teaching you things you didn’t realize were on the syllabus.
I’ve worked in country clubs, hotels, restaurants, production kitchens, butcher shops, and kitchens where we were opening the doors for the first time and figuring things out in real time. I’ve helped open a dozen operations, led large teams, and cooked for events with thousands of guests. None of those experiences came with a pause button.
Early on, I measured progress by what I could personally execute. Could I move faster? Could I nail that sauce? Could I get through a rough service without losing my mind? Eventually I learned that leading a kitchen is less about being the person who can do everything and more about helping everyone else do their jobs well.
A good chef needs to understand flavor, technique, and timing. A leader also needs patience, organization, clear expectations, and the ability to solve problems without making everybody else’s day worse. That last one is a skill you work on. Trust me.
I’ve had mentors who pushed me hard, corrected me when I needed it, and showed me what professional standards really looked like. At the time, I didn’t always appreciate every lesson. Looking back, I’m grateful for the people who cared enough to tell me when something wasn’t good enough.
I’ve also made plenty of mistakes. Dishes that didn’t work. Services that went sideways. Ideas that looked brilliant on paper and considerably less brilliant once I tried to execute them. Those moments are frustrating, but they stick with you. They force you to adapt.
The older I get, the more I enjoy sharing what I’ve learned. Seeing a younger cook finally understand a technique or find confidence on the line is a different kind of reward. I’m still happiest when I’m creating something, but now I care just as much about helping somebody else get better.
After more than twenty years, I still consider myself a student of this craft. There are too many ingredients to discover, too many traditions to learn from, and too many talented people to meet to ever think you’ve arrived. And honestly, that’s part of the fun.