I just finished the book The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn. It was recommended by a couple I met at a wine dinner a week before coming to Italy.
The book is about a woman who left her career, took all her savings, and moved to Paris to study at Le Cordon Bleu. Like me, she had no aspirations of being a chef - it was just something she always wanted to do, and the opportunity was presented to her. Of course I love any book about food, life, and (bonus) with recipes.
When I started looking for places to spend abroad after leaving my last career, I started by planning a 10-day cooking expedition in Morocco in early Fall, followed by 30-day Yoga teacher training intensive in India, and was going to follow up with an amateur cooking or agriturismo vacation in Italy. This led me to Italian studies programs, and finally, to a culinary institute which has its own Enology-Wine Studies program. I knew as soon as I talked to the admissions director that this would be a great experience - Wine and Italian language - huge passions of mine - Morocco and India can wait, as this program needed to be started in the Fall. I plan on taking these other trips, but you know when something comes along and it's right.
People often ask me, "What next?" or "Are you going to open a wine shop or restaurant?" I always answer, "This is not a destination, or means to an end; it's a journey. Something I just want to do." I have zero desire to open a restaurant or be a chef outside my own kitchen. I cook on a personal level, for people I know and love. For me.
Since I've been here, I'm seeing other possibilities for travel, for learning, for exploring (see blog on "If Life is Like a Box of Chocolates..." for my attempt at conveying this). As I finished Kathleen Flinn's book last night around midnight, I sat up in bed. SHE gets it. She communicated in that last page what I'm finding in my own journey, which is really just the beginning!
To quote, "As in cooking, living requires that you taste, taste, taste as you go along - you can't wait until the dish of life is done. In my career, I always looked ahead to the place I wanted to go, the next rung on the ladder. ... The message is that while on a journey, we are sure the answer lies at the destination. But in reality, there is no station, no "place to arrive at once and for all. The joy of life is the trip, and the station is a dream that constantly outdistances us." (She is quoting a parable by Robert Hastings, "The Station.")
I spend, literally, hours every day walking these streets to get to classes, markets, or just walking around thinking about the freedom of finally not worrying about 'where I'll end up' - and just enjoying BEING. One of the last lines in Kathleen Flinn's book (before more recipes - yumm!) is pure genius in tying the whole story together. "How many tears did I cry because I didn't know what I wanted? 'The sharper your knife,' as Chef Savard had said, 'the less you cry.' For me, it also means to cut those things away that get in the way of your passion and of living your life the way it's meant to be lived."
Thank you, Kathleen, for conveying in that beautiful book all those things that have been bubbling up for me for a while now. It's ironic I was reading this book when I moved here. My second night in this apartment I only found dull knives with which to cut up this beautiful produce (See blog on, "Me, My Onion, and Irony: Cheesegasms..."). I've since absconded a sharpening rod from a 'Euro Store' and the only tears I cry are out of sheer joy.
So while I have no idea where I'm going next, I'm also not going to worry about it because I'm here. Now. And I need to get back to a metric-ass-ton of reading. But I know one thing, I am so blessed to have cut my way out of the box. Now, back to my (wine) tasting, tasting, tasting.
Peace, love, and all things on life's plate - and in life's glass - right now!
The book is about a woman who left her career, took all her savings, and moved to Paris to study at Le Cordon Bleu. Like me, she had no aspirations of being a chef - it was just something she always wanted to do, and the opportunity was presented to her. Of course I love any book about food, life, and (bonus) with recipes.
When I started looking for places to spend abroad after leaving my last career, I started by planning a 10-day cooking expedition in Morocco in early Fall, followed by 30-day Yoga teacher training intensive in India, and was going to follow up with an amateur cooking or agriturismo vacation in Italy. This led me to Italian studies programs, and finally, to a culinary institute which has its own Enology-Wine Studies program. I knew as soon as I talked to the admissions director that this would be a great experience - Wine and Italian language - huge passions of mine - Morocco and India can wait, as this program needed to be started in the Fall. I plan on taking these other trips, but you know when something comes along and it's right.
People often ask me, "What next?" or "Are you going to open a wine shop or restaurant?" I always answer, "This is not a destination, or means to an end; it's a journey. Something I just want to do." I have zero desire to open a restaurant or be a chef outside my own kitchen. I cook on a personal level, for people I know and love. For me.
Since I've been here, I'm seeing other possibilities for travel, for learning, for exploring (see blog on "If Life is Like a Box of Chocolates..." for my attempt at conveying this). As I finished Kathleen Flinn's book last night around midnight, I sat up in bed. SHE gets it. She communicated in that last page what I'm finding in my own journey, which is really just the beginning!
To quote, "As in cooking, living requires that you taste, taste, taste as you go along - you can't wait until the dish of life is done. In my career, I always looked ahead to the place I wanted to go, the next rung on the ladder. ... The message is that while on a journey, we are sure the answer lies at the destination. But in reality, there is no station, no "place to arrive at once and for all. The joy of life is the trip, and the station is a dream that constantly outdistances us." (She is quoting a parable by Robert Hastings, "The Station.")
I spend, literally, hours every day walking these streets to get to classes, markets, or just walking around thinking about the freedom of finally not worrying about 'where I'll end up' - and just enjoying BEING. One of the last lines in Kathleen Flinn's book (before more recipes - yumm!) is pure genius in tying the whole story together. "How many tears did I cry because I didn't know what I wanted? 'The sharper your knife,' as Chef Savard had said, 'the less you cry.' For me, it also means to cut those things away that get in the way of your passion and of living your life the way it's meant to be lived."
Thank you, Kathleen, for conveying in that beautiful book all those things that have been bubbling up for me for a while now. It's ironic I was reading this book when I moved here. My second night in this apartment I only found dull knives with which to cut up this beautiful produce (See blog on, "Me, My Onion, and Irony: Cheesegasms..."). I've since absconded a sharpening rod from a 'Euro Store' and the only tears I cry are out of sheer joy.
So while I have no idea where I'm going next, I'm also not going to worry about it because I'm here. Now. And I need to get back to a metric-ass-ton of reading. But I know one thing, I am so blessed to have cut my way out of the box. Now, back to my (wine) tasting, tasting, tasting.
Peace, love, and all things on life's plate - and in life's glass - right now!
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All entries are strictly observations from my point of view. This blog is not intended as professional commentary on travel, wine, food, or any other subjects I discuss - it is for entertainment, an online journal, for my friends, family, and anyone interested in my stories or journey in general.
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