10 Lessons from Spending a Summer in a Restaurant Kitchen

a summer lineup of rose jpeg.jpeg

I spent the last three months completely immersed in the world of fine-dining. Days were spent mixing, chopping, baking, and preparing to perfection all of the components for each of the nine desserts on the restaurant’s ever-changing menu. As the sun faded, the hum of the dining room got louder and orders would begin pouring in. I began to listen for the soft click of the ticket machine, rhythmically announcing order after order and the team moved around our station as some sort of kitchen waltz, placing quenelles of ice cream and pieces of pie on plates, careful not to bump into each other thus interrupting the rhythm of the night. And then, just like that, it would all come to a halt. The night was over, the last table had been served, and it was time to clean up and go home, only to return again in 12 hours for another performance.

I have been a home cook and baker for the past 10 years, a serious study of the craft for the past 5, and an actual culinary student for the past 2 years. Regardless of my experience, I was nervous when I stepped in that restaurant kitchen in the beginning of May. I wasn’t sure if I was tough enough to hack it in an actual restaurant kitchen or if I had the skills that I needed to be successful. But, as the summer wore on, I began to gain my footing and find my place. My confidence increased with each day, and as I made recipes time after time, I started to view myself as a professional. I began to think about ways that I could apply all that I was learning in my own home kitchen, and how I could use these foundational principles and skills from the restaurant to help inform and educate other people, to help elevate our home cooking and broaden our culinary expertise.


All of that being said, here are 10 lessons that I learned from a summer spent in a restaurant kitchen.

  1. Get yourself ORGANIZED.

    Every day when we came in to work, the first thing that we did was create the day’s prep list. We went through our inventory, taking note of how much of each component we had, how much we would need for service that night, and throwing away anything that was no longer at its best. We then tackled each prep item, making sure that projects that would take the longest were completed first. No time was wasted and everything was completed efficiently and correctly. In my home kitchen, I often think about what needs to be done first, but because I don’t usually make a list or a plan, it is easy to get side-tracked. Having an organized plan helps to ensure that time and ingredients in the kitchen are not wasted.

  2. There is a sweet and important balance between creativity and efficiency.

    My favorite part of the summer was watching our executive pastry chef and sous pastry chef work together. One was an out-of-the-box thinker, coming out with ideas of how to use different ingredients in ways that no one else would ever think of. The other, a classically-trained pastry chef with experience managing large-scale bakeries, brought strong technique and pastry knowledge. You always hear that baking is science while cooking is art, but this summer challenged that notion for me. When the technical foundation is strong, there is an art and finesse that takes place in the pastry kitchen that is absolutely beautiful (and delicious)!

  3. There is no use crying over curdled anglaise. or burnt jam. or too-hard caramel.

    Mistakes happen. And that’s a good thing. If we never messed up, we would never get better or find out that something just doesn’t work. My first week, I was petrified of making a mistake and looking unqualified. (Which was very silly because mistakes were inevitable.) I quickly realized that even the executive pastry chef made mistakes and had recipes turn out badly and that messing things up is all part of the growing process.

  4. Let seasonal produce inform your recipes and menus.

    I was spoiled this summer. We had a full garden on property, access to the best and freshest produce, and all the berries I could dream of. Going into my externship, I definitely veered toward the chocolate/caramel kind of dessert camp, but I quickly learned the beauty of allowing what is growing outside to inform your desserts. There really is nothing better than eating a just-picked peach over a trashcan, juice dribbling down your chin. It takes an amazing amount of talent to create dessert components that elevate and support your peach, rather than cover it up. Figure out what is growing where you live, browse the produce aisles of your grocery store or farmer’s market, and let your findings inform your desserts.

  5. Think outside the box.

    Something that sets restaurant chefs apart from home cooks is the willingness to try anything in the spirit of innovation. One of the most delicious bites that I had this summer came from a dessert that was in the recipe-development stage at the end of my externship. A component of the dish was corn caramel. Not caramel corn, but caramel made with the milk that comes from scraping and squeezing out a corn cob. It was ridiculously good. And it was something I would never have thought to do on my own. I learned that herbs and vegetables have a place on the sweet side of things and that sometimes, the best ideas are the ones that are the most unexepected. (But remember, they won’t all work and that’s okay. - see lesson #3)

  6. Embrace the multi-component dessert formula.

    Before working in a restaurant, I would often wonder to myself what set these fancy, plated, restaurant desserts apart from my regular, at home, party desserts. TEXTURE. Each dessert on our menu had components that played with different textures and flavors. Something crunchy, something soft, something cold, something warmer, something salty, and the list goes on. Now, when creating new desserts at home, I will remember what I learned about layering flavors and textures. Instead of just making a cheesecake, can I add a candied nut, a sorbet or ice cream, a sauce that will take my cheesecake from good to great?

