the magic of the experience (michelin part 7)
This is a re-sharing of a culinary experience that I had back in 2022, working at a 2* Michelin restaurant, Birdsong SF. I posted an eight-part series on Twitter at the time, but it was never formalized in a longer format. I'm doing this to sort of immortalize the experience here since it was some of my earliest beginnings of living according to my values, doing what I found interesting, and finding beauty.
It's an experience that helped shape my first sabbatical and I'm revisiting some of these learnings as they mix with conversations and readings in my current sabbatical.
Each part will be about the same with some grammatical and intonation fixes, plus an updated reflection at the end.
This is part seven. Enjoy 😌.
Some of my friends have asked "has working at the 2-star restaurant ruined the magic of dining there? Would you go back to eat there?"
It's a nuanced answer, not a simple yes or no. I'd say that the magic was replaced by narratives. And like learning a language, it's a one way street. Once you learn it, you can no longer hear gibberish.
Inherent in the word "magic" is the fact that you don't have a working explanation for why something occurs. Once I gathered more context by being in the trenches with the people who work with the food day in and day out, I was able to build narratives around the unknowns.
This lessens the magic in a way where the unknowns become more known. When you're operating more in the realm of knowns rather than unknowns, you have more explanations, and therefore less magic.
When I return to eat, I'll have a hard bias to shake. I won't be able to separate the narratives of the kitchen and the artistry of the food. They would be one and the same. I won't be able to view the dishes in isolation anymore.
Instead, I would see stories.
Stories of the time we almost ran out of peas and the executive sous was downstairs prepping them as fast as we were serving them (clutch 💪🫛).
Stories of the CDC staying up until 3 am, experimenting and perfecting that super-duper-special-occasion hazelnut soufflé. 😋
Stories of the heroic dishwashers that somehow keep the entire night going, dishing out (pun intended) clean plates for the guests. 🐙
Stories of the unseen commis downstairs ravaging through hundreds of pounds of produce, washing, cleaning, picking, prepping, and working faster than I could ever imagine (or keep up). 🔨🌿🌱🍄🐟
And of course, the stories of each dish - layers upon layers of flavors that were carefully coaxed into perfect bites. 🥘
For me, the magic has morphed into a vast well of awe and wonder. And because of my experience, it's always served with a side dish of humble appreciation.
← part 6 | part 8 →