In January of 2000, one month after getting married, I decided to finally do
something I knew I was passionate about and would love to do forever. I decided to completely change careers and
head to culinary school. At the time my husband was in the military, so we pushed through three LONG years to get me
through part-time school, with a small income. I would literally be searching for change around the house to just get gas and bridge money to get to school, and sometimes in tears because I had to miss a class.
While in school, I worked for a major corporate catering company, and for a brief time cooked for The Philadelphia Eagles. I was exhausted, but stuck through the tough times, and being the only woman in the kitchen full of men is enough to make anyone run. The
last few months before graduation, me and my husband found out we were expecting our
first baby. One semester before I was finished school, I went into early labor and was put onto bed rest in the
hospital. After my beautiful boy was born I knew after all we went through I couldn’t
leave him. So I decided to stay at home, but never got my degree. For a few years when the boys were babies I was a personal chef.
I loved being able cook and still be able to be at home with my boys.
A few years ago, when my oldest was four, he was diagnosed with a malignant
brain tumor. We were devastated. I found myself living in the hospital with my
husband, my four and two year old. I had almost zero sanity left in me, I needed something to help me get through the long
stressful days and weekends. So, I decided to just cook. The unit he was on had a mini "kitchen",
with a full size fridge, microwave, and electric pots. I cooked my heart out. The doctor would come to talk to us and he had to come into the kitchen to find us making Wine-Braised Chicken with shallots and pancetta in an electric skillet. I hardly ate, but it just felt good to feed everyone else. I decided to come up with recipes
that would bring home to the hospital, while using what I had. Cooking got me through some very very difficult times. It was nice to smell the good smells of home cooking in the hospital, rather than the smell of sick. If anyone has lived in a hospital for longer than six months you know what that smell is and never forget it.
They are now seven and five, and always try to cook the healthiest meals I can for them. It doesn't have to be extreme, just good homemade food that will be nourishing, but still fun. Life is too short... eat well, love always and never regret......
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| My hero's |
