When I go to my taste buds I am reminded of home. See my dad is gay, he got remarried to an Italian Mexican so I have that kind of food influence and my stepdad on this side is from China but he is also Filipino, Spanish, and Russian so we have all these food cultures that he brings. My mom is from the South and I have this southern part as well. So home for me is everywhere because I’ve tasted food from everywhere.

– Emily Thomas

Ode to the white KitchenAid mixer

As my Dad being a pastry chef and me following close behind, a mixer has forever been in my life.

The one white KitchenAid mixer that’s been in my life forever and will continue to be in my life for the rest of my life.

From the many birthday cakes I make with my Dad to the many many black and white shortbread cookies I make to sell.

From the chocolate chip cookies I make all the time to the hours and hours of Christmas baking of

sugar cookies, raisin drop cookies, Oreo balls and peanut butter balls I would make with my aunt.
That one white mixer that sits in the corner of the countertops like a rock that takes up space when unused.

But it’s not just a mixer it’s our pasta roller and cutter,
it’s our meat grinder when it’s my mom’s birthday and she wants her birthday spaghetti and meatballs.
It’s what we use to shred zucchini when I make zucchini bread for my neighbor that I’ve lived next to for my entire life.
It’s the mess I have to clean most times I bake or cook.
If this mixer could talk it would tell everyone it needs some oil because it squeaks like an old ceiling fan.

What they don’t know is how much flour I have cleaned up because of your sticky switches going higher than I needed.
In the future when they remember you, they will remember the times you stopped working which made our hearts stop working because the plug was bent and didn’t fit into the outlet properly.

As a little mixed kid growing up there wasn’t a straight set thing on what we ate. We had anything. My parents just made whatever they felt like spaghetti, pork chops, stir-fry and more. I don’t really have a home taste so I’m really open for anything.

– Kara Mendez

Ode to the Spatula

Oh spatula
It could probably do anything cutting, flipping,
tossing, grabbing, stirring, it could probably do it all.

Spatulas are always there when you need them, in the kitchen I mean.
Need to flip a burger, grab a spatula.
Making some pancakes, grab a spatula.
No clean spoons or forks around? grab a spatula.
Are the kids acting up again? use the spatula, it’s got a nice surface area.

A spatula is the hero we deserve when that darn Totino’s pizza gets stuck to the pan.
The spatula never lets me down.
That moment when my dad left me to my own devices to make pancakes,
When I was panicking wondering what he meant by

“Just look for the bubbles on top”
I gave it a try.

I grabbed the spatula and flipped that pancake whether it was truly ready or not.
It made it seem like a piece of cake, no problem for the spatula at all.
It’s sleek flatness just gently picked it up and placed it back down like the lightest feather.
Black and elegant it always sits in a holder waiting for it’s time to shine.
Of course it’s time will come, because a spatula can do everything.

I aspire to be like a spatula,
Someone everyone can rely on in times of need.
Just like we had to rely on our parents when we were young.
Where would I be without my spatula?
Probably not in the kitchen.
What would we do without spatulas?
Flip and grab things with our hands like a bunch of heathens?

No!

cookies, raisin drop cookies, Oreo balls and peanut butter balls I would make with my aunt.
That one white mixer that sits in the corner of the countertops like a rock that takes up space when unused.
But it’s not just a mixer it’s our pasta roller and cutter,
it’s our meat grinder when it’s my mom’s birthday and she wants her birthday spaghetti and meatballs.
It’s what we use to shred zucchini when I make zucchini bread for my neighbor that I’ve lived next to for my entire life.
It’s the mess I have to clean most times I bake or cook.
If this mixer could talk it would tell everyone it needs some oil because it squeaks like an old ceiling fan.
What they don’t know is how much flour I have cleaned up because of your sticky switches going higher than I needed.

In the future when they remember you, they will remember the times you stopped working which made our hearts stop working because the plug was bent and didn’t fit into the outlet properly.

My grandma in Seattle is most proud of me. Every time I visit her she buys me ingredients to make her things and leaves me in the kitchen alone; then she tries my food afterwards. My grandpa teaches me how to filet salmon. I want to prove a point that women belong in the professional kitchen just as much as they belong in the kitchen at home. I am more of a poet in the kitchen than a scientist.

– Diana Valeria Morales Cebreros

Ode to the Wok

If the wok could speak it would say “Diana,shut up!”
But it isn’t just a normal work.

It’s something I can connect to in the kitchen.
In the future when they remember you, they will see you as a kitchen utensil
but I see someone who listens when I make a delicious meal.
You’ve done so many things with me in the kitchen, it’s quite an amazing bond.
Of course my Dad has a closer bond with you but who cares.
He uses you for making authentic meals such as Carne Asada, Mexican rice and Calabacitas con queso.
That’s just crazy but trust me I will make magic happen with you as well.
You’ve been growing old with us, it’s hard to believe that you haven’t broken yet.

Your handle is a little weak due to all the times we toss you around.

I will fix that very soon.