  7. There are not many things that an immersion blender or a chinois can’t fix.

    Remember how I said that mistakes happen? Well that’s true, but I also learned that many mistakes can be fixed with the right tools. A lumpy pastry cream? Immersion blend it. Little pieces of egg shell in your anglaise? Strain it through a chinois. Something just doesn’t look right? I would recommend immersion blending and straining before you throw it away and start over. These are miracle tools in the pastry kitchen.

  8. Explore as many different areas of the kitchen as possible.

    Before I started pastry school, I never imagined that I would enjoy making plated desserts. I liked ultra-simple American classics- brownies, cookies, muffins. Then, when I started culinary school and took my first breads class, I dove head first into doughs. I loved how precise and scientific, yet how tactile and romantic the whole bread making process was. As I continued to move through my studies, I found that I really enjoyed all of the components and artistry of plated desserts. I also found that I loved the blank canvas that cake decorating provided me. The moral of the story is, you never know what you will fall in love with until you try it. And you also never know when you will need to hand-temper chocolate in a pinch, so it’s important to diversify your skill set.

  9. Master a few, ultra-important, crowd pleasing classics.

    The foundations are important. One of the most popular desserts on the menu was a dark chocolate soufflé. My pastry chef worked hard to create a recipe that was sustainable for restaurant service and rose beautifully every time. Night after night, people would come up to the kitchen to sing the praises of the soufflé, or as many called it “the chocolate pudding thing”. Something as simple as a soufflé, when done excellently, makes a lasting impression. Make sure that your pie crusts is flaky, your cake layers are moist, and that your souffles always rise.

  10. Don’t forget to dance.

    Each day when we got to work, we would clock in, get our tools, tie our aprons and my pastry chef would ask the most the important question of the day. “What are we listening to today?”. We spent the summer mixing, stirring, and grooving to everything from soul classics to Israeli hip-hop, and the kitchen transformed from a scary and slightly intimidating space to a place that began to feel like home. At the end of the day, developing recipes, creating things with your hands, and feeding people brings so much joy. You can’t help but dance.


1- blueberry picking with the pastry team; 2- garden blueberries and blackberries picked just before service

* the exceptionally stunning photo of all of the rose was taken by my cousin Flora-Wellness. She makes the best cocktails and herbal concoctions and takes the prettiest pictures around. You can follow here @florawellness.

Making Desserts in the Mountains- Part 2

My husband says I’m like a squirrel. Small, fast-moving, fierce but in a cute way, and exceptionally jittery. I often think of myself as a strong, independent woman, that maybe if I project that image through my words, some of it will transfer to my brain and my heart. But I spend a lot of time acting out of fear, fixated on all of the things that could go wrong. 

I went hiking by myself this week. I laced up my sneakers and set out to explore a little of the Knoxville nature scene. I spent much of the incline with my eyes fixed on the ground, darting back and forth, keeping watch for snakes, literally jumping every time I heard a rustle in the brush around me. I thought about how often I move through life this way. So fearful about the danger that could be lurking in each step that I take, petrified that one wrong move will be my downfall, that I miss all of the little things dotting the trail alongside me. What a silly way to approach life. And what a selfish way of thinking, to focus inwardly, as if my life is all about me and my safety- so fearful of the dreams and desires that are in my heart and any risk of failure. 

I had a few challenging days at work this week. I was anxious about proving myself capable and constantly worried about what everyone was thinking of me. As I continued climbing, these thoughts swirled in my head, my brain steadily processing the emotions of the week and maybe it was the stillness of the woods or the morning spent alone with my thoughts, but I began to gain a little more clarity.

As my shoulder muscles loosened and I began the descent down the rocky terrain, I stopped only keeping watch for snakes and began hiking with a little more purpose. The path was slippery and my footing much more shaky than on the incline, but I began to gain a little more confidence in each step. I started to notice the gentle breeze rustling the leaves around me and providing a much needed reprieve from the heat. I noticed the little snails, inching along planks of muddy wood and butterflies with bright blue vibrant wings, sailing through the air with confidence and no particular destination in mind, and I was reminded of the lilies. The words of Matthew, echoing in my head, “How much more then will your father care for you?”

