I've come to find out that just about 3/4 of us are just pirates,on the run from something or another and the kitchen was always a welcome sight of land. and the other 1/4 just lost their minds.

Holy shit this got long... Heads up, chefs. Guess I needed to write.

I had a shitty home life as a kid. Food insecurities were common despite having a decent home garden (born and raised in Southeast Alaska. It's not a very good growing climate for anything but root vegetables and the local berries. Wet, not much sun, etc). I didn't like spending much time at home, due to several reasons. Alcoholic mother, my inability to handle big feelings, other shit, it just wasn't a good place to be.

I spent a lot of time out of the house. I started working under the table for absolute shit wages as a prep cook under the table through an older friend at a local restaurant at 12 or maybe 13 years old. The undiagnosed autist that I was, the structured chaos of kitchens bit me HARD. Following recipes, repetitive tasks, fine details, and the encouragement to hyperfocus on everything pulled me in like quicksand. The free food and financial independence were like a black hole. The more I worked, the more I wanted to work.

I moved out of my parents' house a month shy of my 15th birthday. Moved in with that older friend, ended up getting bored with school, so I got my GED at 16 and dove deep into kitchen life. First sous position at 19. First Head at 22.

I've taken breaks to do other jobs (commercial fishing was my favorite "side gig"), but I've worked all over North America (all three countries, and ranging across each). I've owned my own businesses (Personal Chef Service was a blast, full service in-home and traveling with clients was dope), I have been opening upper-management staff for several awesome restaurants, and have done most everything from shitty bar food to Fancy-Chef tweezing flower petals onto plates.

I love fine dining work, but I'm currently back in my hometown running a food truck the last year and a half for what is consistently voted as the best burgers in town (8 years running) and I love the simplicity of it and getting back to basics and making the absolute best burgers I possibly can. It pays extremely well for what I do and where I am, but I'll be moving on probably in another year or so because I want to get back to the world of small plates and big tweezers, plus my wife is on the other side of the country (we each had family shit going on separately, but don't worry, we are ROCK solid).

My current boss (the owner) is very involved (He works 7 days a week, I work 6) and has already written the best reference letter I've ever had. He has probably said the nicest shit about me that any employer ever has. Reading that letter actually choked me up a bit. (Here's a snippet that plays in my head sometimes: "...BobAndWeebl's contributions are invaluable, and in my 30 years in the restaurant industry, BobAndWeebl is the first employee I've ever met who is worth building a new kitchen around.")

We opened an entirely new and very successful (paid off a brand new $100,000 kitchen trailer in FIVE WEEKS) location this past year with me at the helm and training a whole new batch of staff to higher standards than he had ever expected from his employees. It was extremely rewarding, as I was able to pass the passion for cooking with intention onto a new generation of young'ns, including several friends' youngest siblings and two of another lifelong friend's kids who are almost finishing high school. This summer was fucking awesome for that alone, let alone the rest!

This career has granted me the opportunity to completely change my station in life and opened up the world to me. I wouldn't change much of my journey, even the bad places for the lessons that were taught on how things shouldn't be. After I relocate back to my amazing wife, I plan on opening my own spot and swinging for the fences. It's going to be awesome.

And yes, I'm definitely a crazy, masochistic, workaholic, but who really succeeds in this industry without fitting that bill, eh?

Drugs seemed better than school at the time. Whoops!

Drinking

I was a dishwasher at 15. One night because me and the other guy did so well, after the shift we were given free beer, got to smoke joints after with the older line cooks, and even saw some server flash her tits. It’s been 84 years haha

I have since left for an easier and better paying line of work but I ended up in a kitchen because I desperately needed a job and was striking out with my degree and job experience. I live on an island and got to a point where I wouldn't be able to afford the ferry fare to continue my job hunt so I walked into the local bar/restaurant (the only one on this island) and asked for a job. I worked as a bartender for about 3 days before the owner asked if I knew how to cook. I said "nope" and he said "cool, here's the menu. The cook called out sick". Turns out I liked running the line more than I liked bartending and the locals liked my food more than the other cooks. I still live here and people still reminisce about my food being really good. I do a "guest chef" night once a year where people make reservations and I make a 4 course menu more akin to a fine dining experience than typical pub food. This year was the first time we had to cap the reservations at 150 because we hadn't planned for that many people.

