December 9th, 2017
Dear Self,
What a wild, wild time to be alive. I did it. I bought the ticket, took the ride. And now it’s just me again, surrounded by my own thoughts, like it was before here, and like I knew it was going to be after. I’m good in solitude. It wasn’t always that way though. But I’ve had a confidence in myself relatively recently. Not just the confidence that I can and will do the things I want to do, but the confidence that I am who I am and that I trust who I am. I feel like once I was able to be comfortable and confident in my own thoughts I could kind of hang out with myself. I think the more someone is able to hang out with themselves the more they can develop as their own person. Of course there is a fine line there between hanging out with yourself too much and becoming weird. I’m not weird, am I? I’m definitely weird. But not too weird. Just the right amount of weird for me, and hopefully somebody else some day.
It’s hard to describe all the feelings I’m experiencing at the moment. From the highest of highs to the heartbreaking feeling at the end. Coming to Ballymaloe was absolutely everything to me. Everything. It was a fuck you to the status quo, the pursuit of a purpose, the pursuit of happiness. It was all of those things crammed in to 12 absolutely unforgettable weeks.
I said this before, but it feels good to feel. This crushing heartbreak has to happen organically. You can’t feel this way on purpose. And the only way that one can feel this sad is to preface it with equal happiness. This was and is the best time of my life for so many reasons. Gaining a professional proficiency in food was a dream that took years to materialize. Breaking free from a life path I knew wasn’t for me seemed unattainable. The future has so much potential. The future has so much unknown. What a wild, wild time to be alive.
December 11th, 2017
Fast forward a few days. The shock has worn off a bit. Pops, a long time family friend and I traveled around the country and I’m feeling better about everything. We’ve hit Cork, our ancestor’s castle at Three Castle Head on the southwestern tip of the country, Dingle and now I’m wrapping up this blog from our rental in Dublin. It’s the perfect transition. I’m excited about the future. I made coffee ice cream from scratch without a recipe, bombe method of course, since the rental house in Bantry didn’t have an ice cream machine.
I still miss everyone very much. The last days at school and days after felt like the last episode of Lost. It’s really weird seeing people outside of the Ballymaloe bubble. They’re home or travelling elsewhere, wearing something other than chefs whites or the same 6 or so clothes options we all packed. Some pockets of people are still traveling together for a bit. As of now the WhatsApp convos are still super active, I think because we all still need each other. It’s hard to talk and live and work together every day and then just not. But I can’t wait to see where people go next. There is so much talent that came out of this class. Couple that with the drive and dedication to success and I can see a few people doing big things. And I for one cannot wait to visit.
As far as I’m concerned? Well I can’t stay on permanent vacation. But I am homeless. And that affords flexibility. I remain firm that my old professional life is not an option. I do have my sights set on a food truck. Even if temporary, to say I freaking did it. I quit my decently/relatively well/whatever paying corporate job to work in a food truck. F*ck yeah. Then I suspect I’ll continue to take advantage of my homelessness and flexibility and try a few different things in the food world. I will definitely try a stint in a professional kitchen, perhaps a few. But it has to be ones with the right ethos. Ones striving for something great and unique. I could not imagine getting stuck in a bad culture of miserable people cooking the same things every night. That’s not why I went to school. The good news is that the right environments exist. And they’re full of people like me. I think. God I hope so.
A larger goal is to start my own recreational cooking school. Pasta 101 type stuff. Then the kitchen can be used for private functions, catering etc. It’d be kind of like Prestige Worldwide but with a real business plan. One that I’ll write while doing my solo travel. And that’s what’s next, soul searching through solo travel. First in South and Central America and then who knows. Back to where it all began, surrounded by my own thoughts, like it was before here, and like I knew it was going to be after.
Quick shout out again to everyone reading this and sending me nice words of support. I’ll continue to repeat that it means the world to me and fuels me to keep going and to keep recording it publicly. Here are some shots from the last days at Ballymaloe and me and Pop’s travels after.
Farewell Ballymaloe!