Truth Be Known

Last week, I had the honor of presenting at Catersource, which is right in my hometown. Two of my buddies flew in to present as well, and every night, it was the same question:

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”

One night, it was “Let’s go on a boat!” That’s how I met Captain Mark—a helluva dude! For the first time, I saw my hometown through the eyes of a tourist. The streets, the stories, the places I’d passed by for years…they felt different.

Then, someone asked, “Hey, what’s going on with the YouTube channel?”

And just like that, it happened.

“What are we doing today?”

I paused. Then the words came out before I could think—“Want to see where my story almost ended?”

(Okay, let’s be honest—I cleaned that up. What I actually said was, “Want to see where I almost killed myself?”)

If this is your first time reading my blog, let me introduce myself.

I’m Jeffrey Schlissel. At 18 years old, I almost drove my car into the bay to drown myself.

I spent two years in therapy after that. But here’s the part I haven’t always discussed: I still thought about it for those two years. I wondered what cold steel would taste like.

Then, in 2018, Chef Anthony Bourdain ended his story.

And I saw too much of myself in him.

That moment lit a fire inside me. If I could tell my story and help just one person feel less alone, it would be worth it. So, I wrote my book: Craveable Obsessed: Journals of a Food Addicted Chef.

And last week, I found myself standing at the place where my story almost ended—36 years later.

There’s some irony in that number.

In Judaism, 18 represents life.

When I was 18, I wanted to end mine.

Now, 36 years later—double life—I stand here, still breathing.

I released a teaser about this moment on social media, and the response has been overwhelming. People reached out.People who had been there. People who needed to hear it.

Walking back to that spot after more than 20 years was surreal. Because I am not the same person who stood there 36 years ago. My abuser is gone—he ended his journey eight years ago. But the loop in my head? That tape that used to be his voice?

It’s not him anymore.

It’s me.

(Read that again.)

IT’S. ME.

Was I nervous filming there? No.
Was I afraid I’d lose my shit on camera? No.

What you see (or will see) is raw. Unfiltered. Just a guy who is trying to be the best version of himself.

I was telling someone about my memory of that night—the way I see it play out like a movie. I was back in that car, staring out at the water. I could smell the air from that night. I could feel it. And yeah, I started to tear up.

But you know what brought me back?

The people who were there. The people who hugged me when they saw it happening.

Talking about this now doesn’t hurt—not in the way you might think.

It doesn’t make me want to die.

It makes me want to live.

If I was given a second chance, I refuse to waste it. If I can help others, then #justonelife.

Bullets

According to Unbabel, the most complex languages to learn are Mandarin, Arabic, Japanese, and many more. I disagree. Communication itself is the most complicated language to master.

The English alphabet has twenty-six letters; we can all agree on that. Those twenty-six letters combine to become some of the most potent weapons known to man. They hold more energy and power than all the nuclear arsenals worldwide. Think about it: those same twenty-six letters can be arranged to destroy a person and lift them higher in the next breath than they’ve ever been.

As children, our race wasn’t about schooling. It wasn’t about learning everything we could or being the best at this or that. Our race was to become adults. We used to say, “When I grow up, I am going to…” Then we did grow up. And now, as adults, there are more memes than ever about not wanting to be adults anymore. But such is life! According to Monash University, the phrase “such is life” may have been Ned Kelly’s last words before he was hanged. The Cambridge Dictionary states it may have originated from the Latin Sic vita est hominum. Who would have thought you’d be learning that today?

Words cannot kill, but they can inflict a pain so deep that someone may want to die. Those twenty-six letters can ignite emotions that cause people to lose themselves, to spiral out of control. Words can be arranged like bullets, shattering a heart into millions of pieces. The wounds left behind by careless words can create a darkness like no other. And yet, those same letters—rearranged—can lift, heal, and support someone at their lowest.

On my journey to being the best version of myself, I have learned to process what is said to me. This practice gives my mind time to think and lets my emotions flow through me so that I can find the correct response. I realize that setting boundaries is essential to mental health. We have the ability to make our points without destroying the other person. It is not about winning; it is about being happy. Read that again: It is about being happy.

Trust me, I have my share of days when I don’t feel like adulting. Anyone who is an entrepreneur knows that feeling all too well. There are days when every front of life feels like a losing battle—the sense of collapse, loneliness, and the fear that everything you love is fading. You think, I know so many people—surely, they’ll come try my food! Or this is so different; everyone will want to experience it! You constantly ensure you have enough gigs lined up to stay afloat, but financial survival isn’t the only reason we do what we do. Once in a while, you create something for someone, and their response reminds you why you started in the first place. They use those twenty-six letters to lift you.

Ultimately, life would be better if we used what we have more wisely. We have two ears and one mouth—it’s time to use them proportionately. How much better would our world be if we spoke with empathy first? If we asked ourselves how we would react if someone said this to our child, how different would our conversations be before speaking? There’s a saying in the restaurant industry: If you wouldn’t serve it to your mother, don’t serve it to a guest. Why don’t we apply the same standard to our words? If you wouldn’t say it to someone you love, why say it at all?

The next time you have a difficult conversation, remember this: the words you load into your mouth can never be taken back. You have the power to destroy someone—or to lift them. Choose wisely.

Sunshine State Secrets: Unraveling Florida's Culinary Quirks & Conundrums!

I have to admit that, growing up in Florida, I never had that sense of "my home!" What do I mean by that? Simple, When people move from New York, for instance, they are diehard New Yorkers! When I traveled, I never thought saying I was from Florida was hip or Kool. I was actually embarrassed to tell people that I was from Florida. I mean, come on, zombie bath soap face-eating people! How about those "hangers" or "chads" from that election? What about all those "Florida man...did this" in the news? 

As a chef, I have always wondered what Florida is known for besides the BSC! Hear me before you start blasting your emails about what is genuinely Florida. If I say cheese steak, what city instantly comes to mind? If I had to say deep-dish pizza, what city or cities would you say? Last one, how about redfish being blackened? I have always struggled to determine what Florida is known for regarding cuisine. Are we known for Key Lime Pie? Hell, do we even grow Key Limes in the State? If you do a Google search, you will find the University of Florida chimes in on the topic, which is quite eye-opening. "The Key lime was carried by the Arabs across North Africa into Spain and Portugal and was brought to the Americas by Spanish and Portuguese explorers in the early part of the sixteenth century (Ziegler and Wolfe 1961). The lime became naturalized throughout the Caribbean, the east coast of Mexico, Central America, tropical areas of South America, and the Florida Keys. Commercial production in Florida in Orange and Lake Counties was evident by 1883. Later, small commercial plantings occurred in the Florida Keys (~1913 to 1926) and Miami-Dade County (1970s to early 2000s). Today, there is little to no commercial Key lime production in Florida, although it remains a popular home landscape fruit tree.

Key limes are grown in warm subtropical and tropical regions. Major producing countries are India, Mexico, Egypt, and various countries in the West Indies." According to the website https://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/publication/CH092#. So, Key Limes was brought here rather than from Florida. Our quest marches forward. We are a peninsula surrounded by three sides of water. Our climate varies from Key West in the south and the Panhandle to the North. After living in this State for over fifty years, I discovered we have a peach season. Mind you, the peach season is as long as a brain fart. 

I narrowed down my search on Google. I typed, "What is Florida cuisine?" and found a blogger with the answer. According to https://www.tastingtable.com/1218051/iconic-florida-foods-you-need-to-try/, here is what Florida cuisine is. Number one is Key lime pie - um, Key Limes are not even grown in Florida! Number two is the Cuban sandwich. Call me crazy, but the name states CUBAN, not FLORIDIAN. Number three, Stone Crab Claws, okay from Miami, used to be dirty food back in the day. Apalachicola Oysters comes in at number four. As a Floridian and a chef, I stay away from these guys as our waters are not the cleanest—number five lists pink shrimp as a Florida shrimp. I have to dive deep into this one.

