I was about six years old when I received my first cookbook. I enjoyed cooking from it and helping my mother with dinner. I made delicious desserts to take to youth group. At sixteen I filled in as a cook for the daycare I worked at and created gourmet meals for the little ones. I have always devoured food and wine magazines, watched every Martha Stewart episode, and never miss a good foodie movie. Even as a vegan I read carefully how to make chorizo. I won a national cooking contest through Frey Vineyards and have written four cookbooks. Yet, it still surprised me (and my husband) that I would want to go to culinary school. I have never even worked in a restaurant before! (I assume three weeks at Taco Bell doesn’t count.) And yet, as I look forward to the second half of my life, it sounds like a very intriguing possibility.
I applied for the Culinary Program at a college an hour away. I excitedly read the class offerings; knife skills, sauces, sustainable cooking, wine and spirits….
It didn’t take long for me to start doubting the whole thing. What if I don’t get any financial aid? (I simply cannot take out another student loan!) I want to spend time with my daughter and granddaughters at the store when they are there working, when will I go to school? What if I have to drive at night? My goodness, it sure didn’t take long for me to stand in my own way, did it?
I believe I will stop sabotaging myself and see how it all unfolds. What’s the worst that can happen?
Whispered ideas and passions in your ear, what do you want to learn, create, do? Follow that! Life is waiting!