Out of the Dark, and into the Spotlight

A kitchen is only defined by the people who breathe life into it.

Without them, only a shell of stainless steel remains.

On the morning of June 8th, at precisely 7:10am MST my first alarm went off. 

As is usual, I was not ready to start the day, and I reached over to push the snooze button. 

I saw on the lock screen a news bulletin, one that shook me and my industry to the core:

Anthony Bourdain had decided to end his life.

Now, weeks later, after countless media coverage, I want to share my feelings on this loss.

Years ago, long before I tripped into this career, I fell in love with his shows. I can still remember watching No Reservations in the tiny apartment a girlfriend of mine shared with college roommates. While she was off in class, I was getting lost in his travels, the food, and the people. His words, his demeanor, the way he embraced the corners and back alleys of the world captivated me. Even back then I lauded his approach on the industry, that behind the fancy cutlery, polished ceramic, nameless faces hurriedly cooked away to bring us to the table. 

A few months into culinary school I received one of his many cookbooks, Appetites: A Cookbook. I can still hear his voice in the recipes, his passion for food that would never get a star, see him tearing into the Sausage and Pepper Hero with savage glee. I took it everywhere, read it while I waited at a Mazda dealership for a repair, read it before bed. Not once could I have imagined that it's author was in so much pain. 

While I cannot put words in his mouth, which would be so disrespectful and absolutely wrong, I can relate to where he might have been. Inside the darkest depths of a mind, it is incredibly difficult to climb back out. 

Bourdain was an inspiration, to me, to countless others, and hopefully will be in more ways to come. His death has made me take a more focused look on myself, and on the industry as a whole. Before my journey began, I loved his brash approach to food. Full frontal, nothing held back, diving into what this world actually is. No cuts, no edits, no script. 

Kitchen life is fast, brutal, addicting. The high after a successful busy night is intoxicating, it pushes you to the edge of what you thought was possible, a balancing act on the literal edge of a blade, between the "perfect" experience and the dreaded return of a dish. I cannot get enough, and I have absolutely been there pushing beyond my own health for the pursuit of the dream.

Squid Ink pastry cone with salmon tartar at Matsuhisa Vail

I love this field, to create a memory from a few ingredients, there are few things I find more powerful. Great food is forged in memory; the smoked tomato puree bringing you back to spaghetti with Grandma; paw paw ice cream a reminder of frozen bananas during summer vacation. It is the epiphany of what we are losing today:

Human Connection.

I can't explain how hard it was to go home this time last year. The moment I stepped out of the kitchen, the reality that I was going home to a newly empty home would crush me. For too many nights I would drown my sorrows in drink, to quell the darkness that was growing inside. 

I finally had the amazing job, the one I had dreamed of for years, it was what I always wanted. A challenging yet creative field, the possibility for travel, always a solid meal, and a craft that would always come in handy. But behind closed doors I was miserable. The moment my feet crossed that door, I wanted to die. 

I had been awake nearly 50 hours in this photo of my last trip moving. I legitimately hallucinated on this last drive.

A newly emptied home waited for me night after night. A reminder of how much sacrifice it took to finally find the dream. Guilt. Sadness. Rage. Shame that I could be feeling so depressed, when I should be reveling that I found my passion, when so many people never get to work a job the love. It was isolating, I felt completely alone and helpless. It would be many months spiraling inward, exploding on those close to me, and isolating myself from everything that once made me happy.

I saw no end in my pain, no light on the horizon. Every time someone said that it would get better I wanted to punch them in the face. How could they possibly know? My pain was the only thing I had, and I refused to let it go. The fall down the well took months, yet eventually the bottom did appear.

I don't have an exact date when it happened, it wasn't like jumping into a lake where the water hit me all at once. It was more like waking up on a beach with the tide nudging me awake. Slowly I began to open my eyes and see that there was more around me than nights alone with a bottle of whiskey.