Vannamei are a type of shrimp. They come from Indonesia and are, for me, flavorless. Pink Shrimp or Brown shrimp are "shrimpy" in flavor, and Florida is known for peel-and-eat shrimp loaded with butter and cajun spice. How does that make it Floridian cuisine? Fried Grouper sandwich or, as we know it, Grouper Rueben. It can be fried or grilled. The fish is commonly served on grilled rye bread with cole slaw, Swiss cheese, and Thousand Island dressing. It is a swap-out sandwich. Take the sauerkraut from the OG Rueben and the corned beef, add the grouper and the slaw, and there you have it. How is that Floridian Cuisine? Sour Orange Pie comes in at number seven.

Let me know if you are from Florida and your grandmother made this pie. I have never heard of or seen this pie before! Now that I live on the West Coast, this is a Tarpon Springs thing, not a Florida thing, a Greek Salad with potato salad. Yes, there is a story of why, but I still don't understand it. The next one is a Manhattan Clam Chowder, not Minorcan Clam Chowder. This chowder is from St. Augustine, Florida, and adds the Datil pepper to it. It also comes from the Spanish colonization of Florida, so is it truly Florida? The Pan con Minuta - the fried fish sandwich, comes in at ten. Is this Florida cuisine?

Rum cake and conch fritters are next. Let me say that these two are NOT Florida at all! Fried gator bites, okay, maybe, but can't you get a gator Po boy in Nawlins? Rounding the bottom of this article, I am researching the following: The Frita Cubana, Guava Pastelito, Ceviche, and Dole Whip (what the hell is that). Let's take the last one because it is funny. Dole partnered with Disney in the 70s and developed this iconic drink for...wait for it, the tiki bar at, you guessed it, Disney Land. Wait, if my memory serves me correctly, Disney Land is in California, and Disney World is in Florida; how does that...

If you type in "What is Florida cuisine?" the first thing that pops up is a Wikipedia definition. It states, "Floribbean cuisine is a fusion cuisine found in Florida. It is influenced by Caribbean cuisine, Cuban cuisine, Jamaican cuisine, Puerto Rican cuisine, Haitian cuisine, and Bahamian cuisine." Growing up, I was blinded by the notion that my State had nothing to offer. I felt that my State provided nothing to the culinary world. If you think about where you would want to go on a culinary journey, is Florida one of the places you want to eat? It wasn't until recently that I figured out what the cuisine of my great State is. There is not one definitive answer that anyone can come up with. What I love about the cuisine of my State is that there is no clear-cut definition of our cuisine. Florida is a state that is transient at best. We have had such an influx of people from so many cultures that they have defined Florida cuisine.

When Florida was being developed and the railroad was being built, we had an influx of slave labor, and with that came some incredible cuisines. Throughout Florida's rich history, we have had so many culinary defining moments, and I lived through one of the biggest and was so fortunate to be a part of it. The year was 1981. The Iran Contra thing was in full swing. Cocaine was also a hot import, and Cuba opened its prisons, and people came by the thousands. I remember being a teenager and seeing the tent cities under the 836 and the 826. When people ask where I am from, I always say, "North Cuba! AKA Miami!" 

To me, Florida is a true melting pot of the world. There is no Chinatown or Little Korea. We have parts of Florida known for a particular influx of people. Take Carol City or Overtown, known for its Haitian population. Southwest 8th Street in Miami is known as Little Havana. Every year, the US celebrates Latin Heritage Month from September 15th to October 15th. I get to celebrate it every day. 

Today, I embrace the influx of cuisines and cultures to Florida. I find that ethnic cuisine is full of flavor and taste-bud-blowing. Chef Anthony Bourdin said best: "When someone cooks for you, they say something about themselves. They tell you who they are, where they come from, what makes them happy."  I genuinely believe this to be so true. When you eat at a restaurant specializing in their country's cuisine, embrace what they cook for you. We should never have a cuisine assimilate itself so much that it loses its origin. The reason why we travel is to try new things and see unique places that we have just read about. Why should we eat American food in Paris? As Americans, we have this notion that we know what a country is known for by its cuisine.

Is that true? Take, for instance, the national dish of Jamaica. Is it Jerk? Nope, not at all. Ask someone from Jamaica, and they will tell you. We have chefs like Michelle Brienstein, who comes from a Cuban-Jewish background, and she has given us Jewban cuisine. Locally, we have Chef Norman Van Aken/Chef Allen Susser, who created "Floribbean cuisine." Floribbean cooking takes cuisine from the Caribbean/South America/Central America/ West Africa. It combines the natural resources of the land and the techniques they have learned from other cultures to create these excellent flavor meals we see today. One of the most American cooking styles is from a little island in the Caribbean. The Taino are indigenous to Puerto Rico and developed a cooking method called Barbacoa, which is not the beef cut but the actual cooking method. The word later became the word we know today as Barbecue or BBQ. Some great, talented chefs have embraced this cuisine and are doing things that would excite your taste buds into a frenzy! How about a guava and cheese rugelach? How about Latin spiced pink shrimp/ Florida fresh corn grits/Florida goat cheese/blistered Florida tomatoes? Have you ever wondered how Jerked Cantonese duck would taste? Well, in Miami, you could find that. 

In honor of Latin Heritage Month, we all should embrace the authentic cuisine of Latin America and try something so different that you may find something you love. We may not have the Philly cheese steak, the NY pizza, or the cheesecake, but we have so much flavor that the rest of the country has never had or will have. It is time that Florida makes its mark as a culinary Mecca!

My Culinary Journey - I surround myself with people who have been treated negatively yet still have a positive mind!

Yes, I know we are in the middle of a Pandemic. But, right now, in the US, we have an epidemic going on. It is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. Today, September 10th, is International Suicide Prevention Day, and that is why I am so passionate about this subject. It is a part of who I am. In 1988, I was eighteen years old. I can remember this like it was yesterday. I was standing in the kitchen, and my father was arguing with me about the SATs and school. He repeatedly told me that I would account for nothing. I would be nothing. Basically, I was being told that I was a piece of shit. Later that night, after work, I did not drive home but to a local marina. I went there with the intent to end it.

I was going to show my father. I was going to put myself through hell to make sure I stuck it to him! I was going to drive my car into the intercoastal—death by drowning. It happened as the car went down the ramp, and the water began to enter the car. I had this image pop into my head. It was my grandfather. He was going through kidney cancer, and if I did this, I would kill him. I slammed my brakes just in time. The back end started to float a little. I began to panic a little. The car's rear wheels grabbed, and I was able to back up. I did not want my grandfather's death on my soul.

In 2018, I told an abbreviated version of that story, never how I was going to do it. In fact, I have never told that story. I never told the therapist, not even my parents. I just told them I tried. There is a correlation with that year; Chef Anthony Bourdain completed suicide. 

I have been reflecting on why I haven't spoken about it. It is not like I haven't had some hard times since then. Back in 2003, my ex-father-in-law completed suicide. It was his third attempt. Ironically enough, I found out some interesting stuff about my family at that time. You see, one side of my family was asking in-depth questions. The other side was more silent. I found out that the quiet side had not one but two relatives who committed suicide. We lost my Great Uncle and great-grandmother to suicide. I was always told stories about my uncle and how he saved lives. He was a Dr. I did not learn the truth about his death until I was thirty-three.

