I guess it all began in my grandmother’s kitchen. Between the catchy Jackson 5 tunes and the sound of ice melting in a glass of Dr. Pepper and lime, her loving hands taught me to make pie. Some of my fondest childhood memories revolve around food; picking blackberries for jam with mom, picking vegetable’s from Mimi’s garden with my little sister and fancy tea parties with tea sandwiches and women in funny hats. I loved cooking from the moment i tasted that creamy chocolate pie that I co-cooked with Mimi (although she gave me full credit), but I never considered it as a career choice. I graduated high school early and a friend suggested I try culinary school just to see if I liked it. I figured I would give it a whirl. The second I slipped on the chef coat and walked into that kitchen, even though I spent weeks crying as I learned to chop onions in different ways, I knew.
The smells, the sounds, the adrenaline rush…. I knew. I was born to cook. So I stuck with it. I finished a 2 year program at a mediocre school with a top-notch teacher. Regardless of what anyone says, teachers make all the difference. Thanks to my teacher I not only discovered a love for the kitchen, but the reason for that love. Over the years I was blessed with the opportunity to participate in culinary workshops around the world. I have spent the past several years working and establishing my career goals. Those small steps have become strides. I have been featured in in culinary publications, I teach culinary arts, cater private events, travel for different culinary projects and run my own business. While I work, I still thirst for knowledge. The kitchen is like a country without borders and I still have so much to explore.
The International Poor Chef School Project 