Chicago, My Dinner Table
Over the past four years, food has occupied more of my mind, and has been a larger force in defining myself than anything else. I forget now what moment it was, or if there was a moment at all, that shifted my life aspirations from teaching high school English to a life devoted to food, but that shift happened nonetheless. In the following pages, I explore less the shift itself, but where it has led me: To often misogynistic, Spanish-speaking, sweaty, pork-ridden Chicago kitchens. I initially conceived of this project as the beginning of a larger body of work something akin to a book, in the vein of so many other culinary memoirists like Anthony Bourdain. I expected to write 5 chapters on various·topics and issues I observed during my time at Province, a restaurant in Chicago's West Loop neighborhood west of Downtown. I first worked at Province upon my return from studying abroad in Copenhagen, Denmark. With a couple months to kill before returning to Kalamazoo College for the spring quarter of classes, I staved off boredom by leaving my sleepy suburb of Northbrook, Illinois, and cooking for free essentially every night.
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