Introduction

I’m Andrew Crispin and welcome to my blog. I was born in Quincy, Illinois. A small town on the Mississippi River on the border of Missouri. It was there that I began to see things that later encouraged me to become a chef.

I remember from an early age my parents had a small strawberry farm and I used to go out on the bushes and eat strawberries, whenever fruit bearing of course. I’d make my way back into the house face stained red and deny ever taking part in such a thing. I thought it to be the coolest thing in the world that we had what I called at the time “a store in the back of our house”.

My parents grew sunflowers among other things as well. When I was younger I remembered them to be giant, as tall as skyscrapers and I’d sit for hours in between their stalks and play in the dirt losing all sense of time and reality. Having a garden definitely made me appreciate the little things in life when I got older.

My grandmothers on both sides of my family were great cooks. Both very different in their cooking styles but also very similar in the sense that they both busted their asses to feed their families. My grandmother on my fathers side was an expert in “comfort food”. She had perfected the art of baking pies and cooking everything that would stick to your ribs and warm you up throughout your day. She was the first to show me “sunny side up” eggs and I still believe to this day that no chef in this world dead or alive including myself could make them quite the way that she could. My grandmother on my moms side of the family was a phenomenal cook. She was always getting me to try a new foods every time I visited. She cooked healthy for the most part and had this way about disguising things I didn’t like in her food without me ever noticing they were there; a skill I believe most Chefs can only dream about.

Let us not forget about my mother. Having learned quite a few things from her mother, she always had new things for me to try as well. In some aspects, I was her Guinea pig. I still remember one evening she was cooking up a storm and I had invited some friends over. When dinner was ready she hollered at all of us to come join her at the table. When my friends and I got to the table there was an elegant anti-pasta salad before us as a starter followed by a rustic Tuscan penne pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, Italian sausage, & artichoke hearts. I immediately dug in because in my mind it all made sense. After a few bites I glanced over at my friends who were just staring at the table. The looks on their faces were that of a confused puppy. My mother and I explained to them what they were eating and they all respectfully declined so was my family different or were they the weird ones? I learned then that not everyone cooked the way the women in my family did first and foremost, and secondly that this entire country is in such a rush all the time that nobody sits down for a good quality family meal anymore. The food never disappointed, someone was always being poked at for something they said or did , and it was so nice to be together as a whole for a little while each and everyday.

When my parents split up our way of life changed. My mom now has to support two boys so her work load increased. We began eating out here and there and family meals began to feel like a thing of the past. My father would have us every other weekend and when we were there, I’d get to pick one meal and my brother got to pick the other one. His choice was always tacos, at that point there wasn’t a vegetable on this earth he would touch. My choice was always a little more abstract and my father had a wok so unintentional my choice always ended up Asian. My dad loved spicy foods and I had this weird brief obsession with trying to become a Tepanyaki chef so it worked out for the most part. She. We would lick what we wanted got out meals we would go to the grocery store and get whatever we needed. My brother and father always wanted to get products that advertised that they were quick and easy. I was the exact opposite. I wanted to challenge myself as much as I could. For those of you who have never used a wok before, they get extremely hot. My first attempt resulted in a collection of extra crispy vegetables paired with chicken that was black on the outside and raw in the middle.

Throughout my teens and my early 20’s I worked in different restaurants ranging from fast food to fine dining but I never saw it as a career, just something to make some money more or less. I’d cook for my friends and to try to impress girls but it was just a hobby at that time.

At the age of 23 I moved back in with my father and his wife and 2 youngest sons after a rough breakup and was pushed by my family to figure out what it was I really wanted to do. That fall I enrolled in Le Cordon Bleu Dallas and decided to pursue my hobby as a potential career.

To Be Continued….