Life Lessons I Learned from the Cooking Line
Nothing I can think of in the early years of my existence back in suburban Chicago could have led me—or anyone else, for that matter—to believe that the story of my life would later be transformed by a deep connection to food and cooking. Food was hardly at the center of my family’s story, and most of the food I grew up with was the opposite of what we do here at Zingerman’s.
When I started at the University of Michigan, I had no clue what I was going to do when I “grew up.” I was supposed to go somewhere like law school, medical school or maybe get a yet-to-be-determined degree at graduate school. No version of my life story back then had anything to do with Farmhouse Cheddar, First Flush Darjeeling tea or the fresh milling of organic grain.
Shortly after graduating with a history degree, I took a job washing dishes at Maude’s. My expectations were modest: to pay my rent and to have, I hoped, a reasonably good time. Within a year I “moved up” to being a line cook. Finding a whole new way of being in the world was hardly on my mind. I don’t think I even realized it was unfolding as it was. That shift, starting to cook for a living, has very literally changed my life.
The gifts that working in the food world has given me are beyond anything I could have ever imagined. American food has come a long way in the course of the 40 years since Paul [Saginaw, Zingerman’s co-founding partner] and I opened the Deli in March of 1982, becoming a small part of an American food revolution that I can see now, forty years down the road, changed how people think about, cook and consume their food. Here are five of the many ways that food and cooking for a living came together to change my life.
THE LITTLE THINGS MAKE A BIG DIFFERENCE
Too little salt and a dish will be deemed “tasteless.” Slightly too much and it will seem almost inedible. A tiny bit more caramelization on a bread’s crust can take it from good to great in a matter of minutes. Over time, I started to understand that this rings true in all parts of my life. Forty years later, I almost never take the little things for granted.
LIVE EVERY DAY WITH AWE AND WONDER
Great food gives me the opportunity to return to that childlike sense of awe. Tasting an amazing olive oil or the spicing on the fried chicken at the Roadhouse or the dark crust of the Country Miche from the Bakehouse are small pieces of wonder that I get to be part of every day at work. I get to witness the joy evoked when customers eat French crullers at the Bakeshop and see the look on the face of a candy lover biting into a Zzang! bar for the first time.
MAKE HISTORY COME TO LIFE
Working with traditional food, as we’ve chosen to do, gives me a great way to continue to study history for a living, and then, to share it with folks who might not want to learn it if they weren’t enjoying the flavor of the food so much.
HONOR AND UNDERS TAND A CONNECTION WITH THE NATURAL WORLD
Working with food taught me to really taste, touch, smell and savor. It helped me learn how to listen better to my body, to watch how birds land on branches, to take in the grace of the bees as they buzz around colorful blossoms.
STAY HUMBLE
Working with artisan food is incredibly humbling. No matter what we do, problems will happen, flavors will change, imperfections will abound, seasons will still shift. I learned a long time ago that to get dinner for six out to a table successfully requires an amazing amount of things to go as they should, and dozens of people (including me) to do their jobs well. We’re all in this together—and none of us can do well on our own.
Michelle Obama once said: “We learned about gratitude and humility—that so many people had a hand in our success.” Whatever I know, I know that I have learned because others were generous enough of spirit to share what they knew with me. And that whatever we have managed to make happen here at Zingerman’s, it is only through the gracious support of so many who were willing to purchase our products, eat our food, sip our coffee, let us host their most important events, read what we write, or learn from what we teach. Through that generosity I’m still able to continue to learn how to live a meaningful and fulfilling life, for which I will be forever grateful.
For more thoughts on how line cooking changed Ari’s life, and other essays by Weinzweig, go to zingermanscommunity.com.
