Speak Up

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Googly Eyed Rat

So tell me why I spend my Scholastic bonus points on a Ratatouille book? There are plenty of other educational books I could have got for my students, but no-the first on the list was a book about a rat that can cook.

I'm a rat myself. Googly little eyes that bug out when even a glimmer of the word "chef" shows up within ten feet around me. I can't help it. I want to get my hands on all things chef; like if I don't embrace it then it will disappear.

It's like when your 8 years old and fall in love with Care Bears or Mickey, or Barbie and then all of the sudden everything you