Like so many culinarians, I found belonging and sanctuary in the kitchen.

I am just one of a community of artists, craftsmen, lunatics, madmen, and misfits who Found My Tribe. We are passionate, angry, opinionated, and utterly devoted to Food and Dining in and of themselves arguably beyond notions of “customer service.” Serving Customers, though important, is debatably an (important) afterthought compared to the effectiveness and quality with which we just Make Things For People To Eat.

Our belonging is anchored by shared experiences, shared knowledge, shared idiosyncrasies and lingo, and our personal capacity and skill sets. In absence of anything else, I belong in any kitchen I am in because my knowledge, experience, skills, and ability to carry hard give me the right to belong.

“Sanctuary,” on the other hand, is different for everyone. In general, most of the cooks I know (myself included) are terminal workaholics who fall in and out of rehab constantly. We know we shouldn’t work as many hours as we do as hard as we do. We grouse and complain about hoping to get sent home early, but we’ll be first to insist that “as soon as we look away, everything goes to hell.”

The truth is that the kitchen for many of us is not just “work”- even though we’re more than happy to get paid for our labor. The kitchen is where Everything Has A Reason and Everything Make Sense, including and especially us. It’s a space where order is established and it’s an order we know and understand well. No one has to tell us what we’re there for or what our function is after a while. We can lose ourselves in the dance of a busy service, julienne celery, or rolling seemingly endless loaves of bread. We see and feel our meaning for that day in our hands.

Playboy: If life is so purposeless, do you feel its worth living?

Kubrick: Yes, for those who manage somehow to cope with our mortality. The very meaninglessness of life forces a man to create his own meaning. Children, of course, begin life with an untarnished sense of wonder, a capacity to experience total joy at something as simple as the greenness of a leaf; but as they grow older, the awareness of death and decay begins to impinge on their consciousness and subtly erode their joie de vivre, their idealism — and their assumption of immortality.

As a child matures, he sees death and pain everywhere about him, and begins to lose faith in the ultimate goodness of man. But if he’s reasonably strong — and lucky — he can emerge from this twilight of the soul into a rebirth of life’s élan.

Both because of and in spite of his awareness of the meaninglessness of life, he can forge a fresh sense of purpose and affirmation. He may not recapture the same pure sense of wonder he was born with, but he can shape something far more enduring and sustaining.

The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death — however mutable man may be able to make them — our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfillment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.

— Stanley Kubrick, interview with Playboy, Stanley Kubrick: Interviews

An enormous part of the craft of living as a baker is letting nothing feel meaningless. The recipes become rote, the work becomes monotonous, the hours feel endless and isolating, and there will always be simply bad days. I wake up pissed off and leave the winery angry and exhausted sometimes.

If you walk out of the kitchen feeling like you wasted your time, though, that is a sign that something needs to change. Your position, the job itself, your role in the industry (if you still feel a connection to it.) When you start to feel meaningless, that’s when you start to despair, and then to die.

What do I suggest when it comes to finding meaning in the kitchen? That’s personal and nothing I say will vibe with everyone, but I can say that learning to love the work for the works sake is part of it.

Fall in love with sharpening your knives. Learn to look forward to seeing the oven open on perfectly baked bread. Hold each piece of meat like you are about to bless it with your preparation. Life can never become meaningless if we insist on giving every part of it meaning.

I found mine, over time, in my “Way of the Floured Hand” and understanding that, against all the pain and horror and frustration in my life and the world, I am determined to make feeding others and giving them joy my meaning.

It never has to make sense to anyone else, though it should be something that helps or affects others- solipsism is a buzzkill. It just has to make you wake up every morning without dread and go to sleep without regret.

What will yours be?

Stay Classy,