[All photos courtesy of Nick Occhino]

July 20th, 2017, is going to forever remain a pivotal moment in my life. It wasn’t perfect, in retrospect it was quite amateur, but it was a shift. An internal inertia turned physical reality, right in front of my face, proving something true.

I can do some really cool shit, with some really amazing people.

The one thing that I have always craved, since day one of finding this passion, was a means to translate the chaotic, incessant, overwhelming amount of fascination and love I feel for food. Beyond immature goals of becoming a “chef”, climbing the social status ladder of the industry, or finding someplace “real” to work, that has remained constant. There’s a reason for that – it’s the real, humble, and honest goal at the root of my place in this field.

Attaining a certain job title no longer has the same appeal, grande reputations of established restaurants or cities aren’t the carrot anymore; connection is. Connecting everyday people to the ingredients before them, and individuals with opportunities for expression, is what seems like a truly exciting endeavor. The night of my dinner was so incredibly invigorating and adrenaline filled not because it was mine, my food, my ideas, my night, but because of who I was performing it with. People that I’ve grown to love and care about showed up to help and support me with something that up until now was a carefully avoided dream, because it never seemed possible. It lit me up in ways I didn’t know life could.

There were moments that needed more preparation, aspects that could have been enhanced, and parts where I should have gone out to the diners to interact more, but I don’t want it to have been perfect. I want to look back, a year from now, and see growth. To be a better line-cook at my job, a better chef who plans dinners that create an atmosphere, and a better student who learns faster.

When I first started this blog, I was searching for a chance and avenue to express myself. I was past the point of “recently graduated college student”, well into my new job, and felt a nagging pull. I hadn’t created something purely of my own volition in too long, and felt myself drifting in too many directions. In some karmic cash in of good deeds, I had a mentor who trusted and believed in me enough to present me with a huge risk. A chance to jump far and beyond my comfort zone (or his, I’m sure) in order to grow, to do something big not just for myself, but for the cafe, and the food scene of where we reside as a whole.

Seeing a certain part of your story come full circle, a particular chapter ending, and a page turn, is gratifying and exhilarating. The menu for the dinner was comprised of dishes that I had already created, when I was working at my college’s restaurant, but with the additions of what I had learned in a years time. A little more finesse, a little more attention to quality, and a lot more humbleness, added up to what I like to believe was a satisfying meal. Not a spectacular one, but hopefully that will come sooner than later. Just a meal that showed one persons growth, as both a cook and an individual.

If asked to, I could flip through the pages of my worn out cooks notebook, and find versions of each course from one to two years prior. I could point out what was lacking in the first editions, which would usually be a mental or experience based flaw. The two courses that were personal favorites however, the main and the dessert, were total examples of what environment and influence can do to a person. The main, essentially coffee, bacon, and toast, was meant to thank the second Darrow I’ve been lucky enough to have as a teacher. The dessert, a combination of summertime fresh fruit, herbal gin, and everything sweet, was intended to recognize the influence of a fantastic baker boss, and ultimate grown woman goals.

Despite the kinks, mishaps, or unavoidable amateur nature of the night, I hope that everyone who attended as a diner enjoyed themselves, and want to experience another in the future. I hope that everyone who was apart of the production felt the same sort of passion and adrenaline that I did. Things need work, I need work, but I can only pray that everyone will want to grow and go further together. This shouldn’t be merely a beginning of a new chapter in my story, it should be a part of something much bigger. For the people around me, the people I have the gift of feeding, and a certain, small, city that deserves a chance at something more.

Take risks, run further, work hard for yourself – but bring others with you. The next phase isn’t as fun without them.