“So you’d have staples, but you’d apply your wide culinary knowledge to putting a spin on old classics, basically,” Brad said.
“Sure. And again, there are some things the masses want to see on the menu, and you include a few options for various diets. Put some vegan options on the menu, some gluten-free options. But don’t just put a salad or a vegan burger on there; figure out how to make something tasty that happens to be vegan.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have.”
“Then why did you stop cooking?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? “Part of it was what we’ve talked about. I left school and couldn’t quite find a place that fit me. There weren’t a ton of jobs available, so I was working as a line cook, figuring I’d pay my dues and work my way up. But I hated the drudgery of firing the same dishes over and over.”
“Where were you working?”
“An upscale pub off Times Square. We made a lot of meals for tourists, so it had to be kind of bland and predictable. There was no creativity involved. Zillions of burgers and grilled chicken sandwiches because those were the cheapest things on the menu.”
“Sure.”
“I hated it. I hated coming home smelling like grease. I hated that I had to follow the executive chef’s recipes, because he had some weird ideas about seasoning. So that was part of it.”
“Everyone has to pay their dues.”
“Yeah, sure, Milk Bar.”
“I was making another chef’s recipes there, too. It wasn’t that different.”
Lindsay sighed. The truth was that she’d stopped dreaming after she broke up with Brad. The whole point of that plan had been to open the place together. And she hadn’t seen much value in paying her dues at a job that genuinely made her miserable if she wasn’t going to open that dream restaurant. The future she’d planned for herself had evaporated. So she’d carved out a new niche for herself.
She’d blamed Brad for that for a long time, because she hadn’t been able to face her own failings. But, of course, it hadn’t been Brad who had ended their relationship, and it hadn’t been Brad who had made her slave away in a hot kitchen she hated, and it hadn’t been Brad who’d quit cooking.
No, she’d sabotaged herself. She’d been so afraid of risking her heart that she hadn’t opened herself up to possibilities. Brad had opened her up just enough to let her dream, but she’d never invited him into her soul, not all the way.
But in the time that Brad had come back into her life recently, she’d started to dream again. And she understood now that she had to let him in all the way or this wasn’t worth doing. Anything less than that would just lead them back to heartache.
She wasn’t ready to say all that aloud, so she said, “I just didn’t feel the same joy for cooking that I had in culinary school. So I decided to do something else.”
“Okay.”
“I was just curious if you had any ideas for how you wanted your career to go now.”
Brad took a deep breath and lay on his back. “I guess I figured I’d work at the cat café another year or two. Probably stay on as executive pastry chef but in more of a consultant role while I baked somewhere else. I don’t know if I see myself in my own place, but I’d love to work in a restaurant where I had free rein over the dessert menu.”
“Okay. Just curious.”
“Are you going to stay a food editor?”
“For now. I really like this job. But theForumis hanging on by a thread financially, so I don’t know how long I’ll have it.”
“You think you’ll ever cook again?”
Cooking for her friends always reminded her how much she loved to cook. So, yeah, she wanted to cook in a restaurant again. She wanted to create recipes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that dream until she started thinking about it again. How she cooked, she wasn’t sure yet. Should she go back to a restaurant? Should she just make a YouTube channel?
She petted Fred Astaire and said, “I might cook again. But I’d probably have to start over if I went back into the industry. I haven’t cooked in a restaurant in four years.”
“Maybe,” said Brad. “I dunno. I worked with a guy two jobs ago who was a great chef but didn’t even go to culinary school. Working in restaurants seems to be half talent and half who you know.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m just saying. And if you opened your own place, there are no rules.”
