Category: career

Announcement Here

I know how much you all love Marigold, and I get it, you are starting to wonder- where is the food?  You used to post so much concerning this wonderful topic!  Get a glass of wine in this girl and she literally never shuts up about it!

Well my dedicated readers, I have heard you.  My food-loving fiends, I have not forgotten about you.  My ever hungry audience curious for more from this mastercraft of the whimsical, I am not ignoring you.

I am tickled to announce that a new food blog has already been born.  Marigold has a sister, and it is all about cooking!  While still under construction, this blog is more than a concept, it is a metaphorical location.

Stay tuned, and stay hungry.

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Hypocrite

I have a secret that I haven’t told anyone- not my lover or even my mother.  I don’t even want to admit it myself.  I have talked so. much. shit. about the restaurant life, about how pastry is underrated, how it doesn’t pay, how I am never going back.  My goal for 2018 is to get out of the professional kitchen and find a more comfortable way to make money from my love of food.

Not even 2 months into the year, and I am starting to have feelings again.  My mind has developed a wandering eye.  I don’t miss the late nights, I don’t miss the stress, I don’t miss having to babysit coworkers, but goddamnit I miss making desserts.  I miss making beautiful plates.  I miss thinking creatively about new ways to do things, new ways to serve them, new plating styles.  I miss the excitement of selling dishes that I created.  I miss trying to make them look pleasant and curious.  I miss playing with a range of flavor and combining them in surprising ways.

So there, I said it.  I miss it.  I do.  I even find myself looking for job postings, dreaming about jobs that are too hard, promising long hours and a long range of requirements, most of which is not the fun part of creating.   Because there is still a small part of me that believes that I could do it.

But then I realize that I get to have a life and freedom to do all the other things that I want to do.  Which is a lot of things.  Normals things, like cooking at home, and drawing, and writing.  And being social.  This I would miss.

As for now, I am enjoying the easy life of unemployment, all the while feeling restless, feeling guilty, feeling like I should be contributing something more.

COnflicted and a hypocrite, that’s me.

-Marianna

Career Advice

My coworkers, rather my ex-coworkers, when I lost my job, their immediate heartfelt reaction was to not let this minor inconvenience get in my way of pastry domination- a catchphrase that came out of my lips multiple times on a daily basis during my reign as a Pastry Chef at two top Chicago restaurants.  Pastry domination, taking over the Chicago dining scene, being one of the best pastry chefs in the nation, making pastry relevant again, was my dream.  I worked so damn hard at pastry domination, at being successful, at making badass dishes that people loved and remembered and talked about and Instagrammed.  I was in multiple magazines, I was on television, I sold a rather large percentage of dishes, I was for a brief moment successful.

So when that unexpected ax came for my head, when my success wasn’t actually successful, I gave up the fight.

I did.  I gave up.  I don’t give up on anything.  I am a fighter, I am determined,  I don’t let anything get in the way when I have made up my mind on something.  But I did, I gave up.  I threw in the dirty towel.

I have been cooking since legally allowed to start earning money.  I didn’t have much background before that- I didn’t learn from grandma, I didn’t grow up in the kitchen under mom’s apron. But once I picked up that knife, I didn’t put it back down.  I have 19 years in food service.  I have been a part of every angle, in every corner of the industry, learning and experiencing the entire gamut of food service- fast food, catering, cafeteria, fine dining, modern casual dining, large restaurants, small restaurants, serving, busing, prep cook, line cook, pastry assistant, pastry chef, menu development, costing, management, dishwasher.  You name it, I have done it.

I thought that this would be important, I thought that this would prove to be an asset.  Everyone needs to eat, right?

Well yes, but as it turns out, people don’t really care about what they eat so much.  They care about fashion, they care about cocktails, they care about gossip, and movies, and politics, and social media.  People care about taking pictures of their food, but they don’t actually care about food.  Cooking and cleaning is a nuisance, and eating out is expensive.  So the people want something fast and cheap and easy.  This leaves me irrelevant.

Not only do I have the years of food service, I put all my eggs in one basket.  I gave up everything to pursue my dream.  I gave up making any kind of money.  I gave up having a life of my own.  I lost my friends.  I gave up holidays with my family.  I gave up on the physical self- I gained weight, lost muscle, stopped going to the gym, got veracious veins, developed asthma, had a bout of psoriasis for about 3 years, got acne, developed alcoholic tendencies, ran myself into a car on my bike which resulted in sever bruising but couldn’t take any time off work, got very sick many times but still worked my 12+ hour shifts, got burned, got cut, worked mornings, worked nights, worked the night and then the next morning, I got mugged on the way home from working a late shift, I got pink eye, I never had vacation, I could hardly even request a day off.  I had two full-time jobs at once multiple times so that I could pay rent.

I gave up my dignity- I got yelled at, verbally harassed, degraded, threatened, treated like a child.  I never got complimented, nobody ever said “good job”.  I didn’t get breaks of any sort, I ate my one meal a day standing up while still trying to get my prep work done.  I never had health insurance, (don’t even ask about dental, that’s hilarious) never had time or money for the doctor.  All for nothing.  All to be a servant.  I never made any money.  The most money I ever made a college grad would turn their nose up at, and say no way in hell would I work for so little, even at an easy job.

I thought it was worth it, but when that ax came down I felt like a damn fool.

