If I weren’t a teacher…

by Elena T

If I weren’t a teacher, I would be the restaurant critic for The New York Times. My discriminating and adventurous palate would be in high demand; I would sample the creations of the latest and greatest chefs on a dime that is not mine. It would be a position of power and esteem where even a determination of mediocrity could be received with celebration. The Times would pay me for my mastery of the adjective, my ability to spin a ganache from “sumptuous” to “velvety” to “decadent” and back again all in one line. My judgements would be fateful; reservations would spike or wane with the strokes of my pen. Some people would love me, and others would hate me, but all would recognize and respect me for my honesty and commitment to excellence. I would be Elena Teixeira, critic extraordinaire.

Being so easily recognized might mean that sometimes I would have to work in a disguise, paying homage to the legend of a progenitor, Ruth Reichl. Like Ruth, I would use different characters and accessories to ensure my persona wouldn’t affect the final product I was served. Otherwise, my subjects might falsely dust off their fineries and sit up a little bight straighter in their chairs, so to speak, when I would walk through the door.

As the food critic of The New York Times I would travel the world literally and metaphorically through food. Harissa, saffron, and peppercorns would simulate the scents and sensations of Morocco, Spain, and China all in one meal. Tastes of different cultures would make the job dynamic, while the demands of a weekly column would require extreme creativity and open-mindedness in order to remain fresh. I might lose readers if my methods became stale or repetitive.

If I weren’t a teacher, being a  food critic for The New York Times would bring risk and reward. It would be a position with great influence; generations of writers, readers, and eaters alike would hang on my every word. International adventures, attention to detail, and the inevitable demand for innovation and originality would be standard part and parcel. These challenges would mean that as a food critic, no day would be like the one before. But then again, I could say the same about teaching. I can experience and achieve all these things from the confines of my classroom. I work with children who are eager to explore the world through cuisine as diverse as they are. I bring out the best in them with my excitement for new teaching and learning methods. My pen of choice may be red, and my audience may be a roster of 25, but I am living my calling in the food world as a FACS educator.

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