It all started with the idea of my father going to study as a cook and my lack of desire to pursue higher education and engage in intellectual labor. Patience comes with years, I thought, and I took a knife in my hand. Success wasn't far off. After 13 years, already in the role of a professional, I was highly regarded as a strong chef in Minsk. Having ruined more than one project in my pursuit of becoming a culinary artist (since the paths of the young and ambitious tend to look quite similar), and having reached local market heights, I set out to study at Le Cordon Bleu Paris.
Summer, heat. The French language, a terrible translator from French to English, and a very limited budget made me focus maximally on delving into culinary culture and putting forth maximum effort to be noticed by culinary gods (teachers), with the hope of potential collaboration on their part. In vain. In principle, the Parisian culinary school turned out to be an inflated marketing project, more like an imagined grandeur, courses for enhancing qualifications, where affluent Asians enthusiastically spent their summer vacations immersing themselves in authentic culture at the expense of their parents. This, by the way, is the same skill, which could be elaborated on further, but not now.

And so, in my hands, I held a card with the inscription of completing basic education at Le Cordon Bleu. The entire family's capital was spent; I included the sale of a car and personal savings. My precious wife and growing son in my arms; perhaps someday they will appreciate my decision, but that's a separate topic. And the open horizons of the whole world! And however skeptically I reacted to the French diploma, mentioning European education in the resume opens many doors from the very start. The first time I tried HeadHunter, and voilà – I was in Rostov-on-Don.
Amazing people, a new life, left and right banks; I always remember that time warmly. Firstly, the income level. It's very comfortable when you can save a bit from your salary instead of taking out loans. People eat out. Everything works differently, but you have nothing to prove, and gradually a new circle of acquaintances you've formed surrounds you. In the moment, it's very pleasant, especially after leaving Minsk. The restaurant company was young, ambitious, professional – in short, they were impressive. I even moved my family, but as everything comes, so it goes. In one moment, I stopped meeting expectations, ceased to produce the desired effect, and my professionalism wasn't sufficient to achieve the set results. You know how sometimes price and quality don't match; accordingly, I was asked to leave... It was tragic, of course, and sad. I remember my alarmed eyes before the final conversation; I didn't understand what was happening then. But bad experience is even better than good! Fortunately, the company turned out to be more than decent: three months' pay in advance and warm embraces. I try to use this approach whenever possible now as well. In short, suitcase, train station, Minsk. It was great; Rostov remains forever in my heart.

The next steps were the same old pattern – job search website, a couple of clicks, and an invitation from a famous hotel in Sochi for an interview. By the way, about the interview.

In our profession, it's a whole ritual. To start, you need to present yourself in the right light, impress everyone with your culinary skills, and then with your intellectual abilities. If the employer is far away, it's a whole journey. Plane, hotel, a couple of days for preparation, and the final tasting, where you're like a peacock, being scrutinized from all sides in a short time. It's fun, spirited, but you need to have good self-presentation skills.
So, a white Mercedes greets me at the entrance of Sochi Airport and takes me up into the mountains to Krasnaya Polyana. To the City Hotel. I couldn't even imagine that my culinary skills and Belarusian tolerance would come in handy in a place where many are closed off by default. But it was 2012, everything was growing and expanding.
And so, golden chandeliers, Bohemian crystal, and a man around 45, taking my sports backpack from the white Mercedes. I found myself in paradise. Here, of course, I need to express gratitude to the person whose cursor clicked on my resume. After that moment, I knew I would do everything right and professionally. A hotel is not a restaurant; the business's profitability doesn't depend on the FB department. Professional realization for chefs in a hotel is much less stressful and risky for the business compared to restaurants – that's a fact. Thanks to hotels, I've established a huge number of connections and friendly relationships. A massive company, over a thousand employees, substantial funding and resources, social security, and a secure future. Many would say it's ideal, and I did too. I dedicated almost 2 years to this company, managing a team of 70 people, organizing numerous special events, tackling hundreds of interesting tasks, feeding a lot of guests. During this period, I even interned at the top Spanish restaurant Mugaritz (but that's a story for a separate publication). But there's a downside to all of this. Companies of this kind are very bureaucratized; they have complex internal relationships, many spheres of influence, and cluster structures. And when internal struggles arise, there's less work, a lot of unnecessary movements, and capable minds leave you. When it's time to take responsibility (the 2014 Olympics) and your team is not confident, no one wants to go into battle.

And so, with thoughts of self-preservation and increasing earnings before the Olympics, I decided to switch to another, less ambitious but larger seaside hotel. There, with an excellent and stress-resistant team in place, we embarked on a battle. Under the motto 'we'll conquer all,' we conquered everyone. The Olympic flame extinguished simultaneously with this project. As soon as the last journalist left the hotel, a stray dog took their place, and the city-hotel turned into a ghost town, though things are different now. At that time, the idea of staying in Sochi seemed crazy, and at a family council, we decided to return. In Minsk, there was a restaurant on partnership terms on the horizon, and for the meantime, a job in the new opening 'Renaissance' hotel, whose chef had long written to me and was waiting for me at the hockey championship.

The next stage was 'Renaissance' Minsk. They accepted me as the head chef, but there was also the role of brand chef. I hadn't worked as an assistant in a long time, and the feelings were strange, but the same uncomparable structure and management system were already established. Bravo for everything except forcing everyone to love the hotel with all their hearts; you can't make anyone do that, especially a Belarusian! The experience was interesting but short. A three-month probation period, not enduring the pressure of the brand chef and the indifference towards me, led me not to sign the main contract and to pursue a project, for the sake of which I returned to Minsk.
And so, a new chapter of our life began – the restaurant 'Spoon,' which was located in a residential area near a paint factory. Even the famous NOMA could envy such a location, but the experience was unique. I was invited to the project on partnership terms, and at first, I didn't even receive payment, which was strange but experience is experience. At that time, I also borrowed a couple of thousand from the main partner for necessary needs (instead of payment) and repaid it later, up until 2023. Debts are sacred!
And so, Minsk. The year was 2015. A restaurant with the aforementioned location, in the basement, capable of astonishing guests and preparing delicious and diverse dishes for four long years. It all ended with the first profit distribution. The story is not beautifully crazy, but it repeats quite often. An example where a restaurant is built for personal socialization; with few exceptions, they don't turn out profitable or successful. And that's what happened; there's no profitability, no one understands what to do and how to do it right. Everyone ends up facing difficulties. They waste precious time, and the main investor incurs losses. Would I regret it now? Probably yes! We all spent a lot of time on this project. It could have been quicker and more effective to sink thousands of dollars. And the idea was good – to partner with capable managers and chefs; motivated by profit, they would dig for treasures. But when profit is ephemeral and isn't paid out over significant time periods, it becomes like a castle on sand. Difficulties increase, and the team starts to crumble. In general, I fought to the end, but perhaps it wasn't necessary.
And do you know the traditional mistake of an owner and a harbinger of the end of a business? The owner brings his wife into management! I've seen it once and tried it once. So, those interested, I invite you to the club. The main thing is that wives should approach this proposal with the understanding that the end is inevitable and that they should bury the business quickly, not trying to realize themselves in it, while keeping the values of family relationships healthy.
I left Spoon with the experience of unsuccessful management and the understanding that the right location is a very important part of a successful business.

In keeping with tradition, thanks for my life go to my parents and brother, beloved wife and children, Sergey Zablotsky, Sergey Khomchanovsky, Olga and Louise, and everyone who has been and will be by my side.