I feel more compelled to speak outwardly about mental health because of Chef Bourdain. Here is the quintessential thing about Chef: he was the most extraordinary culinary storyteller of our time. He brought people from different backgrounds and used a common denominator to find something to start a conversation. Food was that denominator. Chef taught us and taught me the power food has. Think about this: whenever some great event happens in history, I bet it was over great food. Chef had everything except peace from his demons. We, chefs, looked at Chef as one of us. We let him into our home to listen, to watch. He was like a buddy we would hang out with every week. To this day, his death affects me more than my father's death. I forgive my father for the way I let him treat me as a child. You read that right. Forgiving is power, and I forgive myself for beating myself up. In essence, Chef Bourdain lit a spark under my ass to tell my story. His death may be his most extraordinary story yet. His last story, his death, started a movement about mental health, one that has now spread to many. Think about this: his gift would be to save so many lives. We now have to start the conversation.

Today, September 10th marks International Suicide Prevention. Today, at your family meals, tell a story. Hell, tell mine. Let your staff know it's okay not to be okay. Have this open conversation with your team. Mental health needs to be talked about like any other medical condition.

If real men can eat quiche, then real men can express their emotions. Sharing Our Stories will help chefs and others. It is just about starting the conversation.  

Hello, I am Jeffrey Schlissel, and I almost took my life at the age of eighteen. I am grateful that I am here to tell my story. I have and still am making a wonderful life not just for my family but for others. Those others need to know they are not alone. You are not the only ones to have ever thought this way. You are not a coward for feeling this way. No, you are not insane. You need to express yourself to someone who can help. The reason you think this way is because of how society dedicates MENTAL HEALTH. The perception that culture has currently is what we need to change. "It's okay not to be okay." should be the new norm.

Those of us who have attempted are like the Phoenix. We are alive once more from the ashes of our old life to the fire of this new one.

Life has several ups and downs. It is how we recover from the downs that are our wins. Funny thing, we never have to recover from a win!

Whining Kitchen Aide

So, you want to become a chef? You love the idea of being creative and working with food. You follow the who’s who of the culinary world along with social media influencers. You read about food, clip recipes to try, and have even developed your own menu for when you open a restaurant. But here’s the biggest question: Why?

This is the most crucial WHY of your life, as it will dictate how your life unfolds. Those celebrity chefs you follow—are the .00001% of what it takes to become a chef. Each one of those chefs did whatever it took to reach that level. Their path is irrelevant to you. Your path is your own! The social media influencers you admire—they carved out their own niche. You need to create your own unique brand.

As you continue reading, we will explore why. But first, some legitimate questions. Who am I? I am no one of particular importance. I have been a culinarian for over forty years. I am simply a guide presenting what it truly means to be a chef. My words may anger some, and I might omit things others are passionate about, but ultimately, YOU must decide your WHY.

The restaurant failure rate is alarming: one out of three will close within the first three years. When I was in culinary school, they told us that 98% would close in the first year. Maybe they didn’t believe in their WHY. We chefs wear multiple hats throughout the day. What kind of hats, you ask? Quality control, accountant, line cook, purchasing agent, receiver, loss prevention, advertiser, marketer, a form of HR, hiring manager, enforcer, firefighter, life coach, motivator, therapist, teacher, mentor, mentee, delivery person, caterer—the list goes on. Our hat rack is quite full.

These roles can be taught as you learn to cook and progress to the next level. What cannot be taught but must be realized is the toll this business takes on you—both physically and mentally. The abuse you endure to get to your WHY. If you are okay with the verbal and physical abuse, then let’s move on. Do you value your family unit? Do you enjoy spending time with friends? Do you cherish free time and holidays with loved ones? Do you like hanging out on a Friday or Saturday night? If you answered yes to any of these, best of luck to you—this industry is not for you. The glamorous life of a celebrity chef or social influencer is just that: their glamorous life. You are just an infant in this industry; you need guidance and mentorship. Finding the right Chef to mentor you is another challenge. Chefs have egos, and when we see potential, we try to enhance it and work with that person, but only if they are willing to endure what it takes.

One thing we cannot teach is passion. Many cookbooks talk about ingredients and how they make the dish, but you will never cook that dish as well as the author. Passion is the most powerful ingredient in a chef’s knife roll. I always ask potential cooks three questions: What is your go-to comfort food when you’re sick? If you were to cook for me, what meal would it be and why? And tell me about your last craveable meal and why it was so memorable. Lastly, I ask them to cook an egg over easy. Why? Because an egg is the hardest food to cook perfectly. Try it—make an egg over easy without gadgets to flip it, and don’t break the yolk. What about the perfect poached egg? I could go on forever about eggs.

If, after all that, you still want to sign up, I have more to offer.

At this point in my career, I look back and realize there are more past memories than future ones. Follow me here. I am 53 years old; the time I have ahead is not as long as the time behind. I have an unknown variable—I don’t know when I will stop or have to. At my age, I must prove to myself that I still have IT, whatever IT is. Yes, we all grow old, but chefs are cut differently. At a certain age, you look at that whining kitchen aide and think, how much more can you take? I make it a point to move with intent and execute my food in the quickest and most craveable way. For many, growing old sucks, but for a chef, realizing that their time is winding down is a true sign of strength. You also have to maximize what is still left in you. I guess I need to oil my kitchen aide because I am just getting started. I look back at all the seasoning I went through to become the chef I am today—it’s been a crazy, fucked-up journey, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I am a chef because I constantly strive to create the most craveable meals for people. I am a chef because of my passion for food and the joy people find in my creations.

After reading all this, if you still want to become a chef, I wish you the best of luck. Always remember who YOU are, and never let anyone, any place, or anything take that away from you. Seek like-minded people, build your support group because you will question yourself every damn day! I hope when you are 53, you can look back and say, “I still have the passion for this crazy, fucked-up game. I will stay on this ride as long as they let me!”

Defcon MidLife

Today's therapy session left me marinating in a funk that just won't shake loose. It's as if I've been stirring negativity in my mind like a chef repeatedly botching a lobster consommé. I've come to realize that I march to the beat of a different drum, a tune distinct from that of my father. While I usually possess an abundance of patience, today it seems to have taken a vacation.

Instead of delving into the dark voids within me, a path no one desires to tread, I've made a conscious choice to seek out the light. Every tale has its consequences, every action and its reactions. I've opted to respond in a manner that resonates with positivity, or as a dear friend would say, with some good ol' "ju ju." Today marked the rekindling of my therapy journey, a victory in itself. I bravely acknowledged my unsettling mental state instead of bottling it up, akin to a pressure cooker with a tightly sealed valve. I faced the shadows and embraced the light. These may seem like small victories, but they embody the essence of a healthy mental outlook. Recognizing self-sabotage and steering clear of it is perhaps the grandest victory of all.

I have never taken the time to sit and truly reflect on the events of the past three years of my life. It never occurred to me the weight I have been carrying. The tumultuous waves of emotions, crashing incessantly into my soul like the relentless pounding of the ocean against a seawall. It's rather amusing how, as I pause to gather my thoughts before typing, one idea leads to another, reminiscent of a bustling Saturday night at downtown Disney. I observe these thoughts as they come, swiftly assessing what needs my attention, much like a chef scanning a busy kitchen to ensure everything is in order and cooking smoothly. Slowly, I begin to see a glimmer of light at the end of the chaos—I am emerging from the weeds. I see life unfolding before me! Despite enduring some truly challenging experiences, they have shaped me into the person I am today.

A thought suddenly crosses my mind: "God only gives us what he knows we can handle." While this is a familiar adage, I find myself questioning its accuracy. Is it not true that every cook, every individual, needs a push to reach their full potential? Were all those cooks the same, eagerly seizing every opportunity presented to them? Some may require that extra nudge, a reminder of their own capabilities. Reflecting on this, I realize how crucial it is to step out of our comfort zones to grow and evolve. Perhaps encountering challenges that seem insurmountable teaches us valuable lessons in resilience and adaptation. Another saying comes to mind: "Sweating is pain leaving the body." Well, I must be shedding quite a bit of pain, given the amount I perspire!