This journey has been long, even though it is only beginning. Even now I have moments where I slip, where my mind wanders into the forest, but now I can recognize when that moment comes along. Finally I can admit that it is okay to feel the loss, to be truthful about what it took to be here. I can see it in my past articles, see where I put up that mask and wrote how I should be feeling instead of what I was actually experiencing. The past made me who I am and I can only learn from it. 

We are but grains of sand awash in the ocean of the Universe.

A statement I made in the beginning, still rings true, maybe now more than ever:

It's not about me. It isn't about you. It is about Us.

It has been hard for me. It was incredibly hard for Anthony. There are millions more who feel the same. And they all have a voice. 

The vine is growing...

My work is just beginning, the mountain looms ahead, but so far the view has been amazing. The moment I stepped out of the trees, and was able to see the vista, that was when I realized I could smile after all. I know you can never read this, but your story has given me a reason to write, a reason to forge ahead. Because you are not alone, so many share your passion, your drive, and even your darkest fears. It is for them I do this, it is for you that I will grow and thrive.

Anthony Bourdain, you may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. Thank you for the life you gave me, the power of the voice, of the word. With it we will help inspire countless others, to help change the world.

From a seed, a field will grow.

For Tony.

A New Year. A Fresh Start. A New Beginning...

Life is a cycle, everything is connected. I finally got the Alex Atala circle for a tattoo. We have to start at the very beginning to create something beautiful, it doesn't happen overnight or in one moment. 

It is something we have to work on every day.

This journey has not been an easy one. For me, for those close to me, for the person I loved the most. The road has been filled with sharp corners, hidden obstacles, cracks, collisions, and pain. It has been a road of self discovery, and some of those discoveries haven't been pretty.

For years, if I give it a number it would be 6, I have been acutely stuck in my own head. Drawn in on things that were far beyond my control that upset me, and then my own inability to express how they made me feel. I promised that this blog would be an insight into not only the journey into the culinary world, but to provide insight into my journey, specifically what it was like for me to take these steps.

I broke my promise.

Words cannot express my sorrow at the actions I took in my own ironic attempt at self preservation. The irony lies in the fact that all these actions and inactions only hurt myself and those around me, they did nothing but prolong the sense of loss and fear of the future that I had.

I was never good at talking about my own feelings, especially my self-doubt and fear that I would never be good enough. It seems ridiculous to me now because I do enjoy writing, it is a passion that I have always had, and it took me until last month to be able to write again. Once I rediscovered the sense of relief this gives me, I have been on the way up. Today will be the first of many future posts. I have missed so much in the last year and I will NOT let that happen anymore.

Change happens in an instant. 
Yet only with time, change has a lasting effect.

Today is the beginning of a new day. The first words in a new story. I used to think that our story began years ago, when we were but kids. But now, after everything I've been through and seen, I finally realize that this is where it all began. I was afraid of the jump, selfish in my attempt to not hurt myself; but now I have no fear left. If you never jump, you can never move forward. When that fear hits you the hardest, take that leap into the unknown. Only there will you find what you seek.

You can just see Matsuhisa, on the bottom floor of the building on the left. A beautiful view of the ever changing skyline that is Cherry Creek.

People make food what it is.

One of our awesome pastry chefs at Matsuhisa Denver, Sid showing off his glazing skills.

For years I have forgotten what made me happy, what made me want to get out of bed and live; to smile and laugh, cry and converse: people. I've said it before, on here and in my other writings, I love The Story. What makes people do the things they do, where does this come from, what makes it special, what is it's purpose? In film, books, games, and now especially food, I want to know the story. The story behind the people that make it happen.

A perfect mirror glaze! What a gorgeous Bavarian!

Food is fun! There are so many people to get to that perfect plate on the table, not just the people we see, but so many along that way that put their lives into the most important industry we have. I love how unique and expansive this community is. The endless creativity it breeds.

Nobu's signature Jalepeno Scallop, as delicious as it is gorgeous!

As hard as my personal life has been, my time at Matsuhisa has been driven with the same burning passion. I LOVE it. The food, the people, it has literally kept me going this last year. Even as I get back into writing, I have hundreds of photos that will probably never make it on here. The food is incredible, beautiful, perfectly seasoned and sauced. Flavors and ingredients I never imagined, creating a symphony that never grows old. 