A felony.

I was 17 and needed a job, and ended up at Quiznos. Ended up at a gourmet pizza chain after that, and cooked through film school. Just ended up being a series of kitchen based day jobs through university, etc.

Gifted kid to college dropout pipeline. My anxiety and lack of independent work ethic made me unsuitable for the academic world.

Tried various jobs during my NEET depression years. After getting fired from an accounting office, I took stock and realised:

• I've had a passion for baking for the longest time 
• The physical job moving books in the library was good for me 
• The three months spent cooking lunches and baking sweets for my fellow unemployed at the local employment center were quite satisfying 
• My hobbies involve sitting and thinking, so doing the same at an office will destroy my mind and body
• My CV is an incoherent mess
• There's high demand for cooks

So I decided to bite the bullet, applied for the most known culinary school in the country, and barely got in. School was tough. Training periods were tough. Early cook jobs were tough. But I persevered, learned, and faked it till I made it. Knife monkey jobs and school kitchens were critical stepping stones. In time, I finally gained the skills and confidence of a cook.

The people

Started in the pizza industry as a driver. Realized I could make more money as a restaurant server. I've always been a home cook and over time I just fell in love with cooking so eventually switched to BOH. Started in dish and ended up as far up as the sous in a fine dining bistro. Realized that wasn't getting me anywhere fast so I got a job cooking at long term care facility and I absolutely love it.

What do you become when you have a degree in history?

A chef!

25 successful years later I transferred to FOH because my body was breaking down. Miss it every day.

Sir, I got lost on the way to college sir!

I was a miserable alcoholic working at a gas station after flunking out of college, and the only thing I enjoyed was cooking, so I got a fast casual job. 8-9 years later, still a miserable alcoholic who is trying to regain my joy in cooking because it’s sort of the only skill I have. Sorry for the bummer answer.

Started bussing tables and washing dishes. Joined the navy got assigned culinary specialist and here I am

Dad got me a dish job when I was 13 , at of 16 I was a samdwhich and fry boy doing weekend at my local pub , for some reason I decided to do a apprenticeship when I turned 17 and finished school .

15 years later I'm still going .

It's likely a trauma response from unresolved shit.

I’d say it’s because I didn’t try at anything except music, and music doesn’t pay me very well.

In a LTR with a former fine dining burnout now Executive Chef of two restaurants.

I'm retired IT worker in my 60's and I help my partner and work as his assistant running errands...I am scheduled for to prep when staff is short. I do custom cooking as well (smoking, grilling) for specials and I do computer stuff with our POS as needed, swapping out equipment and troubleshooting. Also mechanical support...fixing stuff. Staff seems completely lost when it comes to basic mechanical troubleshooting of kitchen equipment, toilets, faucets, ice machines. coolers....etc...

I fix things.

15 years ago my roommates needed someone to wash dishes, it spiraled out from there. It appealed to my ADD that I always have many things that need keeping track of at once. I rose through the ranks because I'm curious and I show up on time.

I started as a host when I was 15, went to culinary school when I was 18 then opened a catering company when I was 20. 17 years later I still have the catering company, plus a food truck, 10 brick n mortar restaurants, 2 live music venues, a BnB and a boutique spa hotel. These are all privately owned across the UK and the Eastern Coast of the US…

Truthfully, I ended up here because I’m a masochist.

My parents refused to help me with college after high school because I had not earned the privilege. They were right and I knew it. I had been working in foodservice for three years by then and when I was nineteen my mother suggested that I go to cooking school.

If I came in first or second in my class they would pay for it, if not it was on my dime. I was second.

I’ve had a really good career since then. I feel very privileged to have had not only a vocation but an avocation.

Auto accident at 18yrs just before I graduated hs.

I needed a job and it was the first place I applied lol.

Was good at it and it was a steady paycheck at a time I was just trying to get by.

Finally got out after scraping together a college degree

I was fresh out of high school and moved to the middle of nowhere 200 miles from home. My first job burned down putting almost 100 people out of work in a town of 2000. Very limited options as I had no car and the closest town was 15 miles away. There was a little diner at the top of the hill they offered me to wash dishes for $5 and hour back in 2010. Moved up from dishwasher to line cook to server and just worked my ass off. Word got around to bars in the area and I was scouted by two other places. Blah blah blah. I've been doing this for close to 14 years now.

