San Antonio

As I go about the business of applying to The Culinary Institute Of America, much goes through my mind. Memories of my time at Northwest Arkansas Community College's culinary program, memories of my experiences in three years of owning my own dessert company, and even my experiences of working various low-level food service jobs, ironically all before I ever had any intention of seriously working in the industry. In addition to such rumination on the past, I also ruminate on the future. If I get in, what will it be like going off to college in my 30s, adjusting to living in San Antonio for two years, and putting my endurance and skills to the test every day at the best culinary school in the world? All these things swirl about in my mind, causing a heady mixture of anxiety and excitement. There's really never been a comparable experience in my entire life, but I must still endeavor to learn what I can from past experiences to accurately prognosticate, as best I can, just what the future may hold.

Past experiences tell me that culinary school will be difficult, but doable. Working at the campus diner taught me that sometimes my superiors will be difficult but also that I must find a way to work with them and even find a way to like what I can about them. IHOP taught me that food service people are down to Earth and that sweeping and mopping are inescapable parts of the industry. Being a concessions host at a cinema taught me that, no matter how daunting a technique may seem, sufficient practice will result in mastery. NWACC taught me that classmates may be more skilled than you and complete jerks, but you can't let it get in the way of doing what you came there to do. F.C.B. Desserts taught me that, even with as much stress as it caused me and how much money I lost, my passion for food is unbreakable. Above all, my past experiences taught me that food service is a business where you can't fake it. However clever you are, you can either cut it or you can't, which is both maddening and heartening.

What I expect, assuming I get to go, when I attend CIA would run along the following lines. I would get one of the apartments associated with the school. The only supplies I would bring are my loaded knife roll, my baking kit, two weeks of clothes, toiletries and prescriptions, my computer and printer, my phone and its various chargers, enough cookware to cook for myself, and my tobacco accessories. With no expectations of making friends, I would mostly go to school and my apartment. At school, I would do exactly as told and never quit. Either I leave with that degree or I die trying. During my time at NWACC, I think I slacked off too much and was willing to accept the generally lower standards on offer in certain areas. Our equipment didn't all work, our ingredients weren't always quality, and I thought I knew more than I did, all of which fed into not caring enough. By asking my father to pay for the world's best culinary education, I am asking a lot of him and I am obligated to ask at least as much of myself.

-Frank