I love to cook. And I love to watch people enjoy my cooking, as an empty plate is the greatest compliment to the chef.
A lot of my friends ask me why I don’t go for it seriously and open a restaurant.
The truth is… I actually think about it quite often. I think I would actually enjoy it very much. In fact, cooking is one of the very few things that I know I like for sure. But it is also because it is one of the few things I like, I am afraid to fail. If I fail, what will I have left that can bring me even just a little bit of joy. I lost my previous career due to my depression and physical health. I am not sure if I am strong enough to go through it again with what I have left.
In my mind, opening a restaurant is a retirement plan. Because then, it can be purely for fun, and I don’t have to worry about the reality of it. I even have it thought out: I will open from 2-10 pm on the days that I feel like it. I will have one set item that’s always on the menu, and the rest will change monthly, weekly and daily. I will cook whatever I feel like cooking. It will be $10 USD per person, and $5 if you bring your own main ingredient. No tips but an donation box dedicated to the restaurant with an open book. Everything will be free after 9 pm, where the homeless, but also everyone is welcome. And leftovers will be left in a fridge outside that’s open to the public 24-7 with a book shelf full of books right next to it… Because food and words/knowledge are all you need to live, aren’t they?
… It is a dream of my restaurant that is also a small community center, where people can grow as they eat and as they read.
I am idealistic with a fragile heart. The wonder is if I can ever gain enough courage to do this. If not, I hope someone else will, because in my mind, it is quite a beautiful scene.