Introducing Good Luck Dinner
I’m so proud to announce my new business, a family meal service called “Good Luck Dinner”!
In short, I’m now cooking families dinner for my job.
I just couldn’t ignore it: cooking started as a necessary daily ritual but became an all-consuming passion. After a long day of teaching in the south end of Seattle, time in the kitchen brought me as much comfort as the food itself. I cherished this manageable, tangible project that nourishes not only my body, but also my sense of creativity, hospitality, and mastery. No teacher can change every kid’s life, but I could damn well tweak my chicken and dumplings recipe until it is *perfect*.
While teaching, my passion for food continued to grow, but my free time for cooking stayed more-or-less the same. As a result, I mastered batch cooking and meal prepping, stretching my school teacher dollars and hours as far as they’d allow. (Though, as the years went on, I also acquired admittedly less practical habits like making bread and yogurt from scratch.) I expanded and perfected my home cooking practice late into the week night and most weekends.
Eventually I embraced it: making dinner has become the thing I take the most pride and joy in. When I’m not doing it, it’s what I most want to think about, talk about, read about, and scroll over.
So I’ve decided to take the leap and do this for money. “Cooking Dinner” as a job now seems obvious--it had already become my life’s work. But it took me some time and courage to acknowledge this and identify how.
Jenny Jimenez not only took these beautiful photos for me, she graciously let me use her family as guinea pigs for the meal service! This is one of my favorite shots—here I’m sprinkling sourdough breadcrumbs on an eggplant involtini.
During the 2017-2018 school year, I started thinking about making a career change. I ran into a problem, though: I had no idea what else I would do. I was stuck.
My partner Eric suggested I reach out this his friend Darren, who is in the business of helping people quit their jobs. He suggested that if nothing else, filling out Darren’s career coaching application would be a baby step towards figuring things out.
The first question on Darren’s coaching application is, “What is the most ideal situation you hope to find yourself in professionally and creatively?” Darren adds, “pure fantasy here, don't worry about being practical.”
Though it’s hard for me to step outside of my comfort zone of pragmatic thinking, I do my best to follow directions. I dutifully set aside all practical concerns and designed a life that, at the time, felt like pure fantasy. In my new life, I hosted themed dinner parties, designed and delivered custom meal kits, taught baking workshops and cooking lessons, and had some spare time to write about food.
The writing exercise felt energizing--I remember feeling giddy reading out my answer to my friend Alex. At the same time, none of it felt feasible. It was too risky, and I couldn’t see it working out in real life. I couldn’t leave a job with decent benefits, clearly defined working hours, and a predictable salary schedule for a risky, solo venture into a field I had no “real” experience in. Even if my teacher salary was modest, I found my steady, dependable paycheck comforting. And even though I love working with food, I thrive on routine.
I started working with Darren, being sure to explain all the reasons why my food dream was out of bounds. With his mentorship, I set about casting a wider net for career ideas-- I explored my strengths and skills, and I tapped my network to learn what’s out there. Friends graciously fielded questions about their fields and work lives, and connected me to people who might help me out.
In addition to all this safe career homework, Darren gave me a fun assignment: “Your mission is to get 4 people to pay for the material cost of a dinner you're making for them.” And in the summer of 2018, I did just that. (Except instead of 4 I served 12, because I’m an overachiever.)
I put on a ticketed dinner party in my dear friends Alex and Christopher’s yard. My friend Kristen contributed gorgeous local florals (to fit the theme!) and helped me serve, and other friends humored me and bought the tickets. I served a four-course Italian dinner inspired by a meal Alex and I had in Emilia-Romagna the summer before, incorporating fresh-milled and fermented grains throughout the meal.
Another part of Darren’s assignment was to write down it went and how I felt, but I neglected to do that after the event because I was too busy FEELING MYSELF. I didn’t write anything down, but I remember it well. The night went flawlessly, and I was elated. I was proud of every dish I served.
Even though this experiment felt like a total triumph, it wasn’t the answer to my “What To Do for a Job” question. Scaling this up as a business that would actually work (aka catering) didn’t appeal to me. But I knew I had to give food a shot somehow.
This past summer I “popped up” a couple more times—once for a sourdough pizza party, and again for a Mediterranean rooftop dinner series.
I learned so much putting on the pop up dinners. They boosted my confidence, and also gave me some insight into what a catering business might feel like. Even though I want to continue putting on dinner parties now and then, I discovered that this wasn’t where I wanted to put my day-to-day energy.
Another invaluable learning experience in my career search was attending the Grain Gathering at WSU’s Bread Lab in the summer of 2018. While there, I connected with some incredible bakers. I learned more about the business of baking bread, from small cottage businesses larger operations. Even though connecting with this inspiring community further ignited my fire for bread baking, I realized that I didn’t have the singular passion that’s required to own and run a bakery.
Dr. Stephen Jones, Director of the WSU Bread Lab, in the experimental wheat fields at the 2018 Grain Gathering.
All of these adventures have reinforced a truth that’s been there all along: I am a home cook, and my heart and hands belong in the home kitchen. At its core, this journey has really been about acknowledging that this thing I’ve devoted my life to—making food for my friends and family—has value.
Feeding a family takes work, and it’s work that often goes unpaid. So often, like other burdens that are largely placed on women, home cooking is undervalued. Because of this dynamic in our culture, it took me some time to discover that I can make a living making dinner. And, in doing so, I can help families reclaim time for the things that matter to them.
In starting this new venture I am putting into practice a couple of big lessons I learned from my career in schools: The best work happens when you build on your strengths, and the greatest growth happens when you take a risk and put yourself out there.
Photo (and baby) by Jenny Jimenez
So, here’s what you need to know about Good Luck Dinner:
Good Luck Dinner is a family meal service. I’ll get to know your family’s food culture and values, and then prepare as little as a few meals a week and as much as every weeknight lunch and dinner.
Good Luck Dinner is personal—I will customize every meal to your preferences and desires. We will build a relationship with safe, open communication to make sure every meal feels like a gift from me to your family.
Good Luck Dinner is here to make your home life more fun, productive, and equitable. We all want to eat great, home-cooked, food and I, of all people, know this can be huge undertaking. I am pursuing my passions so that you can spend more time on yours, whatever they may be.
Visit my Good Luck Dinner page to learn more. I currently have 2 clients, and room for 3-6 more, depending on the type of help you need.
If you’re interested or know someone who might be, please don’t hesitate to get in touch!