My coworkers told me not to give up, they told me that I was very skilled, that I had something.  They looked me in the eye and said to keep going.

They still ask “where did you end up?”  I reply I am on welfare.

So I am not following their advice.  I am not following the path anymore.  I am going to carve out my clearing by giving up.

Just a Step to Side

Why am I not afraid of self-employment when really I should be?  Many people have tried, and most of those people fail.  I might too.  There is a good chance that I will fail in the quest for being my own boss and generating an income.

I am not afraid because if I fail, I don’t have too far to fall.  This is one of the perks of investing in a career that makes very little money.  The risks are lowered because I don’t have a large financial expectation from the get-go.  That means that if it takes 5 years to fully develop the business, I won’t be in dark in the lean beginning.

Just because I haven’t made money cooking, does not mean that there is no money in it.

Confession of a Feminist

As a single woman in her mid-thirties, with a career-long rap sheet in the culinary industry, you would assume that I would support the #metoo movement.  I have stories, I have harassment, I have glass ceiling lower than a garden apartment.

I am angered by the way I have been treated, I am angered that I put up with it to some degree. I am mad that I thought this “locker room talk” would make me stronger, I am mad that I thought my career was more important than my dignity.

I have never been physically harassed beyond butt grabbing and boob groping, but I can comfortably say that I have been verbally harassed just about every day on the job.

“You gotta have thick skin if you are going to make it in this industry.”

Christ on a stick, I have heard that so many times I want to puke.

It’s not always words, it’s glancing, it’s licking of the lips (I know, ew), it’s the brushing against the butt repeatedly, it’s the unwanted advances, it’s subtly lewd comments, it’s the never being taken seriously because of the way that I look.  I have not been granted second interviews for management positions because of my innocent smile, soft eyes, amiable nature.  Every time I tell anyone that I work in the foodservice industry, people always assume that I must be a server.  I am a damn fine cook and a successful chef,  I don’t rely on talent or beauty, I rely on skill, determination, drive, and a great sense of style.

I do not back the #metoo movement because social media is click bait, and that is it.  #metoo a damn trend and right now at some point soon it will trend downward.  There is no fight in a hashtag.  There is no march, there is no riot, there is nothing beyond words of disapproval.

Last year’s person of the year was a monster who insists still that the title of the Time magazine award should be REVERTED to “man” of the year.

This year’s Time Magazine’s Person of the Year is a fucking hashtag.

GET REAL.

THE CONSEQUENCE OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT ARE MORE THAN A MAGAZINE COVER.

Tuesday Vibes

Things are really working out for me lately.  I am enjoying another lazy day in my uptown apartment, slowly sipping coffee and staring out into the late morning kitchen: it’s clean in here, the light is soft due to a hazy overcast day, the cat is happily playing in the basement, the neighborhood is graveyard silent.

As I sip the viscous coffee, very warm and pretty black is the way I like it, not too hot, not too room temperature, thick but not roasted too dark, I am making my daily to-do list and sorting out the errands for the day.  I am ready to accomplish every task at hand, motivated because they are all relatively easy and since I made the list, I want to do them.

Things are looking up is the prevailing feeling of this cozy and lazy morning, I have my life under control.  This is pretty ironic considering that I recently lost my job- a critical part of my self-identity, of my self-worth, of motivation, a demoralizing feat after working for over a decade with a personal sense of dedication for an end goal in which you feel like you got gypped.

Now I have lost my job before in the past- a couple of times.  But this time it is more personal and more defining.  I was very proud of my position, I worked at it very hard, at the expense of the personal life.  I lost my friends, I had to make an appointment with my roommate just to see her, I saw my nieces hardly at all.  I saw my lover while he slept, and we disagreed on what to do on our one day off together.  He wanted to find adventure in the big city, I wanted to sleep.

It felt worth it because this was a goal and I was following through with it.  I mean, as an adult you do have to prioritize work at times to get ahead.  This city is competitive and it takes a lot of energy to pull ahead.

But now, all I can feel is that it was a complete waste of my youthful years.  The payoff is that I cannot imagine doing that ever again.  I am willing to do the type of work, but not for the hours and not for the pay.

So, considering the circumstances of an intricate web of personal feelings, things are really working out.  For the moment at least, while I can wrangle some time for myself, while I can manage some time for other people, while I can keep motivated in not having anything in particular to do.

Fire Cake

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Flaming piri piri marshmallow, candy coated chocolate mousse, honey caramel, candied cocoa nibs, dulce de leche crumb, pomegranate preserves.

This dessert captures the essence of the restaurant, more so than anything else I have created.  The concept of the restaurant is built around a wood burning kitchen that is open for the diners to see.  The kitchen is basically a wall of flames dancing in the backdrop of a delicious meal.  I wanted to bring a piece of that excitement to each table, I wanted to bring a slice of the action to each diner, I wanted the fire to be an integral part of the meal.

I am pretty happy with the outcome of this dish.  It is chocolate based but not too heavy.  It is not overly sweet, it is gooey, an array of textures backed by a fruit component, and a hint of spice.

To be honest, I have been working on this dish for a while, documented here Table side Effigy and here Wait for It and again here Version 1.0

Still, this dish is not done yet.  It still has to evolve into something greater, into something better, into a new identity.  It is always hard to top a winner, and the challenge leaves a lot of room for disappointment.  Nevertheless, I only see room for potential.  The evolution continues.