As long as I can keep it interesting, I think the editor will let me keep singing for my supper, and if I can’t, at least I have the know-how to cook it for myself.

Most that know me or have at least read my bio at the end of this column have questions about one chapter of my life. Specifically, the part where the only thing that stood between me and a panel of celebrity chefs was an overcooked chop of wild boar that was compared to the likes of food on Air Cambodia. I packed my knives and left, but I haven’t unpacked many of the stories from my time on Top Chef. Lucky for you, I’ll share a couple.

When I stepped in front of rolling cameras and BRAVO producers, I didn’t perform to the best of my ability, and there weren’t enough camera angles or theatrics to change that fact. I had absolutely no clue what I had gotten myself into.

Imagine thinking that you’re at the top level of performance in your chosen field only to discover that you weren’t. Or you were, but in reality, a performance in front of rolling cameras and time limits moves the goal posts ever so slightly. Sink or swim.

The entire experience took much longer than you would expect. Filming doesn’t happen all at once. There were multiple takes and shots over the span of several days that were very long, and that was for just one episode. After the series wraps, you do appearances for the episodes of “where are they now” and the “finale” for the winner, where you attend as an audience member.

From jet setting to Miami, Chicago and Los Angeles to attending a Christmas party at a producer’s home in Beverly Hills, the whole thing seems like a dream when I look back on it now. After moving back to Columbus from such a surreal lifestyle, the easiest thing to do was to play dead and hope no one noticed me. After all, we are in “possum” town.

When people discover that I was a chef and had a small appearance on TV, they instantly open up to me about their own cooking experiences. Maybe my dance with destiny and fall from grace provides a safe space for them to tell me of their successes and blunders while at the cook top. How could someone like me pass judgment? Perspective is all I have left.

So here’s the short version. Bourdain was actually really nice. He had a character to play, but don’t we all. I was the first one to “pack my knives and go,” which was a proverbial gut punch and ubiquitous sigh of relief.

Hindsight being 20/20 is a cruel joke. It’s funny how we remember the things we wish to forget, and we forget some of the things we wish to remember. The mistakes, the missteps, and the unsaid words seem to hang around. I’m not really sure why. Maybe to teach us those hard lessons that none of us want to learn. After all, if we got it right every time, what would be the point?

The cameras were always rolling and standing out was a strategy that I learned a little too late. When I see reality shows today, it’s not hard to spot the formula for being relevant. Of course on a show like Top Chef, your cooking talent is what sustains, but a little bit of extra personality can keep you afloat a bit longer.

I see all of that now, but that wasn’t the lesson I learned through my hindsight. I learned how to really go for something and not succeed. And the precarious part of that lesson was how I handled not getting what I wanted. Learning how to hold your head high after feeling at your lowest is a daunting task, but remarkably we all have the power to do it with or without the cameras rolling.

Shifting gears, I see that challenge ahead of each of us in the months to come. We have recently had a mayoral election and for some of you, your candidate won. For others, defeat. For whatever reason important to ourselves, we manage to attach our feelings to the outcome of elections. No one is right or wrong in this scenario unless they are mishandling their responsibility to be a good citizen in the process.

When I stood at that judges table on Top Chef, an injustice had taken place. I was asked to leave due to my performance, while one of the other contestants was allowed to stay, despite a crucial mistake he had made. Long story short, the challenge was surf and turf, and he only got one of the two proteins onto his plate and didn’t complete the challenge. Looking back, if I had reacted and showed anger and disgust, it probably would have taken me further in the competition. Instead, just like that, it was over for me.

The upside to the down was that I walked away with my head held high. Take it from me, defeat is no fun. The key thing for that, is to remember how to handle not getting what we want. That response will define us all. Wishing failure upon the winning candidate would be like boarding a plane and wanting the pilot to crash. We are all on board together, so it’s up to us to be good passengers.

We all find ourselves at the judges table in some capacity. For Columbus, it’s how we view our neighbor. The elephant in the room is tired. I think it’s time to allow it some rest. We are actually the same. None of us want defeat and that is not a bad place to start.
I’m not special for my experience. I just chose to eat my humble pie in front of a national television audience. Like I said before, I seem to be a glutton for that type of thing. It was an honor to make the cut among thousands of other chefs, and now it’s an honor to get to share it with you. I can now view it in reality from my perspective, and what a lucky view it has been.

So don’t hold back. Cook with all your heart and serve it proudly. It will always be good for someone. Believe me, my sandwich always tastes better when my wife makes it. I rarely run into anyone that complains when you cook for them unless it’s part of the script.

Also never mind the critics. It’s all just a matter of perspective anyway, and when faced with defeat, own it proudly and have your own reasons to rise above it. It sure beats the alternative. If my singing voice holds up, I’ll gladly continue sharing my nickel’s worth of free advice. I’ll try to make sure it always gets better because you won’t believe some of the stories I’ll have to share with you, and if you don’t have anyone to cook for you I’ll be happy to. You won’t even have to tell me if it’s good or bad, that episode has already aired.

Clay Bowen is a Columbus native who cooked professionally as a chef in fine dining for 12 years and appeared on the third season of Top Chef. He is also a licensed landscape horticulturist and is currently the general manager of a local landscaping company. Bowen writes in his free time and is working on a book about his experiences and travel.

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