How Did I Become a Celebrity Chef?

I am embarrassed to admit that I was not a good student. Like many chefs, I had a troubled youth. Too many silver stars in elementary school, not enough gold. In high school, I was taking home B pluses on a regular basis, my head hung in shame. Even my extracurricular activities suffered. My polo team didn't make it to nationals for the first time my senior year. Was it a coincidence that I couldn't make my backshot even on a made pony? I don't think so. I was so distracted with addictions and emotional torment.

The video game “Burger Time” was my drug, my high. I would spend tens of minutes in a row, playing, playing, playing. A layer of bun here, a layer of patty there. The eggs and hot dogs would chase and torture me in my sleep. But I couldn't stop. Little did I know that this would be subconsciously laying the culinary foundation on which my celebrity empire would be built. It's no surprise that when I lunch with Bobby Flay, Spike Mendelsohn, or Mayor McCheese, they all point back to this pivot 80s-era video game as the inspiration for their unique burger restaurants.

Out of high school but dealing with a serious BT hang-over, I decided to follow my heart and travel the world. But I was going to do it the hard way: no four or five star hotels for moi. As cliché as it sounds now, I was going to get to know myself by roughing it – spending lots of my parent's money doing things that are illegal in the States. Yeah, so typical, right? You have the benefit of hindsight. I, at the time, only had the benefit of double-vision for five or six hours a day.

I will save the details of those fourteen months for another book, but rest assured the only things more colorful than my experiences were the bruises that I had acquired on my taint. To give you some highlights, though, I swam with dolphins in Thailand. I ate roots and leaves in inner Mongolia. I started a social networking website in Chile. And, like many men my age, I have no memory of Germany. Although my tattoos seem to indicate I lost multiple bets to a man named Schroeder.

Had I found myself? No. I wasn't looking in the right place. I returned to the States with a passport full of stamps but a heart void of love. I didn't know that these times would later prove to have such an emotional impact on me. I would now be able to make up stories about foods I've eaten in lands far away for many years and TV shows to come.

Back in the USSA, my parents weren't speaking to me. Only on holidays, during visits, whenever I called, and every weekend when they called me. I felt like I had been abandoned by the only people who cared about me. With no money to speak of save for two trust funds, I was at a dead end. I knew I could only rely on my instincts. It was a big moment for me. How was I going to get out of this hole? How was I going to make my life better? NO – how was I going to make my life AMAZING while at the same time making everyone else's life better by inserting my personality?

Food. The great storyteller of the world's history. Food. The great equalizer of the rich, the poor, and the so-called middle class. Food. That which gives life. That which makes the world go 'round. I would use food as my entree into the world's hearts. And not just because there was an immediate opening for a line cook at the Waffle House. Man you are cynical.

It was there, at the Waffle House, that I learned the difference between scattered and covered. The importance of 'hot spots' on the griddle. How to memorize fifty orders at a time and still smoke my cigarette. Ahh, those were the days. Doing it because I loved the smell of grits and coffee. Doing it because the customers liked their eggs 'chewy' so they wouldn't hurt their gums. Doing it for fifty cents over minimum wage. Before my life was consumed with PR agents and CPAs and investors and the IRS, it was just me, the Waffle House and a dream to be my best. To make the best hash browns I could. To serve the freshest cup of day-old coffee possible. To fly among the stars, smelling of crispy bacon and pecan batter.

My journey to becoming a celebrity chef did not end at the WH. From there, I moved up the ranks in the culinary world, a trail blazed by the greats who came before me: Julia Child, Larry Forgione, the Swedish Chef. From the Waffle House I went to IHOP. From IHOP I went to Denny’s. From Denny’s I went to the Golden Coral. Now I know what you're saying – you skipped Ponderosa? Yes, yes I did. Clearly I was on the fast-track, and no one was going to stop me.

When I had peaked at TGI Friday's, the world was my deep-fried oyster. I was no longer answering to a boss, only to a higher power. Well, I guess technically I was answering to our general manager, but he asked me to do things rather than told me. “Chef Matthew, why are we out of boneless Thai chicken wing hats again?” “Chef Matthew, will you put your pants on?” “Chef Matthew, is there anything you won't do for your love of the culinary arts?” I would stop everything and look at him directly in the eye: “No, sir. There is nothing I won't do for my love, my passion, for the world of food.” He would wait a beat and respectfully volley back: “Then please stop smoking in my kitchen.” Smoking in his kitchen. You bet your bottom dollar I was kicking butt, or 'smoking,' in his kitchen. And not just me, my entire staff. Manuel, Jesus, Tony, Pedro and myself – we were well on our way to stardom. Well, I was. They all got fired for smoking in the kitchen.

Then one day it happened. I was in my chef whites, having a drink at the bar as the kitchen had just closed. I was flirting with the woman who would later become my wife. My peacock feathers were fully flourished. A man from Cooking Food TV was traveling through town on his way to judge a working chocolate jet-ski contest. He overheard me describing one of the specials from the following day's menu. My enthusiasm, my excitement, my mixed metaphors – they blew him away. Right then and there he made me an offer: “come to new york,” he said, “and we'll consider you to be one of the food preps in the test kitchen.” He didn't have to ask twice. He did anyway 'cause he had had quite a few rainbow-colored slushi cocktails, but it wasn't necessary. In my head, I was already there.

The next day, I quit my job, proposed to Lori, and we were off on the most amazing culinary adventure ever told.

Celebrity Chef Matthew is not only the most famous and successful chef in the world, he's a two-time recipient of the James Beard "Chef of the Eternity" Award. You can follow him at http://twitter.com/TVsChefMatthew, http://www.vimeo.com/celebritychefmatthew and http://www.facebook.com/pages/Celebrity-Chef-Matthew/157600940949366.