Sometimes that passion literally turns into a flame.... whoops!!!

The Umami Sea-bass is of my favorite dishes to cook and to eat. It's so tasty!

Only through great struggle do we find greatness in ourselves. As I began to realize my own faults and come to terms with my demons, I met new people and have created new friendships. I hope to repair and rebuild some too. I have done new things, things that have reminded me again and again why this has been what I've always wanted to do.

This past Sunday I got to attend a Jewish cooking class. It was so much fun! I can't believe I've been so stuck in my own tiny world that I didn't get out and do more things like this! Haha, honestly I was such and idiot! These foods are a staple of my heritage, something that goes back generations, and I haven't cooked them since I was a very small child. Feeling that sense of community, not only for delicious food, but of a heritage that strangers can come together with, was almost overwhelming. 

Absolutely a much better way to spend a Sunday morning, as much fun as re-watching Parks & Rec for the umpteenth time is... I cannot wait for the next one! 

My challah is better than yours, and it will bring everyone to my yard!

I can write all day, all night, and it will not even cover a moment of the time that has passed. It's 2018! My 10 year high school reunion is this year, aghhh!!! I will say it again and again, it's weird now being where I am, not being angry at the world and finally seeing how to move forward with who I am. It's probably been said too many times, yet the excitement and happiness are exploding out of me and I cannot contain it. 

Can you guess why these are called Sonic Mushrooms? 

(hint - what do those little spikes remind you of.... a hedgehog maybe...)

I am really excited to tell you everything, to show you all of the things that are to come. An excitement I haven't had in a year. These next posts might be a little crazy and all over the place as I begin to rebuild what made me a good person, a great friend, a genuine and loving guy. So please bear with me. I've debated going back through and reorganizing the post of old, because there are definitely things in there that I did when I was in pain. Things I said that I didn't actually mean or want, so we will see. I think they do serve an important piece in showing the journey, the evolution of this over time, but they also bring back some of that pain. Even writing about it now is something I might change, we shall see what time brings. 

In the meantime there are still many things to be done, bridges to rebuild, humble pie to eat. I will post more often. 

I bought this card at my go to paper shop Paper Source. 

I think it uniquely fits my life right now.

I saw that card yesterday and thought of you. So much about it fits into where I am. Writing, a cool design, and then the actual words. Now that I am kind of delving myself into Japanese culture, I thought it was really cool, I've always been interested in the Japanese art floor in the Denver Art Museum. I can remember multiple school trips where I lost hours staring away at the beautiful collections. I've actually seen that! 

It also fits into the meaning behind it. This last year has been very difficult, and I know it has also been really hard for you. So take this small token, fill your empty spaces with gold, not to replace them, but to become even more beautiful than you are right in this moment. Through pain and struggle, greatness will rise. You are incredible, unstoppable, beautiful, amazing. I love you more each day.

I know this post is a bit all over the place, but it is a perfect rendition and example of where my life is. Up and down, sideways constantly, but forever moving forward. This path has had me question everything, changed all my perspectives, and given me an insight that was not possible at every other moment in my past. I cannot stress enough how amazing it is though to finally understand how to build the life I always dreamed of. 

Change. Happiness. Joy. 

Love.

They all come from within.

Here's to the future, I cannot wait to share it with you!!!

As much as I want to post every day, I know it won't always be possible. Sometimes work is busy and I am beat by the time I get home, on those days I usually post to my Instagram instead. The handle is the same as this blog: @amountainchef. On top of Grapevine I am also working on a few culinary projects that I hope to shed more light on as they come to fruition. In a week Nobu, the chef himself is coming to Matsuhisa Denver! It will be so cool to get to meet him! Join us if you can!

Last but not least I want to post a bit of the music that has helped me get through the last few months, I do want to continue the Music Monday posts so if I can ever figure out how to actually embed YouTube on this other Google based page it will help... Why isn't there some tool in here... Anyways that all folks!