"A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others."

-Anonymous

Imagine a big pile of children peeking around the corner at their Uncle Tom. He's happily rolling meatballs in his hands; towel draped over his left shoulder, graying moustache dancing as he sings Pavarotti. Unable to contain themselves, the children whisper to one another about the curious site. Knowing that they are there, Uncle Tom looks at the finished meatball in his hand, pauses for just one second, smiles, purses his lips together, and kisses the meatball.   The pile of children disassembles like a rack of billiard balls scattering after impact from the cue ball. They shriek searching for someone to tell - Uncle Tom just kissed a meatball!

Though the secret of many meatballs is a guarded ratio of ground veal, pork, and beef, Uncle Tom, my father, has a much different approach: laughter. For years I have watched him make meatballs, the same way every time, but I cannot get that image of him kissing them - his culinary secret - out of my mind. My Italian Father kisses each meatball one by one.   What greater love for food is there?

My father instilled this love inside me at a very young age. Before I knew what an olive was, I was making trips with him to an Italian market in Northern Cincinnati to get the best Sicilian olives the city had. It was then that I knew there was something magical about that market, and it was in some way was foreshadowing a love of food that I myself would foster.

My love grew into obsession when I entered culinary school after my high school graduation.While there, I learned the techniques of classical cookery from John Kinsella, C.M.C., arguably one of the best culinary educators in the United States. While still in culinary school, I apprenticed for Chef Henry Warman at Ciao Baby Cucina, an Italian Bistro. The classical French cookery taught at culinary school became my foundation; a foundation that I was to apply on the job.

Upon graduation from culinary school, I was able to apply this passion as I continued my apprenticeship with Chef Warman. Helping him open his own restaurant was an experience that opened my eyes to the marriage of culinary creativity and sound business decisions that govern the successful operation of a restaurant.

I finished my apprenticeship with him nearly two years after his restaurant had been open so that I could buy a new toolbox of knives - literally. I went to work as a fishmonger, and an inexperienced one at that. I bought every knife and gadget that promised to help me cut a fish, but learned it sound technique that cuts fish, not a fancy knife. I knew how to cook a piece of fish, but not how to process it from slime and scales to boneless, skinless fillet.  

I not only underwent an explosion of knowledge while cutting fish, but also an explosion of creativity. It was my goal to read every book about fish that I could find to learn about their migratory patterns, their biology, and their ecosystem.   With this knowledge, I could better appreciate the diversity of the life in the sea, whether it is consumed or not.

These curiosities lead me to an unlikely place: South Carolina. The University of South Carolina, to be precise. My curiosity had not only gotten the better of me, it had motivated me to study marine science and meteorology because of my fascination with the ocean and the creatures therein. I wanted to know how the air and sea interact, how a cluster of thunderstorms off of the Gold Coast of Africa turns into a force of nature that has the power to level houses, flood cities, ruin lives. I wanted to know how this all tied into the fish that I was cutting, selling, cooking, and eating.

What I found out was that though most fish look relatively harmless, they, and the ocean that they live in, are immensely complex and are governed by mathematics, biology, chemistry and physics. While I learned the principles of thermodynamics and how they apply to a singular water parcel, I closed my eyes and remembered how they applied to a single strand of linguini. I knew that a certain curiosity in my heart belonged to meteorology, but that my passion was gastronomy.

Could these two co-exist? Further, could one benefit from the other? My love for cooking caused me to infectiously teach my college roommates (who were engineers) how make marinara - and stoke their enthusiasm for the culinary arts - my curiosity about meteorology caused me to teach my classmates about the principles of heat transfer, and how they affect the weather.

The common theme is teaching; cooking and science are just the ingredients. Though I am a better chef than meteorologist, I love sharing my knowledge in both disciplines. What is it that I can do in my life that will incorporate the two? How can I help others to discover the same passions that I have for science, food, and gastronomy?    

The answers to these questions - being a culinary educator - lead me to Florida International University where I am working a degree that will prepare me for this profession. Through working as a Teaching Assistant with Chef Michael Moran at FIU and teaching as a chef instructor at Le Cordon Bleu Culinary College I have begun my journey as a culinary educator.  

Just as any book, my autobiography is slightly incomplete. Chapters are yet to be written, and they contain the continuation of my education. The education that awaits me at New York University (NYU) is the catalyst that can form the toolbox of knowledge that I have into that candle ready to consume itself - to light the path for others.

This is my wife Irmghard: (she made my website) and this is my dog Ollie: .