...how when you go to eat at a restaurant- let's say run by a prominent NYC Italian chef, that the 'man behind the desk' is so rude to you because you are early but then realizes you have those special little letters next to your name that all of the sudden you hear, "Ah yes, Mr. ****** we've been waiting for you" with a grin bigger than Texas. I wonder where that kind demeanour was a moment ago when I walked in as a vagrant off 125th street? (in his eyes of course) . Actually, I would have much rather him been a prick the whole time; at least he would not have to suffer by acting like a phony "oh is there anything else i can get for you?" maitre'd. And it's too bad because the food was wonderful. Just goes to show you.
DCW_NYC
-H-
This blog is a place for wives, girlfriends, significant others, and anyone else stuck to a chef to come together and chirp to each other about how to deal with the nonsense that goes along with being the wife of a chef. I was struggling to live with a ghost of a husband who I never saw until I met two other chefs' wives that saved me. It was then that I realized there must be more who need love and support too, right? Hilary, First Lady Desperate Chefs'Wives instagram @hilarya25
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