Gratitude

For those of who who don't know, money has been extremely tight for Brian and me this summer. There was the wedding, my hours being cut at Stool Pigeons, new job, car problems, and high gas prices. All made me think about a return to ramen noodles. Thankfully, it hasn't reached that point, but you get the idea. We have been broke.

We decided to withdrawal some money from Brian's retirement to help pay for my classes and get caught up on some bills. We filled out all the paperwork. Apparently, Brian's bosses have to approve any withdrawals. Don't know why. We're grown-ups, and it's our money. But whatever. Yesterday, Lin and Oren came to Brian to talk about this. They disapproved the request, saying it was not wise to take money out based on taxes and the like.

Instead, they are giving him a bonus on this Friday's paycheck equivalent to the cost of my tuition. This bonus is above, beyond, and in addition to the performance-based bonus the whole company might receive in October. I cried. This is a huge weight off of our shoulders. My husband must really be valuable to Brown Greer for them to offer us help like this. And I've never met either of them. Their generosity is overwhelming. And it only makes me believe even more that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing in culinary school.

What's even more ironic is that this news came ten minutes before my last training shift at The Hard Shell. It was my kitchen shift. Our chef, Matt, has worked all over Richmond. Most notably at Lemaire in the Jefferson Hotel. The executive chef there is Walter Bundy, who has worked with Thomas Keller. Those of who who don't know who he is, Google him. Long story short, my chef has run with the big boys. The really big boys. And some how, Matt knew as soon as I walked into the kitchen yesterday that I will be going to culinary school in August. How? I don't know. We'll get to why this is important in a minute.

Chef walked me through every inch of that kitchen. What is in the leek creme fraiche, the difference between the Chesapeake and Blue Point Oysters, the fried plantains, all the sauces and dressings, how he comes up with the nightly specials, and on and on and on. All the while, he's turning out course after course of yummy looking food. Every time he makes a dish, he throws on an extra piece for me to taste.

I think most of you know how I feel about seafood. I want to like it. Honest. I just haven't really liked anything that I've ever tried. Since I started working there, I've made an effort to be open minded about seafood. My theory is, if anyone can turn me on to it, this will be the place. Nothing is frozen. Everything is from scratch. I will develop a taste for it here, or never. Let's go back to the chef knowing I want to be a chef. This means I must eat without fear. I must eat like a chef. What's the first thing he makes me taste?

Calamari.

Are you kidding me? Can we start out easy? Maybe a scallop or some fresh tuna? You really want me to put squid in my mouth? All the guys are watching me. I have to eat it. I HAVE to eat it! "Here, try it with the sauce," he says. I count to three. I dip it in the sauce. I put it in my mouth. I put the chewy, chewy squid in my mouth. And chew. And chew. They laugh. "What do you think?" I'm still chewing. Swallow. The taste isn't bad, but that texture is not OK. Chef reassures me that it's not for everyone. Up next?

Fried oysters.

Come on! Are you trying to break me? Mind you, I haven't told him that I don't like seafood. I've only said that I haven't eaten a lot of it. I stare at it. He gives me some sauce. I dip. I get ready to take a bite, and he says, "Don't bite it in half. You have to eat it all at once." Ew. You know what? Not bad. Not great, but not bad. The night continued on like this. I had scallops, tuna, salmon (yum), ribs, potato croquettes, lobster bisque, she crab soup, and Alaskan king crab. It was amazing. Not only (some of) the food, but just watching him.

One of the specials for the evening was a scallop pasta. Six scallops, seared to a beautiful brown on top of linguine tossed with artichokes, roasted tomatoes, and garlic with a leek cream/white wine sauce. I watched him make it, watched him sear the scallops, deglaze the pan with wine (which makes big, fun flames) and toss all that stuff together. He finished it and I said, "I need that in my life."

He kept asking me if I had any questions. I really couldn't think of any. I was just in awe. And full of gratitude. Thankful to be standing there. Thankful to be working in a place where food is what's important. Thankful that I'm allowed to be in the kitchen for two short hours. Thankful that my husband's hard work has been noticed by his bosses. Thankful that I have a husband who is fully supportive of my dreams. Thankful for my time managing at Stool Pigeons, which allowed me to discover that THIS is what I want to do. Thankful that I had the guts to apply for a new job and go back to school. Just all around grateful to be heading, finally, towards something that feels good and right and honest and true. I have no more words. This feeling is bigger than language.

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity.... It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."
~Melodie Beattie