Being the pan we use a lot, it’s hard to compare you to a typical frying pan.
Yes, you might’ve gotten a couple rust spots but hey it’s a part of growing up.

Thank you!

Thank you for the beautiful memory of my Aunt making stir fry.
I can hear the carrots and asparagus sizzling while she tosses you up and down.
It’s the way you have these curved walls that cook everything so nice and even.
Without you in the kitchen, who knows what would bring me into the kitchen.
In the future, may they remember you as someone who will always be there for when I create something new.

I’m surprised I still haven’t married you.

You’re not just only a wok but you have brought two cultures together.
You have brought both Asian and Mexican cultures in a kitchen.
What an amazing bond it’s like you created your own magic.

You Mr. Wok are typically used in more of the Asian cultures but then my dad brought you into the kitchen
and uses you to make so many different meals both Asian and Mexican foods.
Not a lot people expect those cultures to combine but thank you!
Maybe after you hear this, you will say “Diana, shut up.”
But just know that all I am trying to say is “Thank you Mr. Wok for coming into my kitchen.”

I feel more pulled towards the work kitchen than the one at home. When I’m at home I can do whatever I want but I’m not really trying as hard because I don’t have to impress my family with my food. I am just cooking so we can all eat. If I’m at a work kitchen I want people to like it because I want people to return. I am going to want complete strangers to say “Oh my God that food was delicious and we’re going to come back here again”. So I show more passion at my work kitchen.

– Tyris Trueblood

Ode to the Wok

The griddle
It’s been there for me since I was little
Four or five? Maybe longer
Been with my family since as long as I can remember

It’s been there with us through the thick and thin like my first pancakes
The griddle was my youth’s greatest riddle
Just like a USB having to flip it one too many times to get the plug to sit
The griddle is a jack of all trades and master of none

The culinary fiddle, a solid instrument favorite to it’s players and left alone by others
It’s white base and black top get everything done Bacon, eggs, meat, toast, and more

The reigning champ for making pancakes galore

The stove could work too
But no one wants to wait for the heat to transfer to the pan
Only to get burnt butter and burnt hands
It’s black top for the culinary imagination
A place where you learn pancakes shouldn’t be cooked the morning after salmon

The griddle only remains a riddle until the dialed heat becomes visible
Being short, the pancakes never cooked right the first time
I couldn’t tell what the heat was at, only that it was on
My brother came in to point it out almost ritualistic

Every Sunday morning 9:10 AM on the dot
Took over the pancakes and silently adjust
Where the second and third batch came out with that favorite food lust

While I got the bacon

The turkey bacon that sizzled never minding the heat riddle, to fill our noses
As me and my brothers debated over who said prayer
Forever underappreciated but still there
Still here, griddle without you there wouldn’t be a weekly tradition
Sunday morning breakfast would just be a bowl of cereal, no lounging in the kitchen
Pancake experiments would never have gone wrong
Although you may be put up now, the next time I make pancakes you’re the first thing I’m bringing down

You still and always will be the most useful friend of all.

The closest thing to home cooked food for me was Chipotle. Growing up my mom never cooked we were always trying these new foods. I’ve realized that I don’t have a home dish and we have opened up to all kinds of experiences.

– Diego Morales

Ode to the Old Kitchen Knife

Why you still exist?

So dull and bent,

Oh, why do we still have you?

You’ve been with us through rough times,
Oh, why do we still use you?
I can’t remember the last time you did your job right
Oh, why do we still have you?

It seems we only keep you for decoration
or when we can’t find the whisk,
or that time I burnt the biscuits and had to scratch
the coal like residue off the pan.

As I debate with my mother about keeping you
Telling her that it’s never too late to throw you away
and that you can’t create new memories with a silly knife.
Doing my best to convince her to dispose of you!

For goodness sake, I don’t like you.
You’re a burden to me.
A reminder of where we came from.
A symbol of frustration.

But wait, maybe I’m simply being naïve
You’re not a symbol of frustration and failure
but a symbol of perseverance,
A reminder of where we came from
but no longer who we are.
Just a clouded memory

Oh, why do we still have you?
Because you have always been there for us,
always there when we need you,
Oh why do we still use you?
Because you shine us with old.
Lovely memories we had growing up,
You’re a part of our family secret recipe,

Oh, why do we still have you?
Because you’re not just a simple kitchen knife,
You’re a piece of who we are,
you have been passed down from my grandmother’s mother
and now I only hope to be able to pass down the torch.

ProStart is a course designed to teach students the skills, techniques, and mindsets necessary to excel in the hospitality industry. My goal is to link our program with the community in a mutually beneficial relationship. As we are a new program, we are just beginning to build the connection to the Gateway High School and the Aurora community. If my students are able to engage in internships, shadow days, and jobs while in this program, they will be more likely to succeed upon graduation. Restaurant and food service is a massive and continually expanding industry, and these students are learning the practical skills and foundational knowledge to become leaders in the industry, which is, often times, within our community. – Sarah Field