Making Peace With Discipline

I have always been fascinated by raw materials. Even as a child, I spent my time in the kitchen, not really cooking but experimenting, playing, mixing ideas and tricks in pans. I was curious about ingredients long before I understood technique. Out of necessity, I started from the very bottom, washing dishes, observing everything around me. That was when I realized this was my path. Not a phase, not a hobby, but a journey I wanted to fully commit to. From there came work experience, internships, long days, sacrifice, and the slow process of becoming who I am today.

 

I have never worked outside the restaurant world. I did not try other careers or paths. This was always what I wanted, even when it was hard, even when I questioned myself. School, monotony, and rigid rules never suited me. I tried to keep up with my studies as a teenager, but I soon realized I needed a different way of learning. I became self-taught, and when I realized I needed to deepen my knowledge, I started buying books. One after another. I still do. My rule is at least three books a month. Learning, for me, never stops.

 

Until I was about twenty, I worked in what felt like battle environments. Tough kitchens, chaotic places, where you learn fast, or you fall behind. Those years gave me resilience. But at twenty, I entered a kitchen that truly changed me. It taught me discipline, respect for every role, and the importance of working with intention. From that moment on, I knew I would never give this up.

 

My biggest challenge has always been myself. I was rebellious. I hated rules. Consistency was not part of my nature. The kitchen forced me to confront that. Over time, discipline became something I embraced instead of resisted. Today, rules give me structure, and consistency has become one of my strengths. The kitchen shaped my character as much as my skills.

 

What drives me is curiosity. I ask endless questions. I observe everything. Nighttime is when my mind really works, when I isolate myself and let my thoughts travel. I imagine dishes, paths, and futures. Over the years, I have learned that when you are technically prepared, there are no limits. The technique gives you freedom.

 

There was a moment when I realized that cooking could be more than a duty. At first, I worked because it was what I had to do, and I tried to do it well. But one day, I started turning around, asking questions, watching programs, and studying chefs with strong identities. Each one intrigued me for their personality as much as their food. That is when I understood I wanted my own identity. Not to copy, not to follow trends, but to build something that felt like me.

 

I do not insist on being called chef. I prefer my name. I want to feel equal to everyone around me. I still have so much to learn, so many things to face. Maybe later in life I will accept the title, but for now I believe in working together toward a shared goal. Creating an environment filled with healthy energy, where people grow together and achieve things over time.

 

Cooking has often helped me escape my own thoughts. The kitchen allows me to focus, to quiet my mind, to overcome many of my anxieties. During COVID, like everyone else, I had doubts. That period pushed me to work on myself at home, to study more, to explore what I once thought were my limits. It was uncomfortable, but necessary.

 

I hesitate to call this a career. It feels too final, and I am not done yet. What I am most proud of is that, after so much was taken away from me, I am slowly rebuilding my life, my goals, and the things that make me feel good. I am doing it on my own, with perseverance and sacrifice, without shortcuts.

 

What I love most about Italian restaurant culture is its diversity. You travel ten kilometers, and traditions change completely. That richness is powerful. What saddens me is seeing how many young people carry trauma from unhealthy work environments. I deeply believe that a healthy kitchen can change everything. Unity is strength. Respect is essential. There should be no difference between men and women in the kitchen, only people working together.

 

For the future, I hope for more respect. Respect for raw materials, for the farmers, the butchers, and everyone involved before an ingredient reaches the plate. I hope we continue to study, experiment, and evolve, without forgetting the sacrifice behind every product we use. That awareness is what gives cooking meaning.

 

Beyond the kitchen, I also share my journey through my YouTube channel, Parla Come Magni.
There, I show the sacrifice behind this work and my day-to-day life alongside producers and artisans, living the profession as it truly is.

Some of the videos and photos featured come from my own content creation, with additional images by Lorenzo Francini.

You can find my channel here:
https://www.youtube.com/@ParlaComeMagni_ChiaraPannozzo