The Great Chef

No day is a normal day for me, who labors daily over my forge. My materials taking many forms, my apparatus and tools giving birth to the aroma of food. I work for enjoyment, of self and consumer alike. There is no greater satisfaction and gratification greater than seeing one's creations appreciated and honored.

Look there across the street, that man with his stove, making pancakes for the people. A noble profession indeed, to provide. But one may delve deeper into the culinary craft, and see that he may further improve his pancakes by adding maple syrup, corn, honey, the sort. And yet, he has not done so; this be a hindrance to the progress of humanity towards mastery of the culinary world.

The pieces of meat, vegetables, dough, I rend are not my enemies, they are my friends. I slice them, I fry, bake, steam, broil, boil, braise, and perform many other procedures, so that they may go forth from my transforming forge and do service and pleasure to the world.

Why do I harm them?

Is it not the friend who assails you with bitter truth and tells you to change, to go forth, that you value the most in the end? Or is it the friend who lies to you and lets you rot in your raw state?!


I do not understand the street vendors who do not put their soul into their cooking.

I do not understand the hawkers, too many overzealous with seasoning and salt.

I do not understand the home bakers, who abuse sugar.

I despise those who look down upon my art; who claim to understand my science and yet do not really know.

I am a chef, all I do is create; the sight, the smell, the taste.

20th February 2011