9 minute read
The Revelations of Opportunity
Jack Cosson is a traveling chef who is based out of London, England. @el_nomadic_chef on Instagram
El Nomadic Chef
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The Revelations of Opportunity Part Two
After leaving England for Southeast Asia in early 2014, I spent the next three and a half years bouncing between travel and seasonal work. For nine months of the year, I traveled around Southeast Asia, mostly solo backpacking, exploring new cultures, and volunteering with the “Workaway” platform. For the remaining three months of the year, I worked to recharge my depleted bank account.
During my first round of travel in 2014, I exchanged hospitality work for food and accommodations at Forest Retreat Laos and Bamboo Lounge in Laos and Haven Guesthouse in Vietnam. During the summer, I was able to save some money from a snow season job in Australia and my first two consultancy projects in Vietnam. These consultant gigs involved menu reengineering and hospitality standard improvement, opening the doors for my 2015 season.
The 2014 wages in Australia were so generous that I made them last for the whole of 2015, living in the very affordable Southeast Asia. I became creative in Southeast Asia; I hitchhiked, couchsurfed and volunteered as much as possible to keep my travel and accommodation costs to a bare minimum. With the new found freedom of living light, I found myself focused on spiritual development instead of making ends meet. The Buddhist philosophy on life captivated me; I meditated more regularly than I ate, leading to my first 7-day silent Vipassana retreat.
I was stolen away from the civilized world and immersed in nature and silence. For twelve to fourteen hours per day, I practiced different variations of meditation and, between meditations, learned the Buddha’s philosophies and teachings on life. After the silent retreat, I spent one month working and living with monks in a Burmese community. With only 2,000 citizens in the village, I fostered connections I didn’t foresee possible; I had never witnessed such a level of sharing, love and support among humanity. The area functioned on volunteering and donations alone; sustenance in its entirety came from a place of generosity that was pervasive as the feral felines and canines that roamed the area. The village’s outlook expanded not only my own capacity for compassion but that of my fellow volunteer, a young Canadian girl who was already conditioned to an unparalleled politeness in the Western world. Together, we designed and built a bamboo home for our own accommodations while helping in the community. The generous example set by our fellow villagers was beautifully contagious; my sense of self grew enough to engulf the entire community. I couldn’t help but step outside of my own intentions and into the community’s interest. I was permanently moved by the generosity, something I hold dearly today. We concluded our stay with a gesture of generosity, donating the bamboo home to one of the community’s families.
My intellectual and emotional capacities were continuing to peak with each new experience by the end of 2015, but my financial stamina had found bottom once more. I was broke. With the success of my previous adventures of the internet, I needed it once more to find some paid work. By this time, I was dabbling in veganism, not a very common practice in the restaurant world. Veganism led to even more struggle in finding my next role. Googling felt fruitless. The emails and networks I built were vast but barren. I eventually came across a job opportunity back in Barcelona. A wise man - wise in the sense that this man had lived many years, being present in every one of them - had been practising a macrobiotic lifestyle for 35 years, and he was ready to open a restaurant to share his learnings. Macrobiotics originated in Japan and has its roots in the Tao, the philosophical pursuits that gifted the Asiaphiles of the late 90s the Yin-Yang symbol. I may not be the compulsively obsessed Westerner in love with the Tao, but it spoke to the spiritual foundation I had just developed in Asia. My id fit right in. He didn’t have much experience in hospitality; my training and practice fit right in. We opened his restaurant together in January 2016.
By March 2016, the restaurant was clicking along, finding its place in the Spanish community. I had saved some money and was growing anxious to return to my spiritual playground of Southeast Asia. I was soon on a flight into Thailand where I found a dog-sitting role for 6 weeks. My return to Southeast Asia prompted some experimentation, an all-fruit diet to be exact. I enjoy using myself as a test subject, and my curiosity overtook me. The immediate results of the fruit diet were weight loss. The nutrients of the fruit were easily digested, and the fiber kept my system clean. It was a very rewarding cleanse. By eating raw fruit for only 6 weeks, I was able to recondition my mind and taste buds to a new extreme. After the cleanse, I couldn’t contain myself after my first bite of cooked food; it was like eating for the first time once more. I truly believe the extreme provides balance into my life.
With the fruit experiment and dog sitting at an end, I found a new job through the internet, no longer out of necessity but out of interest. A mobile cafe that traveled around the UK to cater summer music festivals needed some help with food prep. My mental image of the cafe’s vibe put it right in line with the folksy festivals it served. I had no idea what I signed up for! As soon as I finished the season, I retreated to my Southeast Asia to eat more fruit. Asia had become my comfort zone, but it didn’t seem to be cutting it anymore.
Allan Mena | @allanmena
Allan Mena | @allanmena
My mum always stressed balance to me. “If you don’t have work days, you can’t appreciate the weekends.”
I couldn’t quite understand how I could be in paradise, not just the world’s perception of paradise, but my very own, honestly-reflected and accepted paradise, with the freedom to do anything, to follow my whims, to pursue my intellect, my emotion, my physical proclivities, and I felt depressed. I was still lost. Overseas was no longer foreign and the virginity had worn off. I had lost appreciation for the beautiful beaches and fresh coconuts. The overdose of freedom and lack of contrast led me into a few months of honest reflection, trying to find meaning in my life.
