Hey Y'all 

I was born and raised in Arkansas (The state to the right of Texas) and spent 97.4% of my first 24 years of my life there. Yes, some real changes happened at 24, but let’s start from the beginning.

As I grew older, say around teen years sports became a huge part of my life. Trying to obtain an edge, I was intrigued by nutrition. I can remember being 13 years old and giving up sodas because I thought they were “bad” for me. While that was probably good for my health, it started a snowball effect where I began to obsess more and more about body image and eating “healthy”. Before I knew it I was only eating chicken, brown rice, and broccoli for 90% of my meals, and weighing everything to the gram that I ate.

But it was more than just wanting to be more physically fit. I was a little bigger when I was younger; which made me terrified to be overweight. Knowing the harassing and bullying I received from my younger years drove me to never want to be like that again.

This continued, way past my teens until after college. I spiraled into a lifestyle I thought I was suppose to live, instead of living the life I wanted to live. I didn’t know, I was young and easily made to believe I was suppose to be something perfect. Someone who everybody thought I should be, instead of following my own heart.

Missing social gatherings with friends and loved ones because I had meals to eat, or couldn’t eat the food there.

This behavior continued until I was 24 years old. It kills me to think of all the relationships, memories, and experiences I destroyed.  Most of all, it hurts knowing I did this all out of selfishness. 

Still to this day, I can’t help but wish there were so many things I would have done differently.

But then again, who really knows, maybe I wouldn’t be so grateful for where I am today, if it wasn’t for all those years of being lost.

Well, a lot.

Later that year, I was working three jobs at the time and preparing to take the MCAT to get into Medical school.

I was living an unsustainable life. Working 7 days a week, studying, volunteering, and whatever else I could throw on my plate.

The main problem? I didn’t truly love anything I was doing.

Ever since the passing of my Grandmother in 2014, I had begun feeling nostalgic as we had to clean her home of all her things. I was vividly remembering all these happy times with her in the kitchen. Finally, I started to fade from my fitness obsessed phase. I had begun to realize, I was living a life I didn’t want. I was once again, intrigued by food. 

Still later in the year, I landed a job at Whole Foods because they needed someone for weekend nights and I felt like I need to do something with my time.

If you ever have heard the story about how Blue Cheese was invented I promise you this was that same sort of fate, just without the drunk cheese maker.

I initially started working as a cashier, yet had my eye on an opening at the cheese counter. After around 3 months, I was able to take an open spot.

On of my co-workers, Jim, an older man, that I couldn’t describe any better than a Santa Clause looking fella and I were always paired on weekend nights. He was originally from Louisiana and worked every odd job in the food business.

Jim taught me so much. Not only about food, but what food means. Jim is one of the most passionate people I know who is able to connect food and people. I learned so much from him and still remember the things he taught me to this day. 

At this point, I was tinkering with the idea of going to culinary school. The problem with me? I’m either going to try and be the best there ever was, or not do it at all.

So I booked a ticket to New York City. I mean where else better to go to Culinary school at that time than the food capital of the USA.

So I went to New York City for a week, but really, I went to NYC Chinatown for a week. The only time I left was to crash on my buddies living room floor and to have a tour of the campus of International Culinary Center.

I remember the first time walking into the Chinatown. I don’t know even how to explain how I felt. It was a mixture of awe, happiness, sadness, and feeling as I was home.

Fast forward to my last day in NYC. I remember being in Tai Pan Bakery getting a few baked goods and I sitting down inside. As I was eating my pineapple bun, I was flooded with my past week in NYC. While the culinary school left something to be desired. It was the item on the menu that you think is going to be the show stopper only to be left disappointed.  How could I pay so much money to be trained then thrown into a profession that has a 95% fail rate or higher? It’s not that I didn’t believe in myself but I am also a calculated person. I knew the odds weren’t in my favor. And just as soon as I was making my way to the middle of a warm soft pineapple bun with the butter slightly melted in the middle. It hit me, even if I did make it in the restaurant industry, I would be away from the part of the world that had brought me so much joy in such a little time.

I returned back to Arkansas, to the farm, with my parents. Knowing now, my home was half way across the world.

This is what I truly love doing. 

After having a life absorbed around me. It was not until I experienced life a different way. Met people from different places and lived in what I would label as “strange” places, did I really begin to realize, I had it all wrong. These things, customs, foods, etc aren’t strange, they are just something I never knew. And as I learn more about people, culture, and food, do I truly begin to learn who I am.

Before I was always so self absorbed and worried about myself when the irony is, I didn’t start learning who I really was, until I had begun learning about others.