Some may label this phase as a mid-life crisis, but what does that even entail? Is it a convenient excuse for aging men to indulge in folly and have it deemed acceptable? Right now, I contemplate the fuel left in my tank, the legacy I wish to leave for my child, and the imprint I hope to make on this earth. A new sports car won't resolve my quandaries; instead, my focus lies on my journey and the person I am destined to become. The uncharted territory ahead may be daunting, yet it also beckons with a sense of novelty and introspection. I find myself delving into profound philosophical musings more than ever in pursuit of that elusive work-life balance—my very own unicorn!

Exposing Food Waste: Unveiling the Guilty Party

In the realm of culinary creations, where flavors dance and ingredients harmonize, a dark shadow haunts our world's kitchens. Behold the unveiling of the guilty party behind the masquerade of food waste, a phenomenon as puzzling as a chef seeking a straight squash or zucchini in a world of delightful imperfections.

Picture this: a grand feast laid out before you, each dish crafted with care and skill, only to meet its untimely demise in the clutches of the trash bin. Yes, dear gastronomes, the staggering truth emerges like a soufflé gone awry - in the land of abundance, nearly one-third of the world's food meets a fate sealed in wasteful oblivion.

As we delve deeper into the culinary underworld, a startling revelation emerges from the bustling kitchens of restaurants. Behold, the half-pound specter of food waste per meal, haunting both plate and pantry with reckless abandon. A symphony of flavors doomed to be silenced, as 85% of unused restaurant fare meets a tragic end in the abyss of landfills.

But who, pray tell, is to shoulder the blame for this culinary tragedy of epic proportions? Are we, the culinary maestros, not endowed with the power to stem the tide of wasteful excess? I implore you, fellow chefs, to ponder upon the legacy we leave behind - a legacy not solely measured in Michelin stars or James Beard accolades but in our stewardship of Mother Nature's bountiful gifts.

Let us rise, like a perfectly risen soufflé, to the challenge at hand. Let us embrace the imperfect, the unconventional, and the overlooked in our culinary pursuits. For in the realm of food competitions, why not celebrate ingenuity in waste reduction, turning scraps into masterpieces and leftovers into legends?

Consider the staggering statistics that lie before us, a tapestry woven with the threads of 218 billion dollars in wasted sustenance. Let us not idly stand by as nature's bounty is squandered, but instead, let us wield our knives and ladles with purpose, transforming waste into wonder with each culinary creation.

And to you, dear epicures and epicureans, I extend a challenge - place a five-gallon cambro on your prep table, witness the symphony of waste unfold before your eyes, and embark on a journey towards mindful consumption. Let us not merely savor today's flavors but embrace the responsibility to nurture a sustainable tomorrow.

In this culinary crusade against waste, let creativity reign supreme, and let innovation be our guiding star. Ultimately, as we trim, chop, and simmer our way toward a more sustainable future, we all emerge as victors in the grand feast of life.

Sautéing the Past: A Recipe for Mental Health Vindication

Vindication, much like a perfectly crafted dish, is the art of clearing someone of blame or suspicion, marinating in the proof that someone or something is right, reasonable, or justified. Have you ever pondered the daunting task of having to prove your innocence, like trying to convince a stubborn soufflé to rise or a skeptical steak to reach the perfect medium-rare?

Imagine facing your abuser head-on, like a skilled chef confronting a burnt dish. Picture yourself speaking your truth, your words sizzling in the pan of confrontation until they're well done and ready to be served. How would that make you feel? It's a rare dish indeed, but one that could satisfy the hunger of your soul.

I think back to my own experience, leaving behind the bitter taste of resentment towards my father. He finally heard my simmering emotions, and that, my friends, is the main ingredient in this recipe for healing. After seven long years, I've come to realize that forgiveness isn't just for him—it's for the child within me who yearns for a nurturing presence.

Vindication is like lifting the heavy lid off a pressure cooker, releasing the pent-up steam of past grievances. It's shedding the weight of self-doubt and inadequacy that others have heaped upon us like unwanted toppings on a pizza. They will never truly grasp the depth of our struggles, the flavors of darkness that swirl in our minds, or the intricate layers of pain we've endured.

It's as if the world has lifted off our shoulders, allowing us to float freely like a perfectly whipped meringue. It's the feeling of being on a culinary high, where every flavor is harmonious, and every bite is pure bliss. It's emerging from the dark cave of self-doubt into the warm glow of self-acceptance, where each breath is a sweet aroma of freedom.

So let's sauté the past, my friends, and cook up a feast of vindication and independence. Let's savor the flavors of self-discovery and self-love, knowing that we are the chefs of our own destinies, creating a masterpiece of mental health and well-being.

Bon appétit to a life free of burdens and full of delicious possibilities!

36 Years Later: Reflections on My Suicide Attempt

In the hazy summer of 1988, a storm brewed within me, sparked by harsh words and shattered dreams. As I stood on the brink of despair, contemplating an irreversible choice, a sudden image flashed before my eyes - my grandfather, a beacon of strength amidst my turmoil. In that moment of reckoning, as my car teetered on the edge of darkness, a glimmer of hope flickered within me, urging me to reverse the tide of fate.

It was a pivotal juncture, a turning point that echoed with the thunderous beats of my racing heart. Amidst the turmoil of emotions, a wave of realization washed over me—the stark selfishness of my actions and the poignant guilt that gnawed at my soul. I sought not an end but a cry for help, a plea for understanding in a world fraught with pain and uncertainty.

In the aftermath of that fateful day, I embarked on a journey of healing and introspection, guided by the unwavering light of resilience and perseverance. Through therapy and self-discovery, I navigated the tangled web of emotions, unraveling the tapestry of my past to forge a path towards a brighter future.

As the years unfurled like a tapestry of memories, I found solace in the art of reflection, a profound exercise in understanding the depths of my being. Through this process, I unearthed the roots of my struggles, delving into the tangled emotions that shaped my journey.

Recently, as I delved into the realms of culinary exploration and self-discovery, I was reminded of the transformative power of storytelling. In crafting a hybrid book that intertwined recipes with personal narratives, I found a cathartic avenue to explore my past and embrace the complexities of my journey.

Through sharing my story, I sought to illuminate the shadows of mental health struggles to offer a beacon of hope to those navigating their own stormy seas. In each presentation, each podcast episode, and each TikTok post, I endeavored to spark conversations about mental wellness and resilience to foster a community of support and understanding.

In the tapestry of life, woven with threads of joy and sorrow, triumphs and tribulations, I have discovered a profound truth - the most precious gift we possess is time. It is a currency of infinite value, a tapestry of moments waiting to be cherished and savored.

As I gaze upon the tapestry of my life, woven with threads of resilience and redemption, I am reminded of the profound impact of a single choice, a single moment of clarity that altered the course of my existence. In the tapestry of my life, I found not just survival but a beacon of hope, a testament to the power of resilience and the enduring strength of the human spirit.

As I reflect upon the twists and turns of my journey, I am filled with gratitude for the chance at a second act, a second chance to rewrite the narrative of my life. Through the lens of reflection, I have learned to embrace the scars of my past and to weave them into the fabric of my being with grace and acceptance.

In the symphony of life, I have found my voice, a voice that speaks of resilience, compassion, and the enduring power of human connection. With each word spoken and each story shared, I strive to be a beacon of hope, a light in the darkness for those who walk a similar path.

As I look towards the horizon, I am filled with a sense of purpose and a deep-seated conviction to make a difference in the lives of others. For in the tapestry of our shared humanity, each thread of kindness, each stitch of compassion, weaves a tapestry of resilience and hope.

