THE KITCHEN

If I have one regret, it’s that I learned how to cook. What once felt like a passion, a gift, has become a place of frustration, even misery. The kitchen, a space I once saw as a canvas for creativity, now feels more like a battlefield.

Being a chef is often seen as glamorous, but few people understand the reality—the sweat, the strain, the constant fight against time and heat. People see the final dishes, the neatly plated meals, and assume that’s all there is. But they don’t see the cramped, chaotic kitchens, the endless hours standing near open flames, or the pressure that comes with every single order. They don’t realize that, in that sweltering heat, there’s barely a moment to breathe, let alone grab a bite to eat or a sip of clean water.

It’s not just the physical toll; it’s also the unending criticism. Every decision I make, each ingredient I choose, and the techniques I use—these are constantly questioned by people who have never felt the blistering heat of a stovetop or the exhaustion of twelve-hour shifts. They demand excellence without understanding the conditions. They scrutinize without ever experiencing the chaos that is my daily environment.

The tools I have are rarely designed for the reality I face. No proper gear to shield me from the heat, no comfortable space to move in, and certainly no kindness to soften the load. Yet, here I am, doing what I know best, giving it my all in a setting that feels unforgiving. I pour my heart into every meal, only to have my skills dismissed and my efforts taken for granted by those who can’t even imagine the weight I carry.

In this kitchen, my passion and frustration live side by side. Cooking was once a joy, a way to share a part of myself with others. But now, it has become a trial, a test of endurance in the face of constant demands and little appreciation. If I could do it over again, maybe I’d choose differently. But here I am, caught in the heat, holding on to the smallest flicker of the love I once had for this craft. And perhaps, in some quiet moment amid the chaos, I’ll find a way to rekindle that spark. Until then, I am here, in this kitchen, giving everything I have.