Chapter 1: An Immigrant Coming Up From The Bottom

It was once said that food was a gateway to learning about a culture and, by extension, the chef themselves. To some, food is just food. Something you just enjoy with others. To others, it's a lifestyle. A form of expression and a way to share something special with your community. To one chef that this was truer than to most others. That chef was Alexander Hamilton.

Hamilton's story isn't the most pleasant one. Born from an impoverished Scottish chef father and a young Caribbean mother, the odds weren't stacked in his favor. His father left the small family he had made when Hamilton was only eight due to excessive debt. He did, however, leave something behind when he left; a beaten up, leather-bound book. A small collection of the finest recipes he'd gathered over the years. Whatever they did with it didn't matter to him. Not at all.

Hamilton's mother did use the book. She never had enough money to feed her two boys; Alexander, being the youngest of the two with his elder brother James, so she made money where she could. For its size, St. Nevis had a relatively large population and there was always something to celebrate. A wedding, a birthday, a random party, graduations; Hamilton's mother catered them all. They didn't bring in much, but it was enough to keep her family feed and warm most nights.

Then the sickness came. A strange and sudden outbreak of yellow fever swept the island. Hamilton and his mother both succumbed to it, but only Hamilton survived. He kept his mother's book with him as he and his brother were separated for the rest of their lives. James had left a few of his own ideas in the book from time to time too. Hamilton never let the book far out of his sight for long. He was moved in with a cousin for a while. Hamilton cooked for him, it was something he enjoyed and his cousin encouraged him to keep at it. So he did. He liked living with his cousin. At least until he found him hanging by a rope in his study.

So, the youngest Hamilton was alone in the foster care system again. He was placed in a loving home with a family of five; a mother, father, two girls, and a baby boy. He cooked most lunches, breakfasts and some dinners to thank them and they appreciated it. He also took on a job at a small restaurant as a busboy. Well, at least at first. When the owner happened to try some of the teen's food, he was moved into a paid position under the head chef, an older man named Alejandro. Hamilton liked the life he found himself in. He saw a good future for himself.

Then the hurricane came. St. Nevis saw devastation like it never had before. Hundreds were killed and thousands more were missing or injured. Hamilton's foster family, the owner of the restaurant and several others Hamilton worked with were among the casualties. St. Nevis had been almost completely decimated and the people were suffering. Hamilton, having grown into the most stubborn and determined nineteen-year-old that would ever grace the world, wasn't having any of the hand he'd been dealt, so he did the only thing he could think of doing. He cooked. It was a modest meal, a rice and chicken recipe his father picked up from India and his mother added a Caribbean flare to. It was easy and quick to make and could be spread thickly. He started with the youngest local kids, then their older siblings, then their parents, and so on until most people in the area were fed. Word got around quickly and more and more people showed up to see what all the fuss was about. Hamilton just kept cooking. He wasn't sure where it would take him, but he knew he needed to do something other than wallow over all that he lost.

It was a normal day when everything changed for Hamilton. He was serving food to a group of elderly people when a man approached him. He recognized him as the head chef he worked under. Alejandro pulled him aside and gave him a stuffed envelope. He opened it and couldn't contain his shock. The envelope was filled to the brim with money. He looked up at the chef to demand an answer but stopped when he saw the look in his deep brown eyes. He looked tired and beat down, everyone did after the hurricane, but his eyes had hope in them, but not for himself.

'... Toma esto, mi muchacho. Tómelo y salga de este lugar."

Take this, my boy. Take it and leave this place.

Hamilton gasped and tried to speak up. He wanted to tell him that he couldn't accept this. He could handle it on his own. But his former mentor raised a hand to silence him.

"Alexandere, eres un joven excepcional y un cocinero increíble. Usted puede tener un futuro más allá de esta ciudad. Másallá de esta isla. Toma esto y vete, muchacho. Hazte un nombre por ti mismo."

Alexander, you are an exceptional young man and an amazing cook. You can have a future beyond this town. Beyond this island. Take this and go, my boy. Make a name for yourself out there.

Hamilton looked down at the envelope and mentally counted it all. It was enough to buy a passport and one-way ticket to the US. The United States of America. It was a dream of his to go there someday, but after everything that's happened, he thought it was hopeless to dream about the impossible. He looked back up at Alejandro, who had slight tears in his eyes.

The elder chef placed a hand on the younger's shoulder and gave him a small smile, "Vamos, hijo mío. Nunca olvides tusraíces y haznos sentir orgullosos. Tal vez venga y visite una vez que haya hecho su marca. ¿Bien?"

Go on, my boy. Never forget your roots and make us all proud. Maybe come and visit once you've made your mark. Alright?

Hamilton looked down at the envelope again and smiled. He tucked the envelope away in his pocket and practically beamed at the elder chief, "... Voy a. Gracias. Muchas gracias señor. No te defraudaré. Lo juro."

I will. Thank you. Thank you so much, sir. I won't let you down. I swear it.

The former head chef chuckled and ruffled Hamilton's brown locks, "Harás bien ahí fuera, muchacho. Todos sabemos que puedes. Promesa de comportarse, ¿de acuerdo?"

You'll do good out there, my boy. We all know you can. Promise to behave yourself, alright?

Hamilton couldn't help but chuckle, "Está bien, lo prometo."

Okay okay, I promise.

Alejandro chuckled, took a step back and motioned towards the group waiting to be fed, "Te dejaré volver a trabajarentonces. Buena suerte Alexandere."

I'll let you get back to work then. Good luck Alexander.

The young chef smile widened and started to head back to work, "Gracias señor. Para todo."

Thank you, sir. For everything.

Alejandro nodded as Hamilton got back to serving the people.

It was about a month later when Hamilton was ready to leave. He had set all of his affairs in order, bought his passport and purchased a one-way boat ticket. Alejandro, a few of the other living members of the restaurant and some people who had known his family for years came to see him off. There were some tears and some very nice words said before the boat whistled, signaling that it was time to board. After giving Alejandro a well-meaning goodbye, Hamilton boarded the boat. He kept his eyes on the island he'd known all his life as it fell behind the horizon. He turned towards America and smiled. He was on his way.