I’m not a chef, but I do spend a lot of time with professional cooks.
I work in a restaurant several nights a week and I like to show up early and take a few minutes of my off-the-clock time getting my bearings and observing the day’s activity in the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of coffee and watch the guys prep fish, squish hundreds of roasted potatoes, or pluck leaves of mint for what will become salsa verdes for the night’s service. It’s in these little moments of observing the pre-game prep, that I learn the big lessons about cooking.
Most servers don’t care for this sort of sideline observances. Maybe that’s why the chefs and prep cooks don’t mind as I watch them slice up chickens or brine pig’s heads. I have pretty good radar for annoyance, so I’m able to disappear the moment I see a flicker of irritation on a chef’s face.
In hanging around chefs, I’ve picked up lots of great tricks. But despite all the time I’ve spent with these men and women in chef’s whites, I haven’t been able to get over my irrational fear of unknown ingredients and certain culinary techniques. One challenge I had to recently overcome is my ridiculous fear of leeks.
While most people eagerly snatch up bundles of leeks, I would walk past and pretend I didn’t care for them. I even feigned ignorance of this vegetable’s power to inspire culinary hysteria across France. I was that scared. But thanks to my wonderful friend, Leah and her You-Can’t-Screw-This-One-Up Potato and Leek Soup Recipe, I finally had myself a leek epiphany.