The Pizza Chef: A woman in pizza, part 2

As a woman in the pizza industry, I lead from my heart. I am highly intuitive and I listen to my inner guidance. Every time I’ve ignored or dismissed my gut instincts, I learn why it’s important to pay attention to them. 

Over many years, I have noticed that, no matter how clearly you communicate (whether in writing or by speaking), some individuals are unable to hear you, and you may have to repeat yourself several times. And even then, some individuals will still get you wrong. 

Not so many years ago, when tradesmen or salesmen would come into the restaurant and ask to speak to the owner, and I indicated I was she, they’d immediately ask if my dad was there. Another story that comes to mind happened after I’d won two significant national competition titles and also was the first Canadian finalist for a prestigious U.S. Gourmet Pizza competition.  One of my older, male delivery drivers announced to me that “all great chefs are men, not women.” Pointing to my awards, I asked him if that was really so and he insisted it was.   

During the years that I was regularly competing in North American and international pizza culinary competitions, a couple of fellow male competitors told me that I should be at home having babies, not out in the competition circuit. I asked them who taught them how to make a great pizza: who did they get their knowledge and inspiration from. They both looked at each other and with teary eyes said, “Nonna” – meaning their grandmothers. 

We talked about ingredients, and the care and skill you need to take in selecting them and then putting them all together to make a great pizza for your loved ones. I asked them, if either of their nonnas had ever wanted to enter a pizza competition, with one of her prize creations, showcasing her passion and talent, would they tell her she should only be home having babies?  

Just a few years ago, I attended a social gathering with an intro-to-Neapolitan-pizza-dough component. As a side note, I’m a certified graduate of an Italian Pizza School – one of the original schools. Back in 2008, I completed a 40-hour accredited course, when two master pizzaiolo instructors came to San Francisco to teach the first course on North American soil.  Even though I consider myself a lifelong learner, I attended this social evening as just that – a social event. I wasn’t there to teach the other guests; I was there to enjoy the evening. Imagine my surprise when a fellow pizzaiolo in attendance rudely talked over the master pizzaiolo instructor and lectured me about the role of yeast in pizza dough. I’ve known this pizzaiolo for years. I’ve won more awards than he has, achieved higher accreditation than he has, and had been judging pizza competitions and teaching pizza-making classes for over a decade. But, for some reason, that evening he spoke to me as though I’d never made a pizza dough in my life.  Looking back, I find it comical.   

Sometimes, no matter how many times you clearly communicate, or how many awards you’ve won, some individuals are still unable to hear you. But a man (pizzaiolo or otherwise) could echo the same message literally seconds after you said something, and suddenly it is heard. It can be frustrating. I know, from speaking with other women in pizza and also women in other industries, that they have had similar experiences. It took me a while to understand this is not a reflection of anything lacking on our part. It’s not a communication issue, it’s simply the other person’s set point. Most people don’t see you as you are; they see you as they are.  

This quote from Jillian Turecki says it beautifully: “People treat others based on their own level of consciousness, their emotional state, and their learned patterns. It has very little to do with you. And often, it’s a projection of something they can’t – or won’t – see in themselves.”

I’ve realized that you can spend a great deal of your time and energy attempting to be seen and understood, only to exhaust yourself, or, you can choose to limit the time you spend and work with such individuals, and even choose not to work with them altogether.

That said, in my extensive experience across the world, I have met, worked with and continue to work with many wonderful people: kindred spirits that recognize talent and dedication, and share a love and appreciation of this amazing food. People who not only want to work with me but are proud to. People who help make the industry fun, enjoyable and fulfilling.

Diana Cline is a two-time Canadian Pizza Chef of the Year, three-time winner of “Canada’s Best Pizza Chef” at international pizza competitions, judge for international competitions and CEO of Diana’s Gourmet Pizzeria. She is a consultant to other owner/operators in menu development, creating systems to run a pizzeria on autopilot and marketing to help operators grow their businesses effectively and strategically. Contact her at diana@dianascucinaandlounge.com.