In the end, as I reflect upon the tapestry of my life, I am reminded of the profound truth that within the depths of darkness, there lies a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope that guides us through the storm. And so, I embrace each moment, each memory, with a renewed sense of purpose and gratitude, knowing that in the tapestry of life, every thread, every stitch, is a testament to the enduring strength of the human spirit.

This article describes the author's recovery journey and provides helpful information on the topics discussed. The opinions and any advice or recommendations included in this article are NOT INTENDED TO REPLACE THE SERVICES OF TRAINED HEALTH PROFESSIONALS AND ARE NOT TO BE CONSIDERED AS MEDICAL ADVICE OR USED TO DIAGNOSE OR TREAT ANY MEDICAL OR MENTAL HEALTH CONDITION. THIS ARTICLE IS NOT INTENDED TO AND SHOULD NOT BE USED BY THOSE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

The author and publisher are not and do not hold themselves out to be a doctor/physician, nurse, physician's assistant, advanced practice nurse, or any other medical professional ("Medical Provider"), psychiatrist, psychologist, therapist, counselor, or social worker ("Mental Health Provider"), registered dietician or licensed nutritionist, member of the clergy, provider of legal services or any other type of professional advice.

Confronting Ignorance and Denial: A Call to Remember, Learn, and Stand Against Racism

Yesterday, I came across an article where a political commentator and show host made a dismissive remark about the unimaginable atrocities of the past, questioning the validity of well-documented historical events. Their statement, suggesting that heinous acts like human experimentation were mere "bizarre propaganda," is deeply troubling, especially coming from someone who belongs to a minority group and should, therefore, be more sensitive to such matters.

In a world where antisemitism is on the rise and the memories of World War II are fading, it is essential to confront ignorance and denial with facts and empathy. The horrors of the Holocaust, including the unthinkable experiments of figures like Dr. Josef Mengele, were meticulously documented by various sources, leaving a trail of evidence that cannot be ignored or dismissed as mere fabrication.

I identify as Jewish and have faced firsthand encounters with antisemitism; I find it both heartbreaking and infuriating to witness the rewriting of true history. The need to acknowledge and learn from the past is more crucial now than ever as we strive to combat prejudice and injustice in all its forms.

In a society where division and hatred often overshadow unity and compassion, it is vital to stand firm against bigotry and misinformation. Education, understanding, and a commitment to truth are our greatest tools in dismantling the walls of ignorance and intolerance that threaten to divide us.

It is high time for individuals like Candace Owens to delve deeper into history and broaden their perspectives beyond the confines of ignorance. Racism, in all its forms, stems from a lack of understanding and empathy, and it is so important to educate ourselves and others to build a more inclusive and equitable world for all. Prejudice has no place in a society that values freedom, equality, and human dignity above all else.

Racism is the religion of the ignorant. What we fear, we must destroy!  

First They Came For… 

by Pastor Martin Niemöller 

Martin Niemöller is best known for writing First They Came, but he is a complicated figure. Initially an antisemitic Nazi supporter, his views changed when he was imprisoned in a concentration camp for speaking out against Nazi control of churches.

First, they came for the Communists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me

And there was no one left

To speak out for me

We all owe it to speak out about antagonist hate because if we do not, who will speak for us when they come?

Embracing Imperfection: A Culinary Journey of Self-Discovery

I have never been one who, when you tell me I am no good at X, you should give up. Nope, what I am great at is self-sabotage. Do you think it gets to me if someone says, "Hey, I didn't like the flavor profile of the collards!" Why should I get upset? That person may be used to how they grew up eating them, which is fair. They may flat-out hate how I cooked them, which is also okay. Let me fuck the dish up, and then it is game on. That is when it all comes out. That voice in your mind comes forward with their proper uptight English accent and says, "Oh, that was a rookie mistake! Didn't I tell you that that would happen if you do it this way?" The best is when you are in the middle of that conversation; you have an order of Self Doubt come in; I meant ten orders of Self Doubt. You start questioning, "What the hell were you thinking? Wait, were you thinking?" You begin to think, "How many times have you made this, and now you fuck it up!" 

I recently started baking again, using my starter, Obi-Wan Ke Dough Bi. He is now a beast, and the flavor profile of that sour is so forward. I decided to make two different recipes. One recipe used just Obi, and the other was a Levain. I also had the third dough recipe for English muffins. I was doing the podcast and came home. I should have cooked the dough on Thursday, but I did not. The following day, I started. I started cooking the English muffins, and I went too quickly; I didn't let the pan heat up first to where I thought it needed to be; why?

Maybe I subconsciously wanted to give me a shitty day; who knows. When I did the first batch, and they didn't get the rise I wanted to, I just kept going. I tried one and was like, WTF. The sourness, that texture, it was euphoric. It could have been better than what Meg Ryan's character, Sally, had at the deli. It was not that good; well, almost! The next batch is perfect. I am not saying I was perfect at the second batch; the second batch when I cooked them was perfect. What happened? Why didn't I start "beating"  myself up? Simple, I was not doing brain surgery, and no one died at the end of the cooking process; that's a good thing. Here is the real reason - Someone once told me, "COOK THE BREAD." The other thing I am trying to train my brain to remember - is that you are human, and we all make mistakes. The only perfect thing is your image of g-d. Every bread is different, even if the recipe is the same. Let me pause here and ask a question. Do you want to know the truth about why some chefs don't get into baking and pastry? If you do, you must choose the red or blue pill. If you take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I will show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. If you take the blue pill, the story ends, and you wake up in bed and believe whatever you want.

Oh, I see. You took the red pill and want to tumble down the rabbit hole. Most savory chefs do not have the bandwidth to bake. In the above statement, every bread or bake is different. There truly is no constant in baking. "What do you mean?" you may ask. There are hundreds upon hundreds of recipes for bread. How could you say that? Remember the rabbit hole; it is time to open your eyes to the why! When it comes to baking, things are alive. Not the little weevils in the flour, nope. I am talking about the yeast we use to make things rise and give structure and texture. Let us not forget about the water and the minerals in the water. What about the temperature of the water when one cooks? Then there are all those cooking techniques that you have to learn and all those damn ratios. Wait, what about remembering what gets baking soda and baking powder? What about all those ratios you must know and all that math you must do? You then have to remember to steam, egg wash, or straight bake. You also have to know about the protein within the flour, what each one does, how to mix their ratios, and so on. The long and the short of it all: Most savory chefs do not want to do the math or the science involved to learn to become a great baker or pastry chef. I can save the end dish if I mess up and put too much salt into a savory recipe. When you add too much salt to a baking recipe, start over.  

I went to culinary school a long time ago—much, much, long ago! I went to school thinking, "I wanted to become a great chef!" I have questioned myself every day since then, and no, I didn't. I love my career! I then asked, "What makes a chef great?" I thought it was that a chef has to master the craft, and to do so is to learn both savory and sweet. I poured straight into the mixing bowl and absorbed all that I could. 

Today, I am who I am supposed to become and realize certain things. I have learned this with the help of my daughter, who has no idea how much she has helped us since she came into our lives. Teaching her how to ride a bike, ride healies, ride roller skates, and learn to crawl, walk or run, I have always said, "It takes practice, it takes patience, and you never give up!" Why is it, then, when we fuck up a dish or whatever, we automatically go into "You dumbass, what the fuck were you thinking mode!" So, how do we stop Agent Smith from destroying Sion? Remember, it's cooking, and you are forever the student. You are the master of nothing. You are only a guide, and the ingredients and the cooking techniques you use let you master the dish you are preparing. Ultimately, if you cook craveable food, respect the process, and cook passionately for YOUR food, you have created YOUR masterpiece.

