Did you know I was a private chef during the pandemic? I never mentioned that because it was brief and partly and wasn’t as exciting as it sounds. Not even cooking for Hollywood stars and well-known directors made it glamorous. They were all genuinely nice, had better kitchens than mine, and I could shop at Erewhon without looking at prices. The pay wasn’t bad either. But if you want to kill my spirit, make me stick to a menu-script.

I had to create the menus at the beginning of each week and shop strictly according to plan. No improvising, no simplicity — none of the things I actually love about cooking.

In the beginning I could handle it, but over time it became boring, exhausting, and completely unsustainable. Fifty dollars an hour wasn’t worth the time and effort. Maybe if I were in my twenties. Teaching cooking classes at Los Angeles Valley College paid less but was ten times more satisfying.

What really broke the camel’s back — or my back — was coming home too exhausted to cook for my own family. As much as I cared about my clients, I cared about my family more. Finding my boys eating pho from a plastic container was like a kick to the stomach.

If I didn’t have children, it might have been a different story. But as a mom, it just didn’t make sense. If the money I was making as a private chef was going straight toward takeout and things we didn’t need, I might as well be our own private chef.

Which brings me to an important point: I raised my boys well. While the kids in the families I cooked for wouldn’t touch a salad, my boys devoured them. Any crunchy vegetable or leaves tossed in a tart dressing — they’ll eat it. Even broccoli, as long as you don’t oversteam it.

Notes

• SET A TIMER. Do not scroll social media while it’s cooking. I steam rather than serve it raw because raw broccoli is hard to digest, but the key is keeping that perfect crunch.
• One last thing: toss this salad with your hands. Clean ones. It gives it more flavor — scientifically proven 😉

Enjoy!