The thin line between hiking and cooking

 I knew I should have prepped the cabbage last night. Instead of razor-thin shavings of bright green cabbage, I opened the cooler and there they were, two green bowling balls without the holes. But, hey, I am good with a knife. I am not stupid-fast, more like efficient. I got this.

My one-hour lunch excursion into the culinary burst of what I view Fight4Taste to mean could happen. Right? All along there was a song playing in the background, come on Gen-X sing it if you know it..."A THREE HOUR TOURRRRRRRR!"

Once the cabbage is shredded, it is evident I am in that episode of the Twilight Zone in which time is moving at 6 times its natural speed. I note to myself, that the next time my hands are clean, there is an important call that I need to make. I step off the curb to work on the rest of the build and then, I am again transported 37 minutes into the future.

If I were home, the projections meet the reality and simply translate into a hungry family eating later, a kitchen being cleaned later, going to bed later, and perpetual tiredness. All in the name of a fantastic meal. Oh, and the learning thingy. That part is moderate when you are in your own kitchen.

When I set foot in a public kitchen, I unpack and in short order, I set out to put something great to waiting diners, it is so different. Every unanticipated tactile experience burns the fingertips. It is like steering a very large lifeboat with oars that are the wrong size. I know I can do it, but my mind is spinning like a computer that is running models of every potential move, mapping out the best move to make next.

As I crossed the finish line, the signs of what I should have done differently jumped out at me like giant billboards that were brightly lit and could not be missed. It was then I thought, this reminds me of something.

When you get to fill a backpack with everything you think you need, for an overnight backpacking trip after what feels like years of study, you think you have anticipated everything. There is no way that there could be a great need for something you did not think of. But, the black forest at night declares its dominance and declares otherwise. It is then, that you are small. You are disadvantaged. Most importantly, you are learning, and absorbing lessons with a porousness like you have never known.

Cooking for others in a public kitchen is just like that. What I can absorb is incredible. It actually amazes me. It makes sense that I love the pressure of it because in doing so my eyes are wide open. There is no safety net, just me and the finish line, period.