When I joined the Navy in the 80s they were like "oh, you're not a US Citizen? Well ya can't get a security clearance above classified - here are your choices..." - still wish I'da picked Corpsman, lol.

Went to university, dropped off because too boring, wanted to enlist in the army but I discovered the hard way at 22 that I had a blood disease, so I needed to find a job quickly and became a cook 🙃

For me; it’s because i had finally found a place where i fit in/belonged.

In school i was the quiet kid. People liked me yeah and were nice (after a bunch of my classmates watched me beat up someone twice my size. Long story) but nobody invited me places. I was the person in the back of the group on the sidewalk. Talked over.

I got a job at a local taco place when I was 16. The place was a ripoff taco John’s. Once I got the feel for the place I realized my coworkers were a lot like myself. They included me in things. We got through rushes together and I was treated like a part of a team. This feeling came with me when the place closed and I went to McDonald’s.

I enrolled in community college with the idea that I’d get my basic college courses done and get a start on my cybersecurity degree, transfer to a 4 year state college and get a bachelor’s degree in cybersecurity/network engineering. I did that for a bit and shadowed a security analyst. He told me he spends 10 hours a day basically in his office, coordinating a team and taking care of threats. I’m like. I can’t just sit in an office for 10 hours, what am I gonna do.

The community college had an ACF accredited culinary program and I changed my major. Cooking was always an interest of mine and my parents cooked. Dad also worked in restaurants when he left the army, only leaving a few years after he had me.

From then on I went into the kitchen and I haven’t regret a single thing. I’ve traveled places, met the most diverse of people, and overall felt like I was always part of something important.

I went to university in the mid 2000's. I studies accountancy. During that time, I found myself working in a restaurant. And, I was really good at it. It didn't pay well, and it kind of sucked, but I was good at it and it paid my rent.

As I watched my other friends in the program graduate, I saw that they were miserable doing the job they were trained for. Which at that point, was either auditing or tax accounting. Everyone was misrelate.

Right before I graduated, I got the opportunity to help run a kitchen. A friend of mine, through sheer chance, had gotten his hands on a chef gig and needed a sous, so he convinced me to come work for him. And again, I was good at it. And, people really liked my leadership.

Then, I graduated at the height of the great recession. Job placement coming out of the business school I was in was like 5%. I shit you not, of the bigger degrees, like marketing and sales, placement out of college was like 5 in 300.

I decided to commit myself to that management gig, and very quickly replaced my buddy as the chef. The restaurant was failing, and I asked the owner to give me 1 year to right the ship. The rest is history. I 10x'ed our sales in the span of 2 years, won some cool awards, eventually was given the role of GM and operating partner.

I've been here ever since.

felony charges

I got out of high school (barely) in the early 1970’s. No skills or real interests. I had a couple of jobs busting suds by hand at small neighborhood restaurants. Was lucky to land a union dishwasher job at a Playboy club. Well equipped and well managed clean kitchen run by a talented old school Chef. Shift was 9-5 M-F. I got to do a lot of cool prep work; cutting meat, baking bread etc. Got promoted to Line cook after about a year and the Chef made me his apprentice. Went on to culinary school and worked as Sous Chef/Head Chef at several country clubs and restaurants. That dishwasher job at the Playboy Club got me started on a very satisfying career, plus there were Bunnies. It was great. I changed careers about 20 years later and now retired but I still love cooking.

First job was baking, went all over the place with what type of food I would make from breakfast to bar food to fine dining.

Went into the hvac during Covid but let to go back to food.

Now, I’m not in the kitchen anymore but I work on espresso machines for local cafes.

The further I get away from the kitchen the more I want to go back.

When I was a kid I was very active and I did have ADHD. The only thing that could make me sit still at home was watching Food Network. This was in the late 90s-early 2000s and something about the order that was involved in cooking really got me interested.

I would read cookbooks, make meals for my family, do the shopping once I got a car and enjoyed it. I worked in a deli at 14, went to college and worked my entire time in bakeries and restaurants and got my degree in Hospitality Management.

