Shaken, Stirred, Cooked

Date: 06/10/2025

Location: Cancún, Mexico

‘‘My brain has never been a pillar of stability, or focus, for that matter. Ideas overflow like tapping a bad beer, motivation comes and goes like Dutch weather, and I’m in the eye of the storm. But this feels like a heading, a way forward.’’

Food has been in my DNA since I was a kid. Watching food shows with my family before bed, helping my parents cook dinner, I loved it. Fast forward to now, and food shapes nearly every corner of my life. It’s more than something I eat; it’s a way of communicating, a comfort, and often the compass guiding where I go next.

I’ve been a bartender for almost five years. I love it, the high energy, meeting new people every day, working alongside friends I’m honored to call family. But hospitality is grueling work. Long hours, nonstop focus, sleep schedules that vanish, dealing with ungrateful customers… It’s not for the faint of heart. Yet part of me thrives in that chaos; part of me belongs there.

Even so, the pull of food has grown stronger every day. My social media feed, filled with chefs and beautiful plates, doesn’t help. I can’t help but feel inspired to cook like that, to create flavors and moments that linger long after the last bite.

Food writing became my first outlet. Exploring meals, cultures, and personal experiences on the page gave me a way to connect with food more deeply. But writing about food is different from making it, and I can feel the itch growing stronger: I want to cook. Properly.

So here I am, entering the second half of my 20s without a clear heading. I like too many things, have too many ideas. But there’s one constant I keep returning to: food. And the thought keeps coming back, why not take a break from bartending and move into the kitchen? Why not finally learn to cook?

It’s exciting, yes, but also a bit scary. My résumé is stacked with bartending experience but thin on kitchen credentials. Starting over means starting at the bottom. My bartending skills won’t help me much here. And yet, that’s exactly what makes it thrilling—the chance to learn something completely new, from scratch.

Before I even start looking for jobs, I figured I need to answer these three questions first:

Why do I want to become a cook?
Cooking is a way of communicating, a way to show love to the people I care about. Experiencing new flavors, eating incredible dishes—it’s pure joy. I want to create that same feeling for others. I want to learn how to improvise, create, and tell stories with food.

What kind of kitchen would I like to work in?
Kitchens are intense, chaotic places. For me, at least to start, something smaller feels right, a hole-in-the-wall spot with a meaningful menu. Busy nights that are challenging but manageable, where I can grow my skills without being completely overwhelmed. I love dishes meant to be shared, food that brings people together over a table, where you keep ordering until your stomach says enough.

What are my goals as a chef?
I don’t have a concrete endgame yet. Opening my own restaurant isn’t on the horizon, at least, not yet. For now, I want to learn to cook properly, to tell stories with my dishes, and use my time in kitchens as inspiration for my writing. I want to meet people in the industry, observe, absorb, and grow.

Answering these questions has clarified one thing: this is a path I want to take. The details will come, but the desire is already here, guiding me forward.