Do not let anyone tell you you can't make desserts or bake. Keep learning, keep pushing. I once told Amaury Guichon, "Thank you for what you do?" He looked at me and asked if I was a pastry chef, and I answered with this, "No, I am more savory, but what you do pushes me to learn more about the sweet side of food because it makes you a better chef. You dial in so you can create taste-bud-blowing experiences."

Never stop being a student; learn and keep learning all you can. Stop those voices in your head. Remember, things happen when you attempt to learn and perfect your craft. Those things are supposed to happen because you are forever the student... 

Culinary Philosophy: Party of One!

I just had a light bulb moment. I have them once every so often, like that comet that comes around every few years. No, this is not your run-of-the-mill DING fries are done moment. This is more like a “four minutes to Wapner” revelation—like hitting the golf ball with that perfect PING! Sound.

One of the top five questions people ask me is, “Where the hell do you come up with that stuff?” Let me expand a bit so you can get a sense of my thought process. I have always been a creature of WHY? Ask my mother, and she’ll tell you! Her go-to response was, “Why? Because it’s a crooked letter!” I’d be like, WTF does that have to do with my question? It was like when I was younger and asked, “What’s for dinner?” and she’d say, “18:30!” Yup, honest to God.

Eventually, I caught on and started asking, “What time is dinner?” Her reply? “Chicken Parm!” I digress… I have always wondered who came up to eat the things we eat today. For instance, who came up with foie gras? Go look it up; it’s a really Kool story. When I was in culinary school, I constantly asked why. I have no idea why {see what I did there}, but I’m that guy. So, getting back on track {ADHD much?}, I would always ask cooks why they did things a certain way, like why they washed rice a certain number of times or why dry and wet ingredients are mixed separately before combining.

One vivid memory I have is from working at a large Asian-themed restaurant. I was being introduced to a new cooking style, and the trainer, Lou, had probably fifty years on me. I remember watching his technique during one chaotic Friday night shift. The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity—tickets printing, no stop off the wheel, and cooks moving like there was no tomorrow. But Lou moved like Neo dodging bullets in slow motion. His movements were graceful, purposeful, and mesmerizing. He wasn’t chaotic; he deeply respected the food he was cooking. It might not have been his style, but it was American Chinese cuisine, and that was who he was.

We had a family meal each day in most kitchens I’ve worked in or run. To this day, it’s one of my favorite meals. Every day, someone took a shot at introducing the rest of us to their cuisine, representing where they were from, their upbringing, and their style. You get to learn who a cook is through their family meal. The difference between their restaurant food and family meal is LOVE. They cook from their heart, sharing their most craveable dishes and personal stories.

I would sit, eat, ask questions, and learn about their cuisine. I realized that the sparkle in their eyes when they talked about their dishes reflected their memories, respect, and history. I will never consider myself a master of anything. A master is someone who believes they know everything, and that’s not me. I can never fully replicate another culture’s cuisine; I’m not from there and wasn’t raised there. I can only show respect for it.

I have a buddy, Chef Jason F. Lynn—follow him, he’s a great guy. We have deep conversations, and he always says, “Always the student, forever learning our craft!” I look back at the cook I was and the experiences that shaped me, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I’m from Florida, raised in HollyHood, and have worked in Miami up to Tampa, where I am now. I’ve played with so many different cultures in the kitchen, adding flavors to my arsenal that I didn’t know existed.

Recently, on our podcast, The Walk-in Talk, I did a flan challenge. Carl had his Cuban mother-in-law make her flan, and I made mine. My buddy Chef Robert Gonzalez, who was a contestant on the Food Network’s Spring Baking Championship, gave me his recipe. I don’t do anything the normal way. During the podcast, Carl said, “The flan was great, but it’s not Cuban flan.” He made a comment about tradition, and I responded, “I will never do traditional because I wasn’t raised in that culture. It would be disrespectful for me to label their food as such. Instead, I show respect by blending their flavors with my style. That’s the only way I know to honor their cuisine.” I’m just a cook who asks questions and experiments, all while trying to pay my respects to the diverse culinary traditions I encounter.

The dish I prepared for this trigger was to pay respects to my family, who is from Jamaica. People think the national dish is Jerk Chicken, and you couldn’t be more wrong. My mother-in-law is one of fourteen kids, Chinese Jamaican. There is a whole lot of flavor in that family. I was introduced to this dish when my wife and I started dating. Now, I want to state that I was not aware of this dish, and all of you cooks from Jamaica that never told me about it, you {I cannot say what me want to say}! I remember when I was asked if I wanted Ackee and Saltfish. I was like, “What’s Ackee? What is this thing called BAMMY?” Here is the thing: when I said that, her mom looked at me and was like “Well, him going to find out!” It wasn’t that—it was the joy, that dare I say, a twinkle of “I get to show someone a dish from my country.”The whole family was so excited. I learned quickly why they were.

The Dish

Ackee and Yum
Jerk marinated grouper | pineapple vinegar infused mango chutney | coconut milk marinated bammy seared | stewed tomatoes | caramelized onions | Ackee | coconut butter crumb | coconut rum lemongrass infused reduction | lemon jerk curd | roasted broccoli puree

Exploring Tipping Culture in the Restaurant Industry

As someone deeply ingrained in the restaurant industry, I have witnessed the highs and lows that come with the territory. From working in bustling environments akin to scenes from "Zombies" or "Dexter" to relying on tips as a crucial part of my income, I've experienced it all. The allure of fast cash from tips can be addictive, reminiscent of that initial hit of weed or first bump.

One pressing question that arises is whether it is ethical to continue relying on tips as a primary source of income for employees. The concept of "tipflation" has emerged as gratuity expands beyond traditional full-service restaurants, fueled in part by the COVID-19 pandemic and inflation surge. The social pressure created by digital payment systems with visible gratuity prompts has led to what some term as "guilt-tipping" and "tipping fatigue."

Delving into the historical roots of tipping reveals a complex narrative. Tipping traces back to medieval times, where it originated as a way for masters to reward extraordinary service from their servants. Over time, the practice evolved, with some scholars suggesting ties to post-slavery job opportunities in industries like restaurants, railway services, and domestic work.

Fast forward to the present day, and the restaurant industry continues to grapple with the legacy of tipping. The federal minimum wage for tipped workers remains at a mere $2.13, a relic of New Deal-era legislation that required employers to pay a wage supplemented by tips to meet the minimum threshold. This system has faced criticism for perpetuating low wages and instability for workers.

The debate over tipping raises fundamental questions about fairness, sustainability, and the future of the restaurant industry. Some argue that eliminating tipping could lead to higher menu prices but fairer wages for employees. However, the misconception that restaurants are highly profitable businesses overlooks the industry's high failure rate and slim profit margins.

As we navigate these complexities, it's essential to question why the United States stands out as the only country where tipping is a prevalent means of supporting restaurant workers. By shedding light on the history, challenges, and potential solutions regarding tipping, we can foster a deeper understanding of this longstanding practice and its implications for workers and consumers alike.

Behind the Scenes: The Art of Culinary Preparation in the Restaurant Industry

In the restaurant industry, we often say that "99% is preparation and 1% is perspiration." This statement goes beyond a catchy phrase - it underscores the meticulous planning and attention to detail required in running a successful kitchen or event. For chefs, the process of planning starts with creating a menu tailored to the guests' budget rather than lofty aspirations. Every item on the menu requires careful consideration, from choosing ingredients for a simple dish like a Caesar salad to coordinating napkins, place settings, and other essential elements for a multi-course meal.

