The Seasoned Perspective: Why Life is Best Taken with a Grain of Salt (or A Bud of Black Garlic)

There is a fundamental truth in the kitchen that applies equally to the human condition: salt is the great balancer. It mutes bitterness, enhances complexity, and makes the unpalatable not only edible but deeply nourishing. In my life, "taking it with a grain of salt" isn't just a metaphor for skepticism; it is a survival strategy.

When you live as a differently abled person, you are constantly reminded of a reality that most people spend their lives trying to ignore: everyone will eventually lose some of their capacity to function. To be human is to be in a state of flux. Facing this leaves one with two distinct choices: to be perpetually angry when the world doesn’t bend to your will, or to laugh it off. I choose the latter, not out of a lack of seriousness, but because I believe in having a sweet disposition.

A Refuge in the Kitchen

My journey into the culinary world began in 1991, a year marked by a sharp shift in my family’s landscape. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, and my father, seeking stability amidst the chaos, commissioned me to be the family cook.

I dived into cookbooks as a refuge from the stresses of sickness. What began as a necessity quickly became my *raison d’etre. While I eventually attended George Brown College in my 30s—a testament to the incredible talent and rigor of that institution—I prefer to say I am not "self-taught," but differently taught." My education was forged in the heat of a family kitchen long before I ever stepped into a professional one.

The Bridge Between Math and Literature

Before the professional kitchen beckoned, my twenties were spent in the halls of the University of Toronto. I pursued a dual quest in mathematics and literature, driven by a nagging curiosity: why do some mathematicians view the arts as stupid?

I once encountered an NYU math PhD student who argued that public education ought to be abolished. It was a cold, rigid worldview that lacked the "warmth" required for true clarity of thought. I’ve come to realize that some people, despite their high-level degrees, aren't "Smart Pigs"—they’ve missed the philosophical connection between the precision of logic and the empathy of the arts.

This quest drove me to McGill, where I studied literature at the MA level, trying to understand why continental philosophy was only studied in Arts departments rather than integrated into the broader intellectual discourse of the West.

A Detour Through London

My ambitions eventually took me to London, England, where I set my sights on the world of book publishing. I gained experience at Random House and Hachette Livre, but my ultimate goal was Phaidon.

When Phaidon rejected me, it felt like a setback. However, the "grain of salt" perspective soon kicked in. During the interview process, I realised the wages offered wouldn't support a livable life in one of the world's most expensive cities. It was a classic "all’s well that ends well" moment—a rejection that was actually a rescue.

The Pivot to a New Reality

Unfortunately, a subsequent fall and an infection sent me home, marking the beginning of my life as a differently abled person. What followed was a long odyssey of testing and diagnostic uncertainty. At one point, I was diagnosed with delusional disorder—a label that, in itself, requires a grain of salt when one considers the complexities of its differential diagnosis.

Because I found physical discomfort in sitting but possessed a well-established Gastronomical Love, I channeled my energy into cooking school at GBC. Years, many doctors, and countless delicious meals later, the picture became clearer: a history of infection and naturally fused vertebrae. While I am much better today, I continue to navigate life with right-handed palsy and psoriasis.

I owe a debt of gratitude to the team at Saint Joseph's Hospital; they are kind, brilliant people who helped me navigate the intersection of psychiatry and family medicine. While the exact origin of my palsy remains a bit of a medical mystery, the care I received there was transformative.

Adaptation as Art

Because of the palsy, my process has changed. I steady my right hand with my left to type, doing the bulk of my work from my phone. If you watch my videos, you might notice a blue elastic—a tool recommended by physiotherapy to help control my functional palsy.

These are the technical adjustments of a life "differently taught." When I can afford to, I hire a square space expert to help refine my website, but the core work remains an act of adaptation.

The Joy of Daily Study

Today, while I write personal essays, paint (admittedly, not well), and appreciate music daily, cooking remains the discipline I study every single day. It is my joy and my constant.

Life, like a complex reduction, often presents us with bitter notes. Whether it’s a physical limitation, a career detour, or a family crisis, the bitterness is real. But when you approach these challenges with the right seasoning—a blend of intellectual curiosity, a bit of laughter, and a refusal to be defined by traditional paths—the result is something far richer than a "standard" life could ever be.

One day, as you age, it will also happen to you, and you can trust that there will be a team of doctors and people who love you helping you, but you need to have a raison d'etre, a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to eat.

Never ever give up ❤️