吃苦: No I'm Not Afraid

 Someone told me the other day that I am the kind of person people write books about.  There is no doubt there have been times, especially in Port Aransas, in which I can see that.  I have this lingering wonder what the name of my book would be called. "Blind Date" is what keeps coming to mind. Why? In 1984 I read a book, from the late 70s called Blind Date. The book was about a Russian who immigrated to the United States. The things that stood out in that book were the wild shifts in the main character's life, just like mine. 

A friend from Russia eventually makes it to New York and invites him to his humble little studio apartment for dinner.  Our main character notices that the recipe has an odd taste and inquires about what is in it.  "I found the Smiling Dog brand canned meat at the grocery store just like they have back home in Russia," says the host proudly. In the 1970s there was a brand of canned dog food called Strongheart, which featured a german Sheppard seemingly smiling.

At some point later they go out to a bar in the city.  They are speaking Russian at a table in the corner when a patron approaches and inquires about what language they are speaking.  His friend replies, "we are speaking Eskimo!" The patron steps up on the stage in front of the microphone and says, "I wonder if one of these gentlemen would be so kind as to say a few words in their beautiful Eskimo language for all of us?"

The friend walks up to the stage and then passionately swears a blue streak in Russian. The bar crowd is mesmerized until a man from the back of the bar who obviously understood Russian explodes in a fiery rage and chases the two men off the premises. 

I am not totally sure why I feel I identify with the main character who was not the person who cooked dog food and swears at innocent customers. But in many ways, my life has felt like a blind date. If anything, my life has been one endless improv. So why would I not be willing to step out into the unknown?  I am absolutely going to take those steps: LLC, catering license, food stand license.  You know it's worth it.

Holding one of those Asian cleavers makes me wonder if I should work out with small weights to condition muscles in the arms and hands, these things are really heavy. At my age, I do not have time to fool around with slow culinary programs.  I watch these CIA boot camp cadets handling spoons, bowls, and knives like they are taking a drag off a cigar they know will probably explode in their faces. They are so unstable. That is not me.  I am and have been for over 30 years the "act like you know" guy. I think I have done a pretty good job overall too.  "And so you see...That is, as they say, is that." Gosh! Who even wrote that line for Trek 4?  Acted out by Catherine Hicks.  I guess she did that as good as anyone ever could. I digress.

Most importantly, I earned my confidence in cooking.  Many a missed mark in texture, appearance, or flavor have been the building blocks to the successes. I have in effect 吃苦, known as Chi Ku. Translated means 'eat bitter" or "eating bitterness". It means to endure hardship with a good attitude and the wins will taste much sweeter. A Chinese "no pain no gain" if you will. But more so, to endure through the trials that you change the threshold. My favorite chef, (don't tell her I called her that) June Xie referenced this when talking about her father. She said that he suggested if you do not have enough 吃苦, your small challenge will make you feel broken.

It is a beautiful thought really. I would not trade the difficult times for anything, it is from them that I truly learn. I knew this all along, but I got to see the exploded view of this 4 years ago when the Crawford family from Bellvue, KY hiked the Appalachian trail with their 6 kids ages 2-16. All of the stereotypical "cautions" were inflicted upon them, which were hardships in themselves and I would dare say, far more injurious than any mountain, storm, or unfiltered water could ever be. It was that these children were not sheltered from every single thing their parents could anticipate. No, these are rare specimens of parents, yes, rogue copies that made it off the assembly line, not following "the mans" programming routines. They allowed their children to experience discomfort because that is where the learning truly happens.

OK, I get it. The 吃苦 is an intricate part of the journey. Burning steak, having pork belly not produce a beautiful crackling, having the hollandaise sauce never come together, yes no matter how much I stir it is separate ingredients spinning around in a bowl. So, getting licenses and insurance is also a part of this. Getting up in front of 165, 6, 300, or more people and serving them IS ALL THE SAME JOURNEY. It is 吃苦, and it is needed and required to be where I want to be. The bottom line is, that it is supposed to feel uncomfortable! I think about the difference between the first live cooking class and then the next. Amazing what a little shaking in your boots can do...Well socks, we don't wear shoes in the house.

I will not back down. I am still in the game. I am 吃苦.