2017 was the third year of my extended gap year; maybe I got carried away. I needed to come to terms with reality in whatever form it took. I decided it was time to quit the yo-yoing. The highs were unparalleled, but the extremes always led to burnout. Extended periods of travel with short periods of intense work didn’t provide enough balance. I was knee-deep in Yin without enough Yang. I wanted to merge my 3 passions: food, travel, and people. Guilt had crept in, guilt in the possible deception, guilt in taking on jobs and quitting after just a few months, guilt in taking a management role and releasing it. In October 2017, I quit my last role as an employee and decided to pursue self-employment. It felt so right. It brought me back to my first semester in Sant Pol de Mar. I had always wanted to create something of my own. I had always been dreaming of creative business ideas. I had always felt contained and frustrated when I was misunderstood as an employee. I was waiting for this freedom on a professional level and it was time to put my ideas to the test. It is only now, as I write this, that I have begun to understand that this freedom comes at a price, a price some will not pay.
Within a single fall weekend and fueled by the hunt and survival, I pieced together a brand and business idea. Plant Box Solutions was born; I started a consulting business for plant-based startups. For the past three years I had experimented with vegan food, and the London demand was growing with every new day. New plant-based food businesses were popping up everywhere and they needed help. My focus centered on menu development and the professional kitchen set-up, but my degree and varied hospitality experience helped in the other areas of the business as well. I sought to first build a reputation in London before traveling as a chef consultant around the world, saving the vegan restaurants from their imminent bland doom. My first two interviews, which I had lined up after quitting my last job, somehow became my first two consultancy gigs. A business’s reputation, especially that of a consultancy, is much like a person’s CV; future work depends on the experience of the current and previous. I needed these first two projects to find success under my new brand, to build some credibility and open the doors for the future.
The first few consultancy projects yielded excellent results; I was building the reputation I wanted. I was learning with my clients, but I still felt frustrated and misunderstood. I realised that until I had thoroughly established my reputation as a consultant, I was not going to be given freedom to take control of the project. Most of the time, I tweaked my clients’ visions without room for creativity. They had the first word, the last word, and most of the words between; I could only interject sparingly through the process. I still felt constrained in one fashion or another. Even with my own business, I was constrained by the market, and it was even tighter with my lacking reputation. Was this a culmination of my millennial entitlement? Or was it my lack of patience?
My title was self-employed, but I still I felt like an employee. It bugged the hell out of me. So you guessed it, a career move. Consultancy provided much needed experience and built my confidence. As you may have perceived, I value a small gesture of validation prior to taking a step on my own. Previously, math mechanics before hospitality degree, gap year before consultancy, and now, consultancy before catering. I was ready to take the leap and be me, whatever form it would take. It takes guts, grit, and self-trust. No wonder most people work as employees. The feeling of suffocation as an employee led to desperation and consideration of taking the leap into full-blown entrepreneurship. I have always been antsy; maybe that’s an indicator for entrepreneurship; I only lasted three months in any of my previous jobs. I made a difficult - but the most rewarding - decision of my life; I jumped straight in with both feet, landing in the very deep end of the restaurant game.
In January 2018, I came across the supper club concept in London; independent chefs either collaborated with an existing restaurant or hired out a venue for hosting their own events to cook for a typically-intimate group of guests. One day, I was sitting in The Hornbeam, an exceptionally cozy non-profit community cafe that I discovered during one of my many wander-abouts. I had just come from a session of colonic hydrotherapy and was feeling on top of the world. While it may seem too invasive for some, the therapy physically and spiritually rid my being of the waste I didn’t need. As I dug into my vegan meal, I spotted a venue-hire advert pinned to the wall. The very cafe I was sitting in was available to hire on the weekends. I instantly made the connection and my pulse palpated with excitement. I had always wanted to have my own restaurant, but my penchant for travel and freedom from ties were incompatible. I suddenly realized I could have both. Without hesitation, I scheduled two trial supper clubs in London during Veganuary to test the city’s appetite. The two nights exceeded my expectations and, most importantly, the feedback was more compelling than any I had ever received. I finally felt like I had a space to create and be myself. By the time I had finished the second night in London, I had already scheduled my first Nomadic Supper Club event in Tallinn, Estonia - a connection I had made while volunteering at a yoga retreat in Spain. My travel network was once just a pursuit of curiosity, but it had become the avenue to success. More events were scheduled in Riga for February. My impulsivity blinded my practicality; I scheduled events during the coldest time of year for Eastern Europe. I decided to leave with my determination and only these two events confirmed, optimistic I could schedule more on the go.
Prior to my departure for the frigid Slavic countries, I held a vision for the documentation of the tour. I imagined an episode for each event, building each story with the prep, execution and aftermath of the supper club. I conjured a fantastical sequence of Anthony Bourdain’s storytelling amongst the drama of Gordon Ramsay’s antics. I wanted to stay away from scaling up the actual events, even though larger scale yields actual profitability; I cherished the intimacy and personal interaction with small groups. My solution was to use the documentation as the scalable format of virtual entertainment on platforms like YouTube or Netflix. Whether in the form of visual entertainment or merchandise, an alternative income source was needed for Nomadic Supper Clubs to survive. I searched for a videographer willing to travel by my side and document the whole journey but came up short. I never found a videographer, so I personally documented the tour on social media in the best way I could. It was a starting point, my starting point.
Allan Mena | @allanmena
