All my life I was alone in the kitchen on the other side of the room watching my grandfather as he barked orders at me on how to cut and make the perfect incisions on all meat products which I then seasoned myself with wet adobo. In the heart of it all I learned there was no time for mistakes and I loved the adrenaline. Sweat and tears flowed down my face as the kitchen called my name it made me feel at home. The sound of the pots smacking against the stove as water filled the pots helped me see something each clack was like a symphony in my ears. Then the end game where presentation came the tearing of the soft pork , the steam of the rice tracing up the stove, my hands full of burn cut Marks from the holidays remind me of where I stand. I loved it this field holds doors open for everyone to shine and I want in. I love the kitchen and this field of study is gonna help me in more ways then I can hope for.