Grip, draw, anchor, aim, release.

One of the reasons why I became a chef was because I love being creative.

Growing up wasn't easy.

Both of my parents were severe alcoholics.

They drank to oblivion almost every night.

When I was around, I believe I was eight and my sister was ten, eleven.

She woke me up and said there was a fire.

We had a lazy boy, a chair that was on fire.

I engulfed in flames and my mother was passed out in her bedroom.

I would be told we can wake her up. She wouldn't wake up for anything.

So my sister and I had very young ages or standing there running back and forth from the sink,

putting out the fire with water.

I always said, hey, I'm never going to be like them.

I started to drink excessively myself.

I was about twenty-six.

I went out for two simple drinks and ended up blacked out on the wrong side of the road.

I woke up to blue lights.

I knew at this point something had to change.

I knew I had to surrender somehow.

I didn't think God would accept a hypocrite like me.

That I was too damaged to be loved or be loved by something greater than myself.

Baile was made the next...

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