Connecting the Dots

What a ten-minute interview with Bobby Flay taught me about curiosity, careers, and becoming myself

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This week I interviewed Bobby Flay.

If you had told 25-year-old me that one day I’d be on the phone interviewing one of the most recognizable chefs in America for one of the most popular food publications on the internet, I would have laughed. Not because it seemed impossible, but because I would have assumed I’d have some more grown up job by now.

But here I am, still trying to connect the dots.

I thought I had twenty minutes to do it. But when I got the conference number and Flay politely answered, I could hear a TV in the background, like I was bothering this guy with another cookie cutter list of questions. When I tried to confirm I had 20 minutes, a nice young voice suddenly came on and corrected me. Mr. Flay only had ten minutes. Turns out, this is how these things work.

The interview with Flay was about steak. But not about how it was raised, or where it came from. Not its history or its carbon footprint. Nothing about where food comes from, or why we eat it.

Just steak. How to cook it. How long to preheat a pan. The kinds of questions I’m sure Bobby Flay has answered hundreds of times.

I was doing a job. And although I was nervous–especially because I now only had half the time to complete it–I was up for the challenge. I stuck to the script. And waited until I’d gotten what I needed before I asked a more authentic question. What did he think about grass-finished beef? With his expert media training, Flay expertly dodged a quote that might alienate big beef or smaller regenerative ranchers.

As the last minutes ticked down, I asked about Bobby’s favorite beef cut. But I already knew the answer. I’d done my homework, and he’d answered the question countless times before. Without hesitation he said skirt. A flavorful but less common cut. Something normally relegated to fajitas or grind. But he’s right, when sliced against the grain, it’s a great steak. Just ask the French bistros that have been serving it for centuries.

But my curious butcher brain couldn’t resist the follow up.

“What about flatiron?” I asked, stealing a quick look at my phone. Ninety seconds left.

The silence was painfully long. And this wasn’t a thoughtful silence. It was the disdainful kind.

“Flatiron? From the shoulder?” he finally clarified. “No. I’m not interested in that.”

I had apparently spent one of my precious last minutes challenging Bobby Flay on steak, and I was summarily shot down.

But then my final question got a laugh. I asked if social media was actually a good thing for food culture, or was it just making everyone more anxious. Bobby laughed. And that was probably the most authentic moment in the whole exchange.

I had to chuckle too because that question perfectly captured something I struggle with about food culture and the articles I sometimes feel compelled to write.

Bobby’s quote and my words will cause search terms to explode. For now, skirt steak will be king, and fllatiron will be relegated to the edges of the Internet, tucked up inside the shoulder blade hidden from the algorithms.

I’ve spent much of my life rooting for things like the flatiron. The overlooked cut. The independent butcher. The small farmer. The local restaurant. The story hiding in plain sight. And for a long time, I thought my previous lives were all disparate journeys. Separate short stories simply connected by a main character. Now, connecting those dots, it’s becoming clearer and clearer that they are chapters of the same story.

The butcher taught me how food systems actually work. The restaurant taught me hard work and hospitality. Public relations taught me how information moves through the world. Parenthood taught me patience. Writing taught me how to connect it all, and to put my own mark on the words.

For years I’ve wondered where this writing path was headed. And this week, when I felt like I’d summited one of the taller peaks, the view from up there simply revealed a whole range of summits and valleys left to trek.

And maybe that’s exactly how it’s supposed to work.

Connecting the dots isn’t really about finding a destination. It’s about realizing that the dots were never random in the first place. As the seasons change, I find myself reflecting on what I’ve planted, what I’ve nurtured, and what continues to grow. The food, the people, the places, and the stories. The rhythms of a life that only begin to make sense when viewed from a little farther down the road.

My younger self was always focused on the goal. Now, the goal is less about accomplishment, and more about simply becoming more fully myself. To appreciate that my curiosity is all I can impart to this world. To remember to take note of what others might overlook. To root for the flatiron when everyone else is chasing skirt steak. And to celebrate when a few folks want to come along for the ride.

If there is a lesson hiding in this strange season of life, perhaps it’s this.

The things that appear disconnected are often connected more deeply than I realized. If I can sit with them long enough, the picture begins to emerge. Not a picture of success, achievement, or arrival, but a portrait anchored in curiosity, experience, and attention—a picture that looks increasingly like the person I’ve been becoming all along.

Thanks for the lesson Bobby Flay.

If you missed, here’s the Food & Wine article resulting from my chat with Bobby Flay.

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