Managing inventory is another critical aspect of preparation for chefs. Ensuring that the right ingredients are stocked on shelves involves balancing physical inventory with financial resources. Mistakes in supplier deliveries can tie up funds and storage space until resolved, highlighting the importance of thorough checks upon receipt. Timing is also crucial when ordering goods, as chefs must coordinate deliveries to align with their prep schedules and avoid unnecessary delays for their team.

The challenges extend beyond the kitchen, especially when catering off-site events with limited equipment and space. Adapting the menu to fit the available resources, such as a food truck with specific cooking appliances, requires strategic planning and organization. Each item on the menu must be carefully mapped out, considering plate counts, silverware, and washing facilities. Lists upon lists are created, checked, and double-checked to ensure that every detail is accounted for in the execution of the event.

Catering events can be chaotic and unpredictable, akin to playing a high-stakes game like Russian Roulette. Chefs must be ready to adapt on the fly, making adjustments if certain items run out unexpectedly. This level of control and precision appeals to many chefs, who revel in the challenge and excitement of catering unique events. Their dedication to perfection and their willingness to go above and beyond ensure that every event they cater is a memorable experience for their guests.

In conclusion, the world of catering and restaurant shifts demands a meticulous blend of preparation, adaptability, and control. Chefs navigate a complex web of planning and execution, driven by a passion for delivering exceptional culinary experiences. It is this dedication to their craft that sets them apart and makes them the unsung heroes behind the scenes of every successful event.

From Chef to Farmer Advocate: A journey of Resilience, reflections and Food Safety

I consider myself a farmer advocate. Every chef worth their weight should be one, too. For the lack of better terminology, the past two years have been challenging. I walked away from a corporate job during COVID to open a restaurant, only to leave it a year later. Starting my own business, I had to close it due to the loss of my sister-in-law to COVID-19. We packed up our house and moved to the west coast of Florida. My life resembles the top country song on the charts right now. You might be thinking, "You didn't mention your dogs." I hesitated to share that our dogs crossed the rainbow bridge soon after my sister-in-law's passing. So yes, my life feels like a country song hit. Despite the challenges, the resilient human spirit prevails. I refuse to give up, for I have learned that time is our most precious asset.

I was raised near where Florida once boasted the world's best oranges. I grew up surrounded by farmers tending to cows and crops, with the ocean to the east.

Recently, I was shocked to discover that the United States ranks ninth in the world for food safety, on par with France. On September 2, 2023, the USDA recalled 15,000 pounds of sausage. The following day, the FDA recalled over 5,000 pounds of dog food contaminated with Salmonella. On September 5, 2023, the USDA recalled 245,000 pounds of frozen chicken contaminated with plastic. The blinking cursor urges me to share this story. How can we not be outraged? It's not enough to applaud catching these issues; they should never have occurred. COVID-19 taught me that we cannot blindly trust BIG FOOD or the complex logistics of our food sources. It's time to scrutinize where we buy our goods. Are they truly local? Are those green tomatoes from a massive industrial farm the best and most local option? Let's eliminate the middlemen. Consider this: consolidation diminishes our choices. The shrimp industry crisis from a few years back serves as a stark reminder. One infected shrimp jeopardized entire stocks. When I was young, Joe Z's Market and the kosher butcher across the street were culinary landmarks. Today, these individual establishments have given way to conglomerates, purportedly for our convenience. But true convenience lies in cooking from whole foods, a practice we've forsaken in our time-strapped lives. We opt for quick fixes like ten-minute rice, overlooking that modern pressure cookers can prepare rice perfectly in just 12 minutes. We're always "slammed," too busy to savor life's moments or prioritize our well-being.

What do you fear more, tainted beef or unwashed greens? Do you wash your chicken out of fear of foodborne illness or COVID-19? Our country's food safety ranking is not solely about restaurant kitchens but where they source their ingredients. The old adage "Get to know your farmer" holds true. When did you last visit a genuine farm where toil and passion yield the most flavorful, nutrient-dense produce? A bite of a sun-ripened, non-GMO tomato can be a revelatory experience. Its explosion of flavors invokes a sensory journey unlike any other. As a chef, stepping outside to harvest ingredients for dinner should be a cherished routine, not an afterthought buried under excuses of being "slammed." Reflect on the quality of what you put in; it directly impacts the quality of what you serve and the reviews you receive. In today's tech-driven world, there are no excuses for not embracing sustainable practices. If you find yourself dismissing this as "nonsense," consider that even a simple hydroponic setup can revolutionize your approach to sourcing ingredients. Instead of rushing to fast-food chains, visit a local farm. Learn from farmers' dedication and let them inspire you to reconnect with the land and its bounty. The only barrier is you.

I am taking meaningful steps by utilizing my hydroponic tower and cultivating leafy greens and other favorite foods. I am translating words into action, not to make a difference but to embody a difference in my food choices. By tending to my garden and composting food waste, I aim to provide my family and guests with safe, flavorful produce. To all the hardworking farmers out there, we owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you for nourishing our bodies and souls. Growing your own vegetables allows you to infuse your meals with a passion for how you want to eat. Consumers hold immense power; let's start exercising it.

Exploring the Culinary Passion: A Journey into the Soul of Food

If I could post my mental state today, it would be: "Today's forecast calls for partly melancholy with severe winds and heavy fog!" ADHD can feel like both a blessing and a curse. For those who don’t struggle with it, imagine driving down a street; suddenly, a stiff wind causes power lines to cross. There’s a massive crack, a voltage surge, and then a bolt of lightning. Once the wires separate, everything seems normal. You might call it a "squirrel moment," but I call it "wires crossed." At that moment, I short-circuited, and everything that was floating around in my mind burst forth.

It's not ADHD causing my feelings today; it’s the toll of the past few weeks. I've been focused on helping others and neglecting what’s most important: me. Through my food addiction journey, I’ve learned I need to manage my emotions positively. In the past, I would have turned to substances or food to cope. Now, I strive to be impeccable with my words, avoid taking things personally, and not make assumptions.

Today, my ADHD is in hyperdrive. After hearing about "Cupcake," I reached out to the chefs we used to hang out with and kept hearing, "This cannot be good!" It wasn’t. I felt like an awful person. Cupcake and I had many conversations, especially after they lost their fiancée to cancer. When I got the news of Cupcake’s passing, my first thought was, "How did they die?" Life happens, and I realized we had lost touch. I’m not jumping to conclusions but letting my emotions wash over me.

Throughout my journey, I’ve learned what benefits my mental health. I’ve set boundaries to protect myself. I feel like I let someone down, but I know I can’t save everyone. I understand that while some stories end, mine continues. Cupcake’s passing reminded me of my "family" from my old company. So much happened during my eight and a half years there: my mother’s cancer, my daughter’s birth, my father’s death. COVID hit me hardest; I lost my passion for food and sought more from life. It became the villain once I left that job, and those "family" members became collateral damage. I recognize I was wrong, and I will change that. I know Cupcake would have forgiven me; that’s the type of person they were. Their death has brought us back together, and I’m committed to keeping those ties.

What you just read reflects my journey in learning to cope with emotions. I wrote this without a filter to show how my mind works. I want you, the readers, to see my raw, vulnerable thoughts. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s one of the greatest gifts we can share. If you don’t believe me, watch Jon Bon Jovi save that woman’s life on the bridge.

The Ghost of Our Future & Past

Have you ever stopped to think about where your food really comes from? It's not just about picking up groceries at the store anymore; a bigger story unfolds right before our eyes. This isn't your typical Christmas tale - we're talking about the potential ghost of our future here.

Let's start with a simple question: how many times a day do you eat? And where does that food on your plate come from? It's easy to overlook the journey our food takes to get to us, but it's a story that's worth exploring.