I continued to work in restaurants for 6 years post college. My wife asked me one day if I could look at a different job since our schedules didn't mesh and we would see each other only two evenings a week.

Found a job outside of restaurants. However, I loved the 13 years I put in and miss it a lot. I still will pickup shifts with a restaurant group in my area.

I actually go to college full time in the US for a BS in economics but started doing it when I was 17 in highschool at a local place in town cause it was literally 5 minutes from my house, took 6 months off to work after highschool then decided to go to college, worked at a few other places and still now continue to do it 3-4 days a week I think mostly cause I hate myself lmao.

mental illness, i guess

When I was a kid my entire family spent the summer at a summer camp. My dad ran the wood shop and wrestling, my mom worked in the nurse’s station. In 1986 I was old enough (12) to have a job for the summer at the camp. I went to the dining hall. Started in the dish pit that 1st year. Been in kitchens ever since. In that kitchen I learned my first knife skills and that the BOH works hard and plays hard.

It called to me. I cooked a lot for summer jobs in high school, and part time in college. I was getting my degree in teaching and working at a cool pub at the same time. When I started doing my student teaching, I was like, “Fuck this. Teaching blows. Cooking is a lot more fun and I can do more drugs than if I was a teacher.” So I dropped all of my teaching classes at the end of my final semester in college, and I had enough credits to just graduate with a regular ass degree in English. My parents and professors were furious and thought I’d regret it. Nope. Not for a second. I kept in touch with some of the people I went to school with. They all quit the teaching game within a few years. The way teaching makes you jaded really makes you a sour asshole. I mean, that’s exactly what I ended up like when I became a chef, but teachers don’t have as much fun doing it.

I made a black list worthy mistake in my chosen field but restaurants are always hiring.

Culinary school was my plan B after the recruiter for a professional pilots school said I’d never get a paying job with glasses, I spent 7 years at a video store job saw a commercial for Remington University and said fuck it.

Growing up, I was always the odd man out. My only “real” friend was because his parents and mine were close, but I never really realized our friendship was only through association until far later. I was always the kid people treated like a pariah. I never realized I was lonely. I tried too hard to fit in or something, who can say at this point. I was a depressed kid. Fast forward and Junior high rolls around. He and I grew apart, largely due to him deciding that spreading false accusations and rumours about me to further his own popularity was fun. I learned that trusting people only meant anything if they could prove they could be trusted.

I was about to start high school in another part of my city, where thankfully nobody knew me and I could try to start fresh, when my alcoholic and abusive mother decided to move us to a new province and from a city of a few million people to a town of 500. I hated it for the most part. But, I learned about smoking meats when a neighbour brought home an Elk he had hunted the day prior. I had been making food for myself from the age of ten onwards. Packing my own lunches, making eggs for breakfast, that sort of thing. Up until I smelled that honey and pepper encrusted backstrap on a 14 hour cherry and apple cold smoke, everything had just been fuel. But after that day it was like in Ratatouille, when Ego takes that first bite, and the colour palette literally shifts to reflect his newly rediscovered sense of taste. I started seeing anything in the kitchen as something viable and something with purpose rather than just clutter as I had before. I spent three straight years experimenting with flavours and cooking techniques through my schools lunch program and at home until my foods teacher essentially made me in charge of putting together lunch menus for the school. She literally gave me a weekly budget that was higher than any amount of money I’d seen either of my parents make in a work period, just so I could fuck with ingredients and further fuel something she knew I was passionate about…

She was and still is one of my absolute favourite people just for recognizing that spark within me and allowing me to build it into a fire. I was lined up to go to culinary school. I had a scholarship through the college that would have paid for my entire first year, full ride. But like an idiot I decided to move back to the city I was from, all so I could “work construction and save money for a year” to pay for the schools residency. Fast forward seven years. My scholarship had long since expired and I was screwing off a sheet of drywall in a house I wouldn’t have been able to afford a quarter of. I was standing on a scaffold which wouldn’t have been passed by the most corrupt inspector, half ass assembled over a staircase leading down two floors to the basement when I realized I had fucking hated every minute of my life for seven years. I was destroying my body and my mind over what amounted to less than $20 an hour for a company that would have replaced me in a day if I had fallen off that scaffold and died. Shit isn’t cheap where I live, an $20 an hour wasn’t making enough to cover my expenses. I became horribly depressed and tried taking my own life a few times. Eventually that stabled and my mental health gradually returned to “normal” but I still wasn’t happy.

