One component of my writing is to try and give you a peek inside the world of professional food, to affirm and dispel the romance that surrounds the idea of being a chef, propagated in large part to the media driven image seen on the ubiquitous televisions shows that puff the celebrity and make cooking look like the cool, hip profession you’ve always longed for.
Let me make it clear; you did not want my job last night.
Every Saturday, usually around 4PM, a cloud of anxiety begins to form over my head, mostly from a knowledge of all the unchecked boxes on the list of prep that may or may not get finished on time because of that late afternoon crowd that shows up before we make the transition in the front of the house from lunch to dinner.