It has never been my goal to become a chef, but rather to
learn how to cook really well. The story
of my great grandmother cooking crawfish bisque for two days is a folk-like
memory stuck in my mind of an individual I am directly related to but have
never met. It is the bond of food which
allows an individual to talk with the past, and create the future. There are no shortcuts to great cuisine, and
there never have been, it is a combination of curiosity and drive which create
future cuisine to be passed to the next generation. After leaving New Orleans, I landed in Hilton
Head, South Carolina. My girlfriend at
the time was working for her father’s restaurant on the island and was pursuing
sommelier certification. It was at her
father’s house, where the book “The making of a chef: how to master heat at the CIA” made an
appearance. I read the book, and while
searching for something to do, realized I could learn at a place, argue with
the instructors (in a valid researched way), and travel cooking. It was in the environment of the May River,
amazing obscure French wines, and conversational family meals that solidified
me in the culinary profession. Having
grown up on great food, at the time, what I had known to be the best food in
the world, and then discovering the European aspect of dinning it was a smooth
transition in the pursuit of gastronomy.