With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo
New Beginnings
When the bell rings for my last class before Culinary Arts, I’m out the door with the quickness. I want to get there before any of the other students. By the time I arrive at class I’m out of breath and huffing, but I still make sure not to slam the door behind me.
Chef Ayden looks up with a start when he hears my heavy breathing. I can’t read the look on his face. Inscrutable, Ms. Fuentes would call it.
“Emoni, long time.” Chef Ayden closes his laptop with a soft click. He stuffs his hands into his soft, checkered chef’s pants. “We missed you last week.”
“I just . . . I’m not a quitter. I didn’t understand why you were asking me to throw away food or follow the recipe exactly even though my instincts told me it would taste better differently. I didn’t get it. But I think I do now. And I wanted to say . . .”
What did I want to say?
Chef waits. The moment stretches into the yard beyond awkward and enters the goal post of embarrassing. He raises his right eyebrow.
I clear my throat and I know my face is burning. “I wanted to say, I promise to work hard. To try my best to follow directions. Because I think about creating food all the time and even though I know a lot . . . I can learn more. I went to a restaurant over the weekend; the head chef says she knows you? It was Café Sorrel. Seeing her in her coat, and tasting her food, it not only made me realize I want to keep getting my technique down in this class, it made me realize I can be like her one day—an executive chef.”
Chef doesn’t say anything. He just keeps blinking at me with his head cocked. My chest deflates. I don’t think he can kick me out of class, not with only four absences. But I also don’t want him to hate me. I swallow back a knot that collects in my throat. Look down at the long metal table where we present our dishes. I missed being in class, and I didn’t know how much until this moment.
“Lisa is an excellent chef. I’m glad you were able to try her food. As for your absences, we’ve been looking for someone in class to lead the fund-raising campaign for the trip to Spain. One day you might own a restaurant, or be head chef, and honing your leadership skills now will be useful. Would you like to head that committee?”
I hear everything he’s saying, but it’s like each piece of information is a bit of colored glass and I need hold it up to the light to see how it shines. Chef Ayden isn’t angry with me. Chef Ayden thinks I could own or be head chef of a restaurant one day. Chef Ayden wants me to lead a fund-raising committee.
I’ve seen chefs on TV time and time again say they had to pay their dues. And I never knew exactly what that meant but now I think I get it. It’s about doing the grunt work behind the scenes, washing dishes, folding napkins, taking stock, before you ever touch a recipe. It’s about being the creative mind behind raising a shit-ton of money so you can go on a trip abroad.
I hold my hand out. Chef looks at it and shakes it, super serious.
He pats me on the shoulder. “You’ve got what it takes, Emoni. I don’t doubt that if you keep yourself focused and your knives sharp, you’ll be running a kitchen one day. I won’t treat you any different from anyone else just because you have something special, but let’s both take a moment to acknowledge that you’ve got what it takes.”
I put on my jacket, my scarf, and my game face. I’ve got what it takes.