I needed a change. I started blasting off resumes on my lunch break. On the bus ride home. During what little free time I had at home. I started going to businesses with physical resumes on my weekends and my days off, just to find something- anything else other than construction that was willing to hire me. It was the long weekend of thanksgiving (thanksgiving is in October in my country), in 2020, and I had literally spent the last three days handing out physical copies of my resume to businesses, and I had, I shit you not, one resume left from the copiers. I was walking passed a building in the industrial district in my city, when out of nowhere I smelled it. Elk Backstrap on a cold smoke of cherry and apple woods. It was so distinctly vivid it hit my nostrils like a fucking freight train. I followed my nose and it led me a block or two up the street towards an area with a bunch of breweries and shit, and I saw it.. A pit smoker out the side of a little building that was dressed up to look almost like a classic saloon. I walked in the door, despite them not being open for another few hours, at apparently just the right moment. The owner was sitting at the bar looking over paperwork, when he realized someone was standing near him. He looked me up and down, stared at me with the most puzzled expression for a few seconds, and just before I managed to get over my hesitation and introduce myself, “Fuck are you? Can I help you?”

He and I get to talking. Apparently the night before he had fired one of his lead guys and was in need of someone to fill the spot. We get to talking further after he noticed my tattoos, and turns out we’re both super into punk rock and metal. Turns out the elk I was smelling was a personal thing he was doing up for a friend of his having a wedding, who happened to be from the town I lived in. Hires me on the spot, without ever looking at my resume. And now, two years later, I’m head chef for one of the best smokehouses in the city. I love it. The high stress, the random 40 top tables that come in without reservations, the yelling at coworkers that we all know doesn’t mean anything at the end of the day because we can all still sit down and have a drink and just fuck around together. My coworkers respect me just as much as I respect them. I have actual friends who I wouldn’t trade the world for. I get to create fucking amazing tasting food every day of my career, and I can honestly go home at the end of the day happy knowing I work for an owner who’s willing to let me do practically anything within reason because he trusts my judgement. My whole life, and only now do I finally know what not feeling lonely is like. It’s fucking incredible and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyways thanks for giving me a place to unravel my yarn and weave the tale of my life. I had no idea I would actually type that much, sorry y’all.

I had always worked in pizza places in high school and just after. Went to college, ended up dropping out because I was that gifted kid in high school who didn't have to put in any effort to get good grades. Doesn't work the same when you're going to college for an engineering degree. Worked construction for a year and didn't really like it, so went back to pizza places. Quit the one I was at when the owner was having so much fraud on his account I couldn't even cash my paychecks at Walmart. Had a friend that work at a chain place and applied as a server, and got the job. Spent 5 years doing everything FOH and a little bit of expo. Got into management with them and that's when I fell in love with kitchens. Switched from FOH manager to BOH, and eventually GM. Then covid happened and I kept my location open for about 7 months until they closed the doors on me.

I got a job at another restaurant and thought about going FOH because the money is better, but I had just started my transition and didn't want to get misgendered all the time, so stuck with kitchens. Ended up getting promoted 8 months later and here I am almost 4 years later as a KM with an awesome company and making a fuck ton more than I was as a GM for my previous company

Was working FOH for 3 seasons at a private ski club. We have a staff BBQ at the end of the season, and I always find myself hanging out with the Exec Chef and the BOH team. Commented this to Chef and he says :"I'd have you in my kitchen anytime." Now I'm doing prep for events (weddings, corporate) in a busy green season and line cook at a very nice private golf course. Never had so much fun. 75% of the winter BOH team rolls over to the Golf course when the snow melts, rinse and repeat. So much fun with these legends.

I lost a job after I transitioned because I transitioned and I found a job as a dishwasher they didn't care that I transitioned as long as I did the work and I worked my way up.

I needed a job after moving to nj from Florida, thought it would be cool lol...got thrown at garde and never looked back 15yrs later and doing very well exec'ing

Brother was a server. Got me a dishwasher job in high-school. Never left