Have you ever considered becoming a steward of the land, a modern-day shepherd? It's a romantic idea, but let's face it—most of us are clueless when it comes to farming. We rely on the hard work and dedication of those who understand the land and its rhythms.

The news is filled with stories of farms closing down, and the reasons may vary. Is it politics, rising costs, or environmental challenges? The truth is, it's a mix of everything. Farmers are facing tough decisions, and we, as consumers, play a crucial role in their survival.

Farmers are caught in a tough spot as prices go up and the demand for cheap food increases. They pour their hearts and souls into their work yet struggle to make ends meet. Land development, natural disasters, and fluctuating market demand all add to their challenges.

If we don't start questioning where our food comes from, we might find ourselves facing a future where food scarcity is a real threat. It's time to prioritize sustainable agriculture, support local farmers, and make informed choices about what we eat.

So next time you sit down for a meal, remember the hands that toiled to bring that food to your table. Let's not let the ghost of our future haunt us - let's make conscious choices that support a thriving, sustainable food system for generations to com

Electric Emotions: Healing Through Vulnerability

If I could post my mental state today, it would be: "Today's forecast calls for partly melancholy with severe winds and heavy fog!" ADHD can feel like both a blessing and a curse. For those who don’t struggle with it, imagine driving down a street; suddenly, a stiff wind causes power lines to cross. There’s a massive crack, a voltage surge, and then a bolt of lightning. Once the wires separate, everything seems normal. You might call it a "squirrel moment," but I call it "wires crossed." At that moment, I short-circuited, and everything that was floating around in my mind burst forth.

It's not ADHD causing my feelings today; it’s the toll of the past few weeks. I've been focused on helping others and neglecting what’s most important: me. Through my food addiction journey, I’ve learned I need to manage my emotions positively. In the past, I would have turned to substances or food to cope. Now, I strive to be impeccable with my words, avoid taking things personally, and not make assumptions.

Today, my ADHD is in hyperdrive. After hearing about "Cupcake," I reached out to the chefs we used to hang out with and kept hearing, "This cannot be good!" It wasn’t. I felt like an awful person. Cupcake and I had many conversations, especially after they lost their fiancée to cancer. When I got the news of Cupcake’s passing, my first thought was, "How did they die?" Life happens, and I realized we had lost touch. I’m not jumping to conclusions but letting my emotions wash over me.

Throughout my journey, I’ve learned what benefits my mental health. I’ve set boundaries to protect myself. I feel like I let someone down, but I know I can’t save everyone. I understand that while some stories end, mine continues. Cupcake’s passing reminded me of my "family" from my old company. So much happened during my eight and a half years there: my mother’s cancer, my daughter’s birth, my father’s death. COVID hit me hardest; I lost my passion for food and sought more from life. It became the villain once I left that job, and those "family" members became collateral damage. I recognize I was wrong, and I will change that. I know Cupcake would have forgiven me; that’s the type of person they were. Their death has brought us back together, and I’m committed to keeping those ties.

What you just read reflects my journey in learning to cope with emotions. I wrote this without a filter to show how my mind works. I want you, the readers, to see my raw, vulnerable thoughts. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s one of the greatest gifts we can share. If you don’t believe me, watch Jon Bon Jovi save that woman’s life on the bridge.

The Roller Coaster of Entrepreneurship: Navigating the Storms of Self-Doubt and Success

Sometimes, life feels like drifting in the sea of the unknown. The current moves you as you rise and fall on the waves, while the wind brings life and direction. I sit here trying to think what to type next and how to communicate what I want you, the reader, to feel. The sea and the wind have created a vortex. My emotions are spinning, and I feel I am being pulled under. I feel like Jacob Marley, with chains wrapped around me and cement blocks. I think, "Please don't let me..." It happens. I feel myself drifting straight down into the darkness. I feel the weight all over my body, crushing me. What light was there is fading rapidly, and I am left alone in silence. A deafening silence! I am left with my heartbeat, my doubts, my should of, my could of, and my would of's.

Music plays, my eyes open, the alarm is going off, and I survive another day. I go about my day constantly, thinking about what hell will be around the corner today. What obstacle is the universe going to throw at me today? What phone call is going to punch in the dick! You hear those faint voices, "Does he really know what the hell he is doing?" You realize those voices are in your head. You move about your day, checking off your checklist and seeming like you are in control. Then you hear, "Are you keeping busy to forget about that..." Your phone rings, and the dread and despair fall over you as you see the name; it's that call!

Welcome to the glist and glamor of entrepreneurship! Well, this is my version; yours may be different. You may ask yourself why the hell would you{{or anyone else for that matter]] do that to themselves.? Simple, it's mine. Okay, it's not that simple. You have to be absolutely in fucking insane to want to be in charge. "It's the American dream!" Yes, yes, it is, but it comes with a lot of risks. The burden it puts on your family unit, HELLO! The toll it takes on you, your mental health. Your bank account!

Why do I do it? I want my daughter to have a legacy. I want to show her that you can achieve anything if you put your mind to it. I do this because I believe in myself. I see myself as those around me support me! The biggest failure for an entrepreneur is THEMSELVES! More specifically, the fear of the unknown. Can I, ME, CAN I REALLY DO THIS! Self-doubt kills a dream quicker than anything. “But I can't do that. Something like that already exists! Really, did that stop Netflix from taking down Blockbuster? We all thought there would be nothing but Microsoft. How's that going? We all thought we would be singing "Hello MOTO." You get the point! Life is not easy, so why do you sabotage yourself? See yourself as those support you see you! Do what I have been doing lately. I keep telling myself, "It is not a sprint but a marathon!" Life is like baking sourdough. It takes time, nourishment, time, support, time, stretching, time, seasoning or time, heat, steam, structure, you get the point. When you screw up, as someone once told me, “Just bake the bread!” I think another flaw is getting in your own way. Listen, just do it, learn from it mostly stay out of your own damn way. More importantly, stay out of my way!

Feeling the same ups and downs of life, entrepreneurship, and self-doubt? You’re not alone. Whether you’re navigating your own storms or facing the unknown with fear, remember—it’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon. Take the next step toward clarity and growth. Join me on this journey of self-belief and resilience by subscribing to my newsletter for more insights, or let’s connect directly for personalized coaching. Don’t let doubt stop you from building the life or legacy you dream of—start now.

I’m my own gatekeeper!

For some reason, I feel different. As I lay here reflecting on my day, a thought hits me—my doubt didn’t come from anywhere else but me. My father planted it, but I’ve been the one watering it all these years. If I had the power to break the cycle of his abuse, why haven’t I stopped myself from abusing me?

I’ve always seen triggers like an overpowering flavor—something that needs balance, something I have to tame. And in some strange, fucked-up way, I think I didn’t want to let go of that feeling. Like Neo seeing the Matrix for what it really is, I suddenly see my patterns for what they are. And now, a part of me is screaming, What do I do now?

The answer? Live!

For the first time in a long time, I feel comfortable. Balanced. At peace.

I realize now that I’ve been the one standing in my own way. I blamed everything and everyone around me because it was easier than looking at the real cause—me. That truth is both sobering and freeing. Because if I was the one holding myself back, I can be the one to set myself free. And I am.

I used to fear letting go of who I was, clinging to the version of me that felt familiar—even when it hurt. But I have a tattoo of a Phoenix for a reason. The old Jeff has burned away. And from the ashes, I rise into the person I was always meant to be.

I finally understand that one voice can make a difference. And I will make mine heard.

What limiting belief have you been holding on to? What’s stopping you from becoming who you were meant to be? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts.

#TEDx #MindfulTransformation #RiseLikeAPhoenix #BreakTheCycle #MentalHealthMatters #OvercomeYourDoubt #OwnYourStory #CraveableObsessed #FromFireToFreedom