Three Michelin star Chef Dominique Crenn will someday learn she was the impulse behind selling our award-winning inn in Provincetown - leaving everything we knew and smack in the middle of - to head 1500 miles away to start over. Again. And, it had nothing to do with cooking.

It was a Sunday afternoon in May 2018. My wife and I took Sunday afternoons off - as off as we could — from our 24/7 life as innkeepers. We headed back to our bedroom to snuggle into an episode or two of the beautifully shot Netflix food-doc Chef’s Table. We were completely seduced by an episode on Chef Crenn, one of the greatest chefs in the country, of Atelier Crenn in San Francisco. Known for her signature creative plating, each dish is a work of art -  and poetry, literally. Crenn’s menu is an actual poem with each course transcending words into gastronomic beauty.  The components of her recipes, even her meticulous movements of plating ingredients are elevated to a level of virtuosity. And, then it happened. We started to cry, simultaneously. I mean, we’re known for welling up over sappy commercials but this was different.  It wasn’t hormonal. We’re not on meds. Maybe it was the lunar cycle, but we were frigging weeping and we didn’t know why - and then we did. We separately kept leaping from the pillow to pause the show, each time plunging into deep convos about the richness and beauty of life and doing what we love, all inspired by Dominique’s deliberate moments of creating food as art. Where food is intentional. Where it is truth. Something about her way in the world elicited an intense personal reaction that had us tapping into something profound and sensory.

Why had we had such a visceral response to a food show?  But, it was more than a food show. We were watching a chef dazzle us with originality and a depth of creative expression that appealed to our hearts. She teased us.  And, the human imagination is a potent tool. Dominique, in her own culinary language, provided us with unmistakable context for what would shift our universe wide open. 

My wife Allison’s first inclination was to whisk me away to Atelier Crenn, meet Chef and eat her edible art, but knew we couldn’t get away until the following January, a mere eight months away. Eight months. Allison was crushed. Soon after the TV episode episode, we had to say no to a birthday party invite for a very dear friend who was turning 80. Eighty! Plus, there were a number of other family and friend special invites to which we had to sadly say no. Before we said yes to the 24/7-year-round inn keeper’s life in a resort town no less, we had reconciled ourselves to the reality that we’d be giving up a number of other life events — everyday dinner parties, weddings, house parties and summery salty walks on the beach.  But, inn life was really, really good. We had absolutely nothing to complain about. We were doing what we loved and felt genetically wired for. We got jazzed by doing a full house renovation to a historic home. Got totally intoxicated by the exquisite details that made a home sing.  Created gracious living spaces that made others feel happy, welcomed and nurtured. We built a profitable business where there once was none. Continually polished our entertaining skills.  Met people from all walks of life and shared incredible food experiences with others.  For us, life was a party, and we were hosting a never-ending one at our B&B in Provincetown - a town we were in love with. Plus, the mere nature of our jobs granted us access to a community that vibrated pretty high. I’d go as far as saying we had a strong psychological connection to Provincetown.  We embraced the town and its identity; felt like we belonged; had a level of influence; and we were personally invested.

How do you walk away from all of that? You just do when you’re following your heart.  

My wife and I wanted more downtime together — I know, 24/7 wasn’t enough. We wanted more freedom. More spontaneity. After almost 20 years, we still believe in thriving, not just surviving.

So, that afternoon, just under five years in and just when we thought we had the whole living-in-the-moment thing figured out, an unexpected life-changing episode shows up and boom. Two days later, we called a realtor…

Check in again and follow our journey.

Zestfully yours,

Ilene

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