Many years spent eating

Never dreamt an opportunity

Might arrive

To actually be an Executive Chef

Frequently studied menus

Even recipes

But beyond PB&J and tomato soup

Had never gotten a whiff

In a kitchen with real responsibility

An iron clad grip by the resident executive chef

Prevented any upstart

From trying their hand at a culinary delight

For a long time I was placated

With slicing, and dicing

Thawing, marinating

But even seasoning was beyond my pay grade

As my β€˜pinch of salt’

Seemingly was not actually the right, β€˜pinch of salt’

It was accepted by myself and others

That I would be forever relegated to the kitchen

And yet after many, many years of my tasting

Fatigue began to affect the Executive chef

Occasionally now slivers of responsibility

Drifted my way slowly

Turning the oven on, setting the temperature

Greasing the pan, determining the timer

Sometimes even meal preparation skills

Were developing

At the end of the day, in my innermost thoughts

I understood I had no intuitive understanding

Of the culinary arts

Other than what I read in a recipe

Nonetheless hunger, endless hunger

Motivated a drive to create delicious dishes

Yet even now, I accept I will never really be an

Executive chef with the responsibility of

Satisfying divergent tastes

So though I remain hopeful of upward mobility

And the perceived chance to advance from Sous-chef

I respectfully serve at the discretion of the current

Executive chef

Frank X Cameron 9/24/2020 Copyright

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