My purpose is not wrapped up in myself. I don’t have to be jittery and fearful of each step, because I am strong. Not because I’ve muscled up enough strength on my own, but because He will not let my foot slip. 

 I think I’m still a squirrel, but hopefully, with each day that passes, I become one that is defined more by her friendliness and hard-working nature and less by her skittishness. 

On the pastry side of things this week, I learned a little more about the way things work in a restaurant kitchen. I practiced creating prep lists and managing my time so that everything was ready to go by the time service began. I also learned that mistakes happen in every kitchen and that even professional pastry chefs overfill pie shells or end up with gritty custard. I made flourless chocolate with the most luxurious cake batter, squeezed the juice from approximately 40 limes, and learned how to make sprinkles from scratch (they are easier than I thought!).

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?[a28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”

-Matthew 6: 25-34

P.S. When I asked the woman at the trailheads about which path I should take, I told her I was looking for something moderate, maybe just a mile or two to explore. She pointed to the ridge and said Tthis one is challenging, but the views are worth it”. How true is that. Sometimes, I’m so tempted to take the moderate path, the one with challenges and difficulties and outcomes that I think I can control. But the views on the difficult path -they are so worth it. 

Making Desserts in the Mountains -- Part 1

This week has been a whirlwind. After a 10 hour road trip up I-75, I made it to Eastern Tennessee where I will be spending the next 3 months, completing my externship in one of the most highly recognized and awarded kitchens in the Eastern U.S. What a dream! What a challenge! What an adventure! This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and as thankful and excited as a I am to be here, doubt and anxiety definitely had their place this week too.

I began the week in orientation, where I toured the property, got my new chef coat (which is very official), and began to get acclimated with my new home away from home. For me, this was the easy part. I’ve had new jobs many times before and it’s not very scary to sit at a conference table and listen to someone explain benefits. The kitchen, though, is a different ball game. As comfortable and at home as I am in my kitchen, I have never worked in a restaurant before, much less one of this caliber. I was afraid that I would stick out like a sore thumb, that everyone would know that I didn’t belong, and that possibly, the last two years I spent in pastry school was all for nothing. Luckily, none of that has happened yet. The people on my team are so kind and patient, each of them going out of their way to answer my litany of questions and make me feel like I belong.

The restaurant I’m working as seen from the back of a moving golf cart.

The restaurant I’m working as seen from the back of a moving golf cart.

I spent the week working late into the night- making pound cakes, separating eggs, slicing enough garden strawberries to feed a small army. I learned how to plate the desserts on the menu, used an actual fryer for the first time (and didn’t burn anything!), practiced forming quenelles, and picked fresh flowers each night for plating. I also had to remake recipes, got the ticket system mixed up more than once, and felt a bit like an outsider at times.

I thought that I had stepped out of my comfort zone two years ago when I left teaching to pursue a career in the culinary world, but that was a little baby step compared to the leap that I took this week. Of course, I am looking forward to improving my skills in the kitchen- to mastering the ticket system and being able to make quenelles that are pretty enough to go on the plate, but I am also looking forward to learning a little more about how to handle difficult and challenging situations. I am learning that I have to break myself of my need to be perfect. For years, I was so comfortable being the teacher. I was the one with the answers, the one who didn’t need to ask questions, and I liked that. My personality and perfectionism loved being the teacher. But now, more than ever, I am the student and, if I am being honest, that is difficult for me at times. I am learning that it's okay not to have all of the answers, to learn from people who know better than me. I am looking forward to the personal and professional journey that this summer is shaping up to be.

Our spring dessert lineup.

Our spring dessert lineup.

When I’m not working, I have spent the last week tagging along with my cousin Meg, who is an herbalist, small business owner, forager, and maker of great cocktails. I have gotten to be her little assistant at two local markets, picked honeysuckle and wild roses, and organized boxes and boxes of product. It’s been a great week getting settled here in Tennessee and I can’t wait to see what other adventures are coming my way.

Me and the cute little Italian truffle dogs they breed and train on property.

Me and the cute little Italian truffle dogs they breed and train on property.