Day 25: The fear of the new (kitchen)
I’m meant to be starting at a new kitchen. But only if I can prise my fingers off the steering wheel and get up the courage to walk through the front door.
I CAN’T LET go of the steering wheel.
Today is Day 25 of the 100 Day Chef Stage, and I’m meant to be starting at a new kitchen.
But only if I can prise my fingers off the steering wheel and get up the courage to walk through the front door.
Right now, I am frozen to the spot.
From the car, I see right into the kitchen. A row of chefs, hard at work, heads down, filleting fish, a few wear tall white chef hats.
La Finca, where I’m due to start today, is a one star Michelin restaurant, led by Susi Diaz, one of Spain’s finest chefs, and a judge on the Spanish version of Master Chef.
So far, on this 100 Day Chef stage I’ve had a taste of what chef life is really like, amongst other things I’ve learnt how to cook paella and how to avoid chopping my thumb off. Both of which are very handy to know.
And I’m sure I will learn more today, if only I can let go of the steering wheel.
Starting something new is always scary but it’s also something I seek.
I enjoy testing myself like this, whether it’s fighting at an Olympic Games, climbing a mountain or entering a new kitchen.
Stepping out of your comfort zone takes courage, but this courage is rewarded ten-fold as you expand knowledge and ability. It forces you to grow. I enjoy the self-discovery and sense of achievement.
It’s fun to break from the norm. I love that feeling of excitement, of good nervous energy. It feels like you are living life, rather than robotically going about your day. Without new goals lined up, I find life can become routine, and lack zest.
All of which I'm trying to remind myself. But knowing the theory is one thing. Putting it into practice, well - that’s a whole different ball game. I’ve felt this tension many times before, I’m sure you have too?
What on earth am I doing here? oscillates around my nervous system, bouncing along in time with Who am I kidding? and a chorus of Why did you say you would do this?
What I don’t know is just in a few minutes time … Chema (one of the restaurant directors) will drive into the car park space beside me.
‘Hola,’ he will say, smiling the warmest of smiles, ’You must be Nik. I’m Chema, shall we go in?’
And we will walk in to that huge, scary kitchen to be met by the friendliest, most down to earth chefs you can imagine.
What I don’t know is just in a few minutes time … Chema will take me over to the pastry section - “we thought you might like to start here?” - and I will soon be making ice cream.
And suddenly my Monday morning will be looking rather quite delicious.
I will learn how to make savoury white asparagus ice cream, using a white asparagus cream, sweetened with dextrose. Dextrose, as well as being 20% less sweet than sucrose, helps to impede the formation of ice-crystals.
At this restaurant they specialise in ice-cream, with head pastry chef Jean-Luis having developed 22 flavours, including the likes of green pea ice-cream (paired with arroz negro, black rice) as well as the more traditional; fig, date, lime etc.
I’ll be shown how to use a Pacojet, a top of the range ice-cream maker which costs around £7,000 but makes the smoothest, creamiest ice-cream I’ve ever tasted, it’s blade micro pureeing the ingredients to create ultra-airy textures.
And I’ll be thoroughly enjoying myself, and who wouldn’t?
All this sits in my immediate future but right now I’m blind to it.
Right now, I’m caught up in self-doubt.
Right now, I’m scared.
You know, the usual duo that comes along to trip you up? Inadequacy, am I going to be good enough?, and insecurity, I don’t feel like I’m going to be good enough.
Allowed free reign in your head, these two beliefs will work havoc, and cause a chaos of negative emotions for your body to deal with.
Right now, I feel so far away from my comfort zone, that I can almost laugh at the absurdity of it all.
What’s a girl from a small village in Berkshire, England doing about to walk into this Michelin restaurant in Spain?
My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
But at just that moment, a car pulls up beside me and someone knocks on my window.
Hola, says the man, and smiles, the biggest of smiles. You must be Nik. I’m Chema, shall we go in?
And just like that I’m through the front door.
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Olympian Kitchen is written by Nicola Fairbrother MBE, 8th Dan, Olympic silver medallist.
More about my work and me. I’m Nicola Fairbrother. I’m a double Olympian (Barcelona 1992 Silver and Atlanta 1996 5th), light-weight World Champion (1993), triple European Champion, voted by Sunday Times as Sportswoman of the Year and awarded a MBE by HM The Queen. I publish a range of children’s judo books (Koka Kids) and run another substack delivering judo coaching resources. I’m a trained chef (Leiths Professional Diploma) and have completed a 100 day chef-stage in Spanish Michelin kitchens.
Thoroughly enjoy reading these. Not for the food- though each one gives me something new. I enjoy them because of the emotional experience you share on the journey: extremely relatable- thanks Nik
Estaba rico hasta de desayuno 😋