You enter the building for the first time, wide-eyed. Faces pass you by, proceed with their day-to-day of which you are not yet a part. Everything is odd, exciting, unknown, distant yet all encompassing. You tire of relying on others, constantly asking where the chopping boards are, where to find the oil, I couldn’t see the herbs you asked for, oh sorry they’re right there, my mistake! Every action is proceeded by a question, exposing your utter helplessness. You make mistakes. It’s embarrassing.

I sleep little that night. My subconscious drags me out of my sleep every other hour, telling me that it is high time to get up now, that I am going to be late for my first day, how embarrassing (it is 2am). Inbetween those bursts of anxious wakefulness, my dreams regale me with scenarios of my inevitable delayed arrival, and highly imaginative and richly embellished episodes of gut-wrenching humiliations.

It's easy to look to chefs as restaurant critics. We know the ins and outs, the new top spots, the up-and-coming openings, the who’s who and what’s what of the industry.

But there are a few factors to consider when taking a chef’s recommendation: Overfamiliarity. Pride. Competition. Jealousy. Or pretending that we know more than we actually do.