Having a Kid has made me a better Chef

I never really thought about what having a kid was like. 

I never thought I was going to have one. 

I remember contemplating things like child birth but not the actual raising of another human. I felt I was making the responsible choice to not have a kid. I was a workaholic. I was extra spontaneous. I like to drink and curse and travel when ever I wanted. My own family was pretty fucking dysfunctional. I didn't have a lot of stable relationships.

These were all great reasons to not have a child.

Then, while barely married to my husband, we had had massive problems over the last year and were technically separated, I made the oh-so-Chardonnay-influenced dumb ass decision to NOT be protected one night. Fact was, he HAD been better lately, and we WERE getting along. Though many of my belongings were at another place, I was spending 4 nights a week with him. 

And besides, you can't get pregnant ONE time, right? 

What was I like 15? 

Not exactly.

Anyway, there you have it. Decisions were made and this little person became...

I truly did not understand what this meant.

I was WRONG (take a picture, I don't say that often) about how much time, effort, emotion and energy this little human was going to require from me. 

                                     

So wrong.

In my delusion when I was pregnant, I thought I would be able to just pick up where I was before she was born and do my work. I now know why mothers back then would chuckle with a knowing smile.

Now, I am not going to use this post to whine about how tired I was, and how drained, and maybe slightly depressed and usually un-showered. 

I am going to tell you how it made me a better chef.

I have always been a whirlwind, especailly in the kitchen. I could tear up a 5 course meal for 8 in nothing flat. I could throw down tapas for 50 like it was child's play. I could crank out crepes like my name was Pierre. However, because of my shear force of energy and the fact that I was only responsible for myself and maybe one Sous Chef, I had bad habits.

With a little, delicate thing around that spends a ton of time on the floor, puts everything in its mouth, needs to be fed, changed, hugged and taught things, doesn't always nap like you want and generally picks the worst time to melt down, these habits HAD to change.

Having a kid has made me a cleaner chef.

Look, I was always careful about health concerns but I'll admit, I liked creating a mess in the kitchen. Spilled flour down the front? Sure. Splash tomato sauce on the floor, drop herbs, slop batter, oil on my shoes? You bet. You clean as you go but the floor is kind of a free for all until the end. 

Not anymore.

Now I'm conscious of the little one that will be on that gross floor. I make sure the trash lid is securely down and that ALL of my food trash makes it into the can. NO SLOPPING chicken juice on the floor.  

I wash my hands constantly, because I never know when I am going to have to grab her with her sensitive skin and change her, or keep her Fromm coloring on the walls instead ofher paper, removing her shoes...etc.

I wipe the fronts of the cabinets, the prep tables, the fridges, everything multiple times while working, rather than just at the end.

I clean behind stuff.

                               

Having a kid has made it imperative that I always plan ahead.

Like I said, bad habits. But before child, I often liked to fly by the seat of my pants on some events. I mean, hey, the shit came out mostly, really good and people usually had enough wine that they didn't care...

But now, ah hell no!

Now, I fly by the seat of HER pants.

I research.

I plan out the menu to the garnish, with back ups just in case.

I make production sheets in order of time and plan to make things that can be done ahead...well, AHEAD.

I make lists for packing the truck. I make day-of production sheets and execution sheets.

I build in time to pack things up.

It truly has taken my product from "mostly really good" to badass. 

And with no freaking out.

Having a kid has made me devoted to Mise en place.

I have my stuff so set in my kitchen, so well thought out, that I could cook int he dark.

Seriously.

Before starting anything I get all my prep down and with each dish lay out all my ingredients in the proper order and amounts.

Everything goes back to its "spot." 

It is a beautiful thing and makes cooking infinitely more pleasant and smooth.

Especially when you get your crunch time in 20 minute spurts of "Yo Gabba Gabba and coloring.

Having a child has made me a genius at improvisation in the kitchen.

Nothing is less predictible than a kid. In fact, they fuck with you by napping 2 hours at 1pm for a week only to go insane and refuse to nap the day you are prepping for a cocktail party for 40.

Not only that but the pot/spatula/plastic bowl that held her attention for an hour everyday this week is now tossed aside like milky oysters. 

Improvise. 

Between Mommy Brain fucking making you forget shit, the scramble to entertain the offspring, her jacked up nap schedule and the stove/oven/mixer, you are bound to fuck some shit up. When you do, be ready to make something else work, QUICK! 

From forgetting to thaw out the meat to not purchasing the special herb, I have screwed myself enough times to have forced myself to be a master at making shit up.

Just like cooking from a mystery basket, improvising on the fly, because life (especially with a kid) is unpredictable, makes you a more creative, more focused chef.

 Having a child has made me learn to laugh at my chef fails.

BC (before child) I used to rage, and then brood and stew over screwing up. I didn't fuck up often but when I did I was livid and often petty. Sometimes I would blame others, or the vendors, or the client. Ultimately however, I was just really terrible at admitting when I was wrong or when I had fucked up.

Now AC (after child) I find I can take a step back and acknowledge my failures. 

Just the other day I was making fried chicken for an event. It was a social thing, not a hired thing, but still, I am always a chef. So it's time to change the oil. I take the cast iron to the sink, dump the oil and am going to run hot water in the pan. I SHOULD remove my right hand from the pot's handle, THEN turn on water with the left. 

*Note: "SHOULD." 

Major 3rd degree steam burns on my fingers. Ouch.

And STUPID STUPID STUPID.

In all this debacle, I didn't keep up with the time on that batch of chicken. Later when my husband and another guest were biting into it some pieces they weren't cooked all the way through.

Major chef fail.

Not to mention the burns made me look like I had leprosy. But there was no point in raging. It was all too absurd and all I could to do was apologize and start laughing. 

Having a child makes you realize that there are much more important things to fuck up.

Like another little human who relies on you to teach her how to be a productive, honorable, responsible member of the planet.

Throwing fucking fits and blaming others when you screw up is obviously not the best example. 

But more than that, so what? 

Even I, Queen of Perfection, screw the pooch once in a while, it's part of life. 

And, it ALWAYS works out better when you can just cop to it. 

"Yep, I royally fucked up. Haha, that was a spectacular disaster. What can I do to make up for it?"

Clients often seem to respond better when you can laugh at yourself rather than rage, friends and family ALWAYS do.

It's amazing all of the ways I've improved as a chef amid the chaos of AC life. Oh and I've got this new, ridiculously cute sous chef in a dish towel apron "assisting" me in the kitchen by banging on metal bowls with a wooden spoon and randomly handing me funnels.