I Had a Private Chef For Over a Year: Here's My Biggest Takeaways And How I Apply Them To My Life Today

Lots of folks talk about what it might be like to have a private chef. Maybe you've even thought about it yourself. And if I'm gonna be honest, I've often wondered what it would be like to have one myself.

And then it happened.

Honestly, I don't know of any other way to introduce this story and the lessons I learned, other than to just come out and say something like..." I had a private chef cook anything I wanted for over a year, and here's what I learned."

But I don't want to do it like that because what I learned was so far beyond culinary awesomeness; it actually made me a better human. Crazy right? I mean, at its essence, it's genuinely kinda nutty to think that I learned so dang much about life from a culinary artist.

But I did.

So how about we just dive into the meat of the story.

Pun intended.

In April of 2020, the world was in full-on pandemic mode. Lockdowns, masks, bathing in sanitizer, and fear-mongering. All with good cause because people were getting sick and folks were dying. But I'm not here to debate the pandemic or talk about what it is, was, or meant.

I'm here to talk about my personal grill master.

You see, I'm not only a fella who really likes food, but I'm also a nurse. And besides toilet paper, dry goods, and bullets, one of the most in-demand things around then and now are nurses. Lots of nurses.

Then in early 2020, the pandemic hit.

I ended up in a distant part of the world. OK, I was sent to Norway as a nurse to help with pandemic relief efforts. And part of that relief meant I kinda always needed to be "on." And to be "on," it was essential to have a warm bed (it was Norway, after all) and food.

Enter the Chef.

He was (still is) a big chef. Big as in Viking big, and when you think of a big Viking, this was him. Only his weapons were spatulas, Wolf oven ranges, and ingredients as fresh as a Nordic countryside. Mainly because most of the food I ate was from the literal countryside.

For the sake of the story, I'm gonna call him Chef Thor. Yeah, I'm changing his name, but if you saw him, you'd agree that he's a Thor. Thor knew his way around a kitchen.

Thor made me breakfast, lunch, dinner, and an evening snack 7-days a week, 365 days a year. And he (and his staff) did it each and every day for my entire 16 months away from home.

I learned a lot about the Nordic palate. Tons more about sustainable foods. And to top it all off, began to appreciate some of the finest seafood on the planet in a way that I never knew I could.

But enough making your mouth water. These are the lessons I learned.

Mis en place applies to everything in life

This is French for "everything in its place." For the Chef, it meant prepping food, getting the correct utensils he'd need, and finally making sure everything was in its place.

For me, it meant to get my shit together.

Think about it. What if you approach everyday tasks, your job, and basically your life with the mindset of "mis en place" or prepping beforehand? Wouldn't that make things smoother? Wouldn't that be a semblance of a plan that everyone so desperately seeks?

The lesson: mis en place your life.

Never follow the exact recipe

Do you know what makes great chefs great? It's that they learn the recipe, then they add flair. They add their own twist or style. In Norway, I learned to love new foods simply because the Chef added some finesse and his own genius to simple dishes.

The same applies to my writing.

What I mean is that while I write a lot, the fact is I learned from coaches and mentors. I was taught how to format, grammar, structure and then set free into the world to blaze my own Hemingway trail.

But I don't wanna be the next Hemingway.

I wanna be the first Rick Martinez. That writing nurse who brings his own style, voice, and flavor to his essays and works. In the same way my Chef turned a cheeseburger into a Viking burger, I'm gonna sling ink like only Ricky can

The lesson: Learn the recipe, then add your secret sauce.

Cooking never needs to be a chore

He seemed so happy in the kitchen.

It was more than just passion. It was as if the day melted away. You could see that all he saw was his mind and heart working in synch to create a perfect dish.

Cooking never seemed to be a chore for him.

It made me think about some of the jobs or tasks I've jumped into. And how much I disliked them. Basically, how they often felt like chores...like work...and it sucked out my energy.

Watching him made me ponder my next moves and how I wanted that same feeling coursing through my soul.

The lesson: do things that fuel you, fulfill you, fire you up. Not things that suck you're energy and life.

Taste everything

I'd walk into the kitchen pretty often.

One of the first times, I noticed a large cup filled with spoons. It sat right next to where Chef was cooking. I wondered why he had them there until the day it all fell into place.

I went in; he was cooking a stew. He grabbed a spoon, scooped out some stew, and handed it to me. It had just enough for one delicious taste, and then he tossed the spoon into the dishwasher.

Taste everything first, he said.

Don't ever put anything out until you've had some first.

While it's an obvious lesson for cooks, it's also applicable to most other things in life, especially as an entrepreneur. We call it an MVP...or 'minimal viable product.' Something we put out first to test an idea.

As a writer, we call it a minimal viable piece. Most of us test our work on Twitter to see and feel the response before writing a full-blown essay or article.

Feel me?

The lesson: taste everything. Or put another way, bullets before cannonballs.

Keep the scraps (always keep the scraps)

Nothing goes to waste.

Watching chef cook was always a delight. Not only because I was witnessing someone in their zone of genius, but also because that passion is infectious. Then there was the fact that rarely if ever, did stuff get tossed out.

The inedibles went to make compost. Extra chunks of meat went into stews. The stock went into soups and sauces for next week's dishes.

The lesson: everything had a use. EVERYTHING.

And that brings me to one of the biggest lessons I learned.

You see, I extrapolated these relatively simple concepts into all that I've learned in life. From being a father and a husband. A waiter in a steak joint and a nurse in an ER. A startup entrepreneur and a founder of an 8-figure business. What I mean is that each experience brought its own set of lessons learned.

The Chef just inadvertently taught me a new way to apply all of my own lessons in very unique ways.

Each experience, whether it was a good or bad one...failure or success...left "scraps" that I was and am able to learn from. I have grown from. And finally, I can pass them on to my children from.

Kinda like a great recipe.

But it's one of the most indulgent, delicious, satisfying concoctions I'll ever learn and pass on.

It's the recipe for living a great life.

Thank you, Chef.