I cannot pinpoint the exact moment I started cooking. I know I was young, maybe as young as 7 or 8 years old. I started out helping my mother and grandmother cook. Holidays were exceptionally my favorites because they would always prepare these big elaborate meals. I always thought to myself, “what love they must have for us, to spend all day and usually the day prior preparing these meals.” I was always so appreciative and so involved in how everything was made and brought to the table. I always dreamed of having a family of my own one day and cooking for them, and maybe, just maybe, living up to the quality of the home-cooked meals I ate as a child.
I am now in my early twenties, working my way to be a chef in hopes that people will want to eat my food. Notice I said hopefully.
Well my name is Devyn. I grew up in a small town in West Virginia throughout all of my childhood. After high school, I did as I was supposed to and went to college. I started off as an education major throughout my first year and by my second year, I was a public relations major and towards the end I was in biology. I could not find my place. My passion. My reasoning behind spending thousands of dollars on secondary education. I only knew a few things at this point in my life:
1. I wanted to be happy with my career and successful.
2. I liked to cook, among other thinks like write stories, create anything on Microsoft Office (no, I’m not kidding), and I liked to be creative.
3. Family is everything.
4. I lived for “How I Met Your Mother” and “One Tree Hill”
Becoming a chef was a distant dream, completely a fantasy in my eyes. Until my parents moved to North Carolina during my sophomore year. I went down to visit many times and noticed the emphasis that they put on food. They had moved near the Outer Banks, which was always our favorite vacation spot. I started looking in to culinary school, really just as a joke. I guess just to see, if they actually existed. I found several. The closest actually being in Virgina. I had requested information and within 2 minutes, an advisor called me. I answered the phone and endured a phone interview. When the woman asked me, why I wanted to go to culinary school, I didn’t stutter or try and find the correct words, I just spoke of my passion and love for cooking. I cannot remember how long I talked or even what I said. The decision was clear. This was my passion.
I am now pursuing my dream and attending the Culinary Institute of Virginia.