The Recipe for Life
Chapter One: Whip your whites: Birth
Chapter Two: Split your yolks: Childhood
Chapter Three: Stir it up: Learning in middle school
Chapter Four: Let it Rise: Becoming someone in High School
Chapter Five: Bake it up Nice and slow: Doing me
Cars constantly screaming, hundreds of pounding feet hurrying to get people home to their loving families. Laughter, gossip, and sympathy all swirling through the frost-bitten air. New York. The land of opportunity, change occurring every minute of every day. There was no way I couldn’t make it in this gloriously unforgiving concrete jungle. Being five years out of college, I could hardly see the light at the end of the tunnel. Being a young proprietor of a successful restaurant and all. After highschool, I had decided to pursue my dream, much like my cousin. My cousin, Jamie, insisted that New York City was a beautiful and thriving city full of possibility. Only enriching my desire for a life in New York. I was a recent graduate of America’s utmost prestigious culinary academy, the Culinary Institute of America, New York City.  America’s top chefs had come and gone through this very college. Graduated students building reputations and creating dominant empires, something young chefs could only fantasize about.
My dream since I had been a child, was somewhat more attainable, it was to become a renowned chef and own a quaint, opulent restaurant. I dreamed of a restaurant abounding with energy and life, as well as a fresh and inspired menu. Ensuing multiple years of working around in various restaurants, decisions had been made and the Tonic Bar was born. The building was located near Soho, with vibrant neon signs and a flaming red facade, the appeal was undeniable. The restaurant was a major success, for the first few months New Yorkers would line up around the block. This was unlike anything I had ever seen before, being from a small town in Wisconsin. In this day and age, social media was everything. After the first year the Tonic Bar was trending on twitter with thousands of soaring reviews and recommendations.
The cuisine was fresh and sexy, just like its very hash slinger. Inspiration for the menu was drawn from the very roots of my existence, Robert and Diane, my phenomenal parents . As a child, fresh and seasonal cooking was always prominent in my household. Not to say that the food was shoveled into our mouths, but the food was shoveled into our mouths. Diane believed that when we tasted food, we would either love or hate it. Force feeding, unfortunately, may have been one of the best things to ever happen to me, inspiring a superb menu. Featuring chef favorites such as: caramelized grilled sea scallops over a bed of lemon risotto, and oak-grilled filet mignon. All of the menu items were to be exquisitely prepared and executed with utmost uniformity, while still being realistic and approachable for the populace of the area. Focus on family was especially strong in the Tonic Bar. I did not want the menu to be impossibly lavish and ornate. The intention was for the culinary connoisseur and the average joe to appreciate and enjoy the food equally.
My home life was much the opposite of the live I led at my restaurant. Lavish parties also ensued in a frequent manner, because I am quite the host. Anyone, I’m sure, would attest to that notable fact. When I wasn’t at the restaurant or throwing parties, I was very much alone with my two bulldogs, Yukon, and Butch. Where as, at work, I was invariably bombarded by clientele, wait staff, and chefs. Being alone wasn’t always such a detriment to my life, as I was able to reflect on my past present and future. Life is good to those who allow it to be. The key, is letting things happen as fast or slow as they must, and in the end anyone can rise to the top.