Cooks vs. Chefs Essay

I could sense my mom’s eyes rolling when Paula Deen erupted into her signature cackle on the television. Throughout the summer, as I deteriorated in insoluble boredom, the Food Network had become my atrophic channel of choice. With her creamy Southern drawl and not-so-subtle use of every English teacher’s worst nightmare, “Y’all,” I reveled in her thirty minutes of butter, batter, and calories. However, Paula Deen was not the only Food Network star who I enjoyed watching. In fact, Ina Garten (aka Barefoot Contessa), a person whom I could just picture convulsing at the thought of Ms. Deen’s fried ice cream, also provided me with the entertainment I so desperately craved. Countering Paula’s folksy phrases, she preached the importance of “good kosher salt” and gushed about how coffee so elegantly elicits the richness of cocoa before prancing away to the local market.
However, the contrast between these two celebrity chefs highlights an even greater divide in society—the culinary smackdown of cooks versus chefs. The former emphasizes practicality, exudes warmth, and occasionally throws all nutritional guidelines to the wind. They idolize “short cuts,” and don’t need a tablescape to create an ambience befitting of their down-home cookin’. The chef, conversely, sneers at the desecration of carefully guarded culinary techniques. What happened to slow-roasting that chicken for eight hours? Must the rabble persist in mispronouncing “Worcestershire”? And why must everything they say taint the palate? While bemoaning these pesky tendencies, the Contessa carefully folds her chocolate mousse until it reaches the perfect consistency—coddling it like you or I would a child. Chefs allude to their gustatory odysseys in the south of France or on the islands floating in the Mediterranean much like those perfectly crisped croutons dancing upon the surface of a velvety tomato-basil soup laced with just a touch of Fino. Practicality is not of the essence, for the emphasis rests on process and design.
Yet, the chasm between these two culinary factions extends far beyond the set of The Next Food Network Star. College represents a chance to broaden one’s intellect and, more importantly, appreciate the myriad perspectives of our society. But what is learning without practical implications? To abscond to an Ivory Tower for a lifetime is to withhold knowledge that could alter the world. The chefs deserve some credit for their worship of technique, but does a perfect process necessarily yield a superior result? In all seriousness, Paula and Ina shed light on my collegiate goals. I want to learn something practical—something that might actually help to change the world. Because, maybe, just maybe, one person can make a difference—not a big difference: but a difference nonetheless. Regardless of where I eventually attend, my pragmatism will drive me to embrace the real-world implications of all that I learn. And as I sit in my dorm room, typing out the last words of a thesis, Paula Deen’s cackle in the background will remind me of how right those cooks might actually be.

REVIEW
Jonathan strikes a commendable balance between storytelling and the insights gleaned through introspection. His statement prominently features charismatic and familiar characters. By using a candid approach, the author establishes a sense of security and elicits an investment from the reader. Though he accomplishes much within a limited space, Jonathan places himself in a position that may undermine the purpose of a personal statement: to reveal motivations, desires, and the inner conscience of an applicant not otherwise apparent.
As he continues, Jonathan ventures further into a foreign territory. While his commentary on cooks versus chefs illustrates the author’s command of academic analyses, the piece thus far says little about him. Descriptions of culinary technique and delicious dishes leave an impression on the senses. Coddling chocolate mousse like a child and venturing on gustatory odysseys for velvety tomato-basil soup is certainly unique. Neither memorability nor entertainment value are of concern. These components are frequently most difficult to incorporate, yet Jonathan demonstrates clear mastery. However, even two-thirds through his piece, Jonathan continues telling a seemingly irrelevant story and leaves the reader at a loss in regards to his ultimate ambition.
Finally, as the third paragraph begins, the author reveals the purpose of his prose. The remainder of the story serves as a scaffold to demonstrate a commitment to broadening one’s intellect. Furthermore, he conveys a maturity that allows him to extract profound meaning from a seemingly banal sequence of events. Jonathan finds his greatest strength as he seamlessly bookends his piece. Drawing a parallel between Paula Deen and collegiate goals is indeed a difficult task. But perhaps it is this improbability of success that makes Jonathan’s essay compelling.
—Fatima Mirza