By Zac Unger
In 2006, Lai realized a lot of the chefs he was working with—not to mention the students he was teaching at the Northwest Culinary Academy of Vancouver—had no idea where their food came from and what it took to get wholesome, quality ingredients onto the plate. So he traded in his white toque and crisp apron for a pair of overalls and dirt-encrusted fingernails.
Lai started small, by taking his daughter’s elementary school class into the garden. But within just a few years, the program blossomed, and his Richmond Schoolyard Society now encompasses a 5,000 square foot garden, where over 1,500 kids each get a little plot of land to till, tend, harvest, and enjoy. “Classes” are taught on-site in the large-scale demonstration garden, and most of the kids in this Vancouver suburb attend school within walking distance.
“I teach them that he who owns the seeds owns the economy,” Lai said. “The garden is tactile, it’s visual. And kids intuitively understand a lot of concepts that they might have trouble with in the classroom.”
Many of Lai’s students come from immigrant, single-parent, or low-income families, and most have never worked in a garden before. “In the winter months, I actually become a little glum because when I’m working with the children, I really feed off of their energy,” he said.
Lai’s “farm to school” mission has expanded beyond gardening to include beekeeping, foraging, and even cooking with the actual fruits of the kids’ labors.
“People always ask me what my favorite restaurant is and I tell them that is a world I’ve left behind,” he said. “I prefer to eat real food made by people who care.”
And while Lai’s tomatoes will probably never be awarded their own Michelin star, his definition of success has changed from what it once was. Now, the thing that makes him happiest is “when I see a child’s eyes light up, when they have that ‘aha’ moment.” Apparently, sometimes success really does grow on trees. Or at least on beanstalks.
forbes.com
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Ian Lai had all the makings of a celebrity chef. Before he was 40, he’d already worked at the Four Seasons hotel and even been the resident chef for the consulate general of the United States. But he rejected the expected path of leading a much-hyped restaurant of his own for something more —a patch of earth he could call his own.Clik here to view.
After stints in a Four Seasons Hotel kitchen and as resident chef for the U.S. consulate general, Ian Lai opened a gardening school for children. (Photo credit: Rita Minichiello)
In 2006, Lai realized a lot of the chefs he was working with—not to mention the students he was teaching at the Northwest Culinary Academy of Vancouver—had no idea where their food came from and what it took to get wholesome, quality ingredients onto the plate. So he traded in his white toque and crisp apron for a pair of overalls and dirt-encrusted fingernails.
Lai started small, by taking his daughter’s elementary school class into the garden. But within just a few years, the program blossomed, and his Richmond Schoolyard Society now encompasses a 5,000 square foot garden, where over 1,500 kids each get a little plot of land to till, tend, harvest, and enjoy. “Classes” are taught on-site in the large-scale demonstration garden, and most of the kids in this Vancouver suburb attend school within walking distance.
“I teach them that he who owns the seeds owns the economy,” Lai said. “The garden is tactile, it’s visual. And kids intuitively understand a lot of concepts that they might have trouble with in the classroom.”
Many of Lai’s students come from immigrant, single-parent, or low-income families, and most have never worked in a garden before. “In the winter months, I actually become a little glum because when I’m working with the children, I really feed off of their energy,” he said.
Lai’s “farm to school” mission has expanded beyond gardening to include beekeeping, foraging, and even cooking with the actual fruits of the kids’ labors.
“People always ask me what my favorite restaurant is and I tell them that is a world I’ve left behind,” he said. “I prefer to eat real food made by people who care.”
And while Lai’s tomatoes will probably never be awarded their own Michelin star, his definition of success has changed from what it once was. Now, the thing that makes him happiest is “when I see a child’s eyes light up, when they have that ‘aha’ moment.” Apparently, sometimes success really does grow on trees. Or at least on beanstalks.
forbes.com
