Black 31

Here I am on my birthday with my Black 31 presents. Here's to you Uncle Joey

Today is Halloween and, although it's a night of partying for many people, or spooky and sugary traditions for others, I am not bothered that I have to work this evening. As a child, due to time and other engagements, there were only a couple of times where I got dressed up and went trick or treating. Although it is a sad predicament now, it was just the kind of upbringing that made me, a kid, value the holidays. It's not always about the presents and prizes, but the food and the people and family around you. In the past five years, I've spent time with the most influential people in my life, whom I call family. And my family isn't just parents and siblings, but my culinary family, too.

Where I worked, the summer months were always the hardest because, well honestly, I was working at the Diner. Doing catering after catering while running a restaurant with a Marine at the head is like going through cooking boot camp every single day. And at the ripe age of 18, Billy D turned me into a make-it-happen machine. No matter how big or small the job, we always made it happen while putting out the best food. He was like a father pushing me daily to be better and work harder. He pushed me to get my Bachelors Degree and work for his brother, Chef Uncle Joey Desimone, whom, when I first met, snapped a picture of me in my Santa hat and said I'm going to make you famous.  Two years after that notorious picture, I spent Thanksgiving in Los Angeles and Christmas in San Francisco, working with Uncle Joey and the rest of the crew and making my dreams, of cooking for some of California's best chefs, a reality.

Year after year, my families have slowly changed. It has grown, like being a part of Kikko's family holiday traditions (where I'll be joining again this year), while others have left me with only the memories and legacies of the greats, like Uncle Joey now. Since his passing, I haven't been able to write without it being all about him. He was a hero to me because of how much my culinary Dad, Billy, looked up to him.  Life goes on through thick and thin and, sometimes, the only thing you can do is to keep living the dream.

Now, just two days after my twenty third birthday, I am reminded by how many different families I have, all over the United States, as I go through my birthday wishes I've received through Facebook or texts. I am blessed to have so many families, all by many different passions but always brought together by food.  Over the next two months, I encourage you to celebrate with the families you have around you and remember the joy and festivities you get to take part in with others during the Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons.

Keep living the dream,

Hines

Great people come and go, but their spirits remain

A week ago yesterday, an unfortunate event, one of true sadness, occurred in the lives of Kikko and Hines. Truly more so for Hines, his mentor, great friend, his hero passed away in a terrible accident and it has shook the world of culinary and Facebook. I will, however, let Hines pay him homage of his own, in his own time. For now, I wanted to share a story of my own hero, or heroin, for that matter.

My mom has been gone for about a month or two already. We all knew grandma, or "Batian" was soon leaving us as she had been suffering from esophageal cancer for a while. I had been babysitting in the hot summers day, days before band camp started, and I was on my way home. As I looked at my driveway, I saw my dad's car, an unusual event as he was to be at work. When I get inside the house,  he looked at me and said, " I am going to Brazil. Your grandmother just passed away". He had been on his computer looking for the next flight to my home country, in hopes to be with my mother as fast as he could. My sister and I, having band camp, couldn't afford to leave, so we were staying at a friend's house until my parents returned. I remember feeling very vulnerable and in disbelief. I talked to my mom for a few minutes before she broke down and had to hang up. I was alone. I didn't enjoy the feeling, but I knew I had to be good, to be a big girl. I never truly cried once. 

Batian was the only one who seemed to understand me. Love me and care for me while others tended to show otherwise. She always played with me when  my sisters ignored me, and she always supported my random crafts even though they were useless. I always loved her from the bottom of my heart, even though I only saw her once a year or so. She was so little and fragile, and yet, you would never see her sitting around doing nothing. She was an inspiration to me. No matter what life hands you, you keep on working. 

The first time I was able to visit her grave was a year and a half after she passed away. I wasn't sure how I would feel. We made it a trip with the whole family to pay our respects.  That was the first time I cried. I had visited that cemetery so many times for my grandfather, but nothing so emotional as that moment had ever occurred to me. I was a wreck. No one, not even me, could understand why I was so upset. Until now. 

I never got the closure I wanted with her when she passed away. I was hundreds of miles away, unable to do anything for the woman who had inspired me to be strong. She was my hero. Seeing the grave with her name on it made it concrete that she was truly gone. 

Memories are a funny thing. They can bring you so many emotions of different forms. They can cause you to suffer, laugh, become mad, smile, or even bring you to a deep thought. As I sat around this week, feeling for Hines, I also remembered my loving Batian. She was one of my inspirations to cook, and if I am right, same for my mother. It's a wonderful feeling, watching a woman in your life cook for the entire family, making so many wonderful goodness and do it out of the joy of her heart. She never had culinary training. She never went to school for an extensive number of years as my sisters and I had, and yet she was one of the smartest person I had ever met. I wish, sometimes, she was still alive to be able to see me cook, be able to taste what I can make now. I just hope that she is proud of me, that's all. 

Everyone has a hero, the one who convinced them to do their best every single day. Mine was my grandmother and I miss her. Although the times are passing, I like to share a few words of wisdom with all. 

-Remember to show your love and enthusiasm every day. You never know who you are inspiring.

-Be yourself. Don't let others change your attitude because that's the environment you are in. 

-Do what you love. Don't settle for something you aren't ready or excited to do. Life is too short. 

-and last but not least, "WORK HARD AND PLAY HARDER."- Uncle Joey

Kikko