What began as a quiet day in Mr. McKinnon’s College and Career Ready Writing class quickly turned into an experience that changed the direction of my mentorship essay—and possibly my future. I had spent days emailing chefs hoping one would agree to be my mentor. My inbox stayed empty. No replies. Nothing but silence.
Then my Abuela and Abuelo flew in from Georgia for Abuela’s best friend’s vow-renewal ceremony at Carnivale, a vibrant Latin-fusion restaurant in Chicago. She invited our whole family to dinner after the ceremony, and although I didn’t know it then, that night would give me the connection I had been searching for.
Carnivale was unlike anything my younger brother or I had experienced. The lights were bright and colorful, music drifted through the air, and the second floor—where we were seated—buzzed with celebration. Appetizers came out first: goat cheese empanadas, shrimp ceviche, and street corn. A live mariachi band played as the room filled with conversation and laughter.
Hours later, our main dishes arrived: seafood paella, steak with cherry rice, roasted chicken over potatoes, and baked ravioli. Everything tasted rich and flavorful. When the newly renewed couple stood to give a speech, it stretched past the forty-minute mark. My attention wandered, and I couldn’t shake the thought that I was sitting in a place run by people who lived the life I hoped to pursue.
So I quietly went downstairs.
At the seafood bar, a chef was talking with a customer who clearly seemed like a regular. Their conversation wasn’t even about food—they were debating stock trading. As I listened from a distance, the customer suddenly turned to me and asked, “If you knew how a stock would rise and fall, would you buy it?”
I answered yes, explaining that I’d buy low and sell high. He laughed and told me most people overthink simple choices. When he walked away, the chef leaned toward me and said, “Come back in ten minutes. I’ll show you the kitchen.”
I sprinted upstairs and counted the minutes. When time was up, I hurried back down, hoping I wouldn’t miss my chance. The chef brought me into the back, where every station was alive with movement. Cooks chopped vegetables, grilled meats, and plated dishes with precision. Standing in the middle of that controlled chaos, something in me clicked.
The chef introduced himself as Chef Carlos Garza.
He asked what I liked to cook. I told him: pasta, pies, steaks, pizzas, and sometimes chicken sandwiches. Before I left, he recommended the book Letters to a Young Chef and—without warning—invited me to the Celebrity Chef Ball.
I was in shock. But I said yes immediately.
The Celebrity Chef Ball
I woke at 6:30 a.m. the morning of filled with equal parts excitement and nerves. After showering, steaming my clothes, and eating breakfast, I mentally prepared for the biggest culinary experience of my life. I needed to arrive by 1 p.m., but I planned to get there early to show Chef Carlos I was serious.
We left at 11:30 a.m., but my aunt’s car broke down before we reached the highway. After several calls, my brother came to help, and my aunt ordered me an Uber so I wouldn’t be late. On the ride, the driver and I talked about Chicago restaurants and neighborhoods—another unexpected moment of learning.
I arrived at Carnivale at 12:25 p.m.
In the kitchen, I helped prep vegetables and practiced my cutting technique while others handled the meats. The staff worked in perfect rhythm, and I tried to match their pace. By 6:30 p.m., we packed up the ingredients and headed to the event venue.
Inside, the Chef Ball felt unreal. Golden lights shimmered across the room. Crystal chairs and elegantly set tables filled the space. More than 300 guests attended, and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy. Before dinner, I sampled appetizers—including caviar for the first time, which had a salty, delicate flavor.
The auction began next, with one gift basket selling for $17,000.
Afterward, the chefs returned to their stations and cooked for hours. I sliced, stirred, plated, and learned more than I ever expected. The work was intense but exhilarating. I gained new techniques, real-world experience, and connections with mentors who took my goals seriously.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—one that started because I decided to walk downstairs and take a chance. I learned that sometimes the path to what you want opens only when you step forward and ask for it.
And I’m glad I did.
