By Alexander Botschinsky
Today I want to thank you Mom and Dad, for the support you’ve given me throughout my life, and for letting me follow all of my dreams, goals and passions in a way that conformed to the version you had in mind for me since before I was even born.
Where would I be if it wasn’t for the decisive way that you raised me, with crisp parental guidance that prevented me from going astray and following the less wise version of my dreams?
Probably somewhere terrible, like owning my own artisan sandwich shop, full of those little red bar stools I used to make in high school shop class, and with a cute name, like ‘Panini Friends.’ Maybe this mistake would be on the East side of town.
Thank you for narrowing my love of food and passion for little details, like finding the perfect sauerkraut to Russian dressing ratio, and focusing this passion into something with greater financial potential and stability, like medical school and private medical practice.
And it seems to have paid off over the years. I wouldn’t be making more money than I have time to spend it if you both hadn’t introduced me to diagrams and photos from medical books at an impressionable age. When you think of it, running a hospital is much like running a sandwich shop, only it’s got the added benefit of being more financially responsible and satisfying to your parents, and, yes, sure, maybe a few less house-made fresh ciabatta buns.
Hospital food is just fine anyways.
Boy, remember sending me to science camp when I was silly enough to want to apply for the catering position for the community theatre production of the Wizard of Oz? That’s still the best birthday present that I can remember. I know now that leading a life in the arts is for weak people and you raised me to be a strong person and never to cry while hunting.
Also, I’m glad you taught me to make forest green my favourite colour.
Today I always think of you when I’m operating on a patient. It would be stupid of me to think about cutting into a perfectly toasted sandwich with perfectly angled grill marks when I could be cutting into a human being with the same care and precision.
All parents today should be so free with their children and allow them to chase a better, more mature version of their dreams. Why would any parent do otherwise?
And that’s why I’m doing everything to see to it that my kids are trained in culinary preparation, so that they will be able to one day achieve their dreams of owning their own cafe bakery with red stools and picture-perfect panini, right after they become world champion macaron makers.
