After 3 months at cooking school I’ll return home finding it hard to be anything besides sad. Today I am in Dublin and it is officially the last day of my 6-month European journey. I’m sitting in a funky cafe with only a sandwich, coffee, and my thoughts to keep me company. Immediately what I notice missing is Anna. With the calm music and peaceful ambiance I feel like I should turn my head to find her next to me. Knowing us, we’d talk about cheese and then move on to topics that could vary from what we want out of life to the ultimate hamburger topping. Afterwards we’d return to our cottage of 11 beautiful girls and find Nicola and Sophie dancing to One Direction (a pop boy band that according to Sophie “is as big as the Beatles.”). The music definitely wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea but seeing how happy it made Sophie was always a reason to put it on. Later I would run up to Anna and Caroline’s room for my daily cuddle session. Caroline would awkwardly stare at us and so the next obvious thing to do was attack her with endless hugs. She may not have enjoyed my forms of affection but always managed to laugh her way through the discomfort. Usually then the three of us would just talk, dance, and laugh with whomever else trickled in to the room. Eventually Fionn would come in and we’d chat over coffee about whatever weird topic suited us. Then he would disappear in his mysterious way and leave all of us confused with what exactly he was about to do.
Sadly back in the cafe I realized none of that was going to happen. Anna would never come and Nicola, Sophie, and Caroline would not be gracing me with their smiles when I returned. Reality was hitting hard and it was taking every fiber of my being to resist the tears. I couldn’t say when I would see them again; I couldn’t say when I’d see anyone again. Our course of 62 students consisted of some of the most wonderful individuals I have ever met. The dynamic was unique and all of us were in completely different parts of our lives. We were of completely different ages (ranging from 17 to mid 50’s) and of completely different backgrounds. What I didn’t know was that in reality, no matter how different we were, we really were all just the same. Most apparent was that we all loved food. We also all chose Ballymaloe not just to learn how to cook, but more importantly to learn the system of cooking. What was less obvious was that we were all trying to improve ourselves, find balance, and work towards happiness in this crazy game of life. I truly feel like I left Ballymaloe with 62 new friends and I hope they all know the impact they had on my time there.
To my great surprise I began to realize that it really was the people that highlighted my time at cooking school. The food though, my sole reason for going, was why I woke up every morning anxious for the day to begin. Dressed in chef whites I would enter the kitchen at 8:30 ready to cook. If I was lucky I was on bread duty, which meant I was okay with the fact that I had to cram an extra recipe in to my already busy day. With cooking, time management and efficiency have always been my downfall. I’m indecisive and like to take my time… as you can imagine that does not fly in a kitchen. I struggled with this but I’m happy to say I have improved. The teachers are to thank for that. They were a hardworking eclectic group and each one provided a unique style of learning. From super supportive to tough love to the extremely informative I knew every day I would be gaining a new perspective on how to smell, taste, and look at my food. Their passion was always strong and seemed to amplify the energy that flowed through the kitchen. They taught me how to listen for when bread is baked, correctly fold puff pastry, feel for the texture of pasta, taste for seasoning, and present it all in an appropriate manner. They were my heroes and I cannot thank them enough for their support and wisdom.
So now my time there is done and I return home a little unsure of what exactly is to come. If I can be honest, I’m scared. I thought I would backpack to the best countries for food and then attend the best cooking school for my interests. After all that I definitely would be able to narrow down what I want to do with my life. Unfortunately now, more than ever, I feel confused from the endless avenues that have exposed themselves during my time abroad….I guess my plan kind of backfired. The truth is I feel slightly lost between two worlds and returning to the States means I have to find my way. All I can hope for is that I wont loose what I have gained these past 6 months- the food, the lessons, the places, the knowledge, and most importantly the people. I may not know what I want to do for the rest of my life, or even next, but being gone I realized there are a few things I do know:
I, Marla Victoria Gilman, love food. I love how it is your senses that experience everything when it comes to food. You touch, smell, taste, feel, and listen. I love how food brings everyone together; nothing else in this world unites people in the same way. I love how food links us to our past, present, and future. It brings back memories and always creates new ones. I love how food starts in the ground. I love the feel of dirt under my fingernails and knowing that from a small seed I can grow something edible. I even just love the fact that first you grow food, then you make it. You can make it hot, cold, spicy, sophisticated, homey. You can make it foam or ooze, sweet or savory. Best of all I love how food makes me feel. I can’t even explain it but I guess that’s what passion is all about. It’s just there inside you, captivating your mind and glowing your soul. It pushes me to be my best, to question life, and to make a difference. Food reminds me what happiness is all about. It’s like whenever I think about it, whenever the tiniest thought of anything related to food comes to mind, I can’t even contain myself from smiling.
So as I said, I may not know what job I want to do next…but I do know what makes me happy. To be blunt I don’t think many people can truly say that. So even though its been 6 months, when you see me please don’t ask if I will own a restaurant one day. Don’t ask if I will permanently stay in NY or move to Europe. Don’t ask if I want to bake or cook or teach or farm. Don’t ask because I’m still trying to figure it out. What I have figured out is that food, people, and travel make me happy…and if I become anything in life, if I strive towards one thing - its happiness.
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