Food for Thought

I applied for a couple of positions at the branch of Whole Foods that's about to open at Noe and 24th, thinking that working there would be a convenient way (I live just down the hill from the new location) to buy myself some more time to network and find the kind of career I actually want. Plus, one of the positions was for a cheesemonger, and how cool would that be? I even wrote up a cute cover letter about how I've been a huge fan of their company ever since I first pushed one of their kid-sized carts up the tiny aisles of their original store in Austin.

Well, it turns out that B.A. in English does not qualify you to stock shelves at a grocery store. I got the second of two rejection emails last Friday, and, even though I sort of suspected it was coming, reading that second was quite a blow--a sucker-punch, really--to my ego. I was initially puzzled as to why this particular rejection cut me so deeply (after all, I've weathered a lot of rejections in the past thirteen months), but I've concluded that I had just started to realize how much I care about food and had been hoping a job at Whole Foods would be a tiny step forward in pursuing that interest.

Now, I don't want to be a chef or a farmer and I don't want to open a restaurant, which is part of the reason I've had such a hard time figuring out that this interest in food could potentially be a career path. (Full disclosure: I would like to own a restaurant, but only if it was a coffee shop/ bakery attached to a super-cool bookstore with a garden in back-- sort of Book People and Explore Books meet the East Side Cafe and Tartine. There would also have to be a bookstore cat. And maybe also an art gallery.) But, as I sat on my bed nursing my bruised ego, it finally occurred to me that I could work on what I guess you could call the Michael Pollan end of the food world. It's actually a little embarrassing that this possibility didn't occur to me sooner. Not only do I cook at least four nights a week, but my family owns a bison ranch that's all about sustainability, my mom has been super-into food for as long as I can remember (which is how I came to be so familiar with Whole Foods in the first place), and I even wrote my college application essay about cooking and how it brings people together. Moreover, I've always loved farmers markets, urban farms, and community gardens, and am constantly on the lookout for articles like these about food and farming.

I mean, duh. Of course I should be looking for jobs that have to with food.

So, if I ever get regular access to the internet again, I will definitely be looking into food jobs, as well as the graduate programs at The University of Gastronomic Sciences, the Slow Food movement's university. Frankly, taking classes on the social history of food, slow food on film, culinary techniques, and gastro-writing as a candidate for a Master's in Food Culture and Communication sounds like a lot more fun than stocking shelves anyway. So, Whole Foods, it was definitely your loss and my gain. Ha!

Adventures I've had while waiting for full-time employment

(Sadly, I have not received free coffee, donuts, or soup.)

Adventures in the Mission:

• Gone on a mural tour.
• Eaten the best and most creatively flavored ice cream of my life.
• Participated in the spontaneous block party, complete with dancing in the street, popping champagne, and embracing complete strangers, that erupted when Obama won the election. (Also very cool: On November 5, approximately 70% of the student body at Mission High School appeared to be wearing some sort of Obama t-shirt or pin or carrying a newspaper with his image on it.)
• Survived the bajillions of illegal fireworks set off on the 4th of July (and, since it was the Mission, also the 3rd of July and the 5th of July).
• Watched the Carnaval parade, which happened to take place on my 23rd birthday.
• Gone to a climbing gym with my roommate, who makes bouldering look easy. (It's not.)
• Discovered the free farm stand and not one, not two, but THREE secret gardens. (No links because they're secret.)

Adventures on Public Transportation:

• Been applauded by the entire bus upon finally catching it after a three-block chase (the 49).
• Received free transfers (for the 48 and the 14).
• Witnessed two fights (BART) and one arrest (also BART)
• Finished up my cross-town move in the middle of the Folsom Street Fair (the California Street cable car and the 49 bus). Traumatizing.
• Overheard a 30-something couple break up on the seats directly in front of me (the 48 bus).
• Transported the following home-cooked food via various modes of public transportation: chocolate chip cookies, a strawberry-peach pie, queso, pasta with cherry tomatoes and proscuitto, chocolate cupcakes with Bailey's frosting, and olive oil salt bread. Carrying food on the bus is a good way to make friends, especially if you're taking the 48.

Adventures with Famous People and Fancy Stuff:

• Been an extra in a friend's Scary Cow-funded film. Once she becomes a big-deal director, which she will, look for me in the party scene of the yet-unnamed project. I'm the one who directs the drunk girl to the kitchen.
• Sampled so much fancy chocolate I can't believe I don't weigh at least 400 pounds. Highlights include a bacon chocolate bar (don't knock it 'til you've tried it), camel's-milk chocolate, sheep's-milk chocolate, goat's-milk chocolate, pistachio-chile bark, sea salt caramel chocolates, chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, blue cheese truffles (again, surprisingly tasty), rosemary chocolate, and many, many more. All this thanks to the incredible generosity of Cady and Jack at Chocolate Covered, San Francisco's finest chocolate store.
• Seen and/ or met Michael Chabon, Alice Waters, Dave Eggers, Amy Tan, Sam Mendes, Maya Rudolph, John Krasinski, Neko Case, Michael Pollan, Harold McGee, and Gus Van Sant (all thanks to 826).
• Made friends with people even cooler than those listed above.

Adventures Related to Jobs:

• Learned to write fantastic, if (so far) ultimately ineffective, cover letters.
• Tutored some amazing kids.
• Become a pro at fixing copy machines and alphabetizing files.
• Started this blog!

Hearing my own thoughts on public radio

One of my absolute favorite things to do is listen to NPR, usually "All Things Considered," as I cook dinner. There's something inexplicably wonderful about learning what's going on in the wider world as your own world contracts to contain just you and the clove of garlic you're pressing, the cheese you're slicing, or the pasta you've just spilled all over the stove.

This evening, as I was starting to bang pots and pans around (the apartment's short on storage, so most meals begin with a ruckus as I try to pull the correct cooking implement out of our cabinet), I was surprised to hear a story by Firoozeh Dumas about something that's been bothering me for a long time. She was talking about her teenage son's quest for employment and how he's been rejected from everywhere he's applied. Fine, she says, but why couldn't any of the employers be bothered to write him an email telling him they've hired someone else? 

I couldn't agree more. Possibly the single most dispiriting thing about this whole search process has been the silence from the vast majority of employers I've contacted. Usually, after submitting an application online, I feel lucky to get a system-generated email informing me that my application has been received but I probably won't hear from anyone at the organization due to the number applicants. What's more demoralizing is when I don't hear anything at all. No news is not good news. It means you can't ever quite get that job out of your head, while also making you feel that your life isn't worth the 30 seconds it takes for someone to send a form email thanking you for applying, informing you of the organization's decision to hire someone else, and wishing you luck in your future endeavors. 

I didn't even realize how much this silence bothered me until I got a signed letter from the ACLU of Northern California letting me know that they'd chosen another candidate but they wished me luck--precisely the kind of letter Firoozeh Dumas wished her son had received. 

So, to paraphrase one of my favorite Otis Redding songs, employers, I implore you to try a little tenderness, or at least a little common courtesy. We young girls do get weary.

Reason #3: Hungry? I can help.

I cook a lot. This is not an activity that initially seems related to the working world, but I think there are several connections. First, cooking requires some advanced planning. Vegetables need to be peeled and chopped; crusts need to be blind-baked; fruit needs to be blanched; etc., etc. Second, especially for baking and especially if you're a new cook, you need to be able to follow directions and pay attention to details. Otherwise, your pie crust won't come together, your eggs won't whip properly, your cookies will melt in the oven, and all sorts of other dire and annoying consequences. Third, if you want to be a great cook--not a good cook, but a great one--you need to be able to improvise and be creative. I'm not quite there yet, but I've been cooking a lot this year and I've had very few disasters and a good number successes. 

For instance, an asparagus, tomato, and avocado omelette:

Or salad with pears, feta, and walnuts:

French toast with berry compote:

Chocolate chip cookies with sea salt:

If you hire me, I'll bring the advance planning, attention to detail, and creativity I employ in the kitchen to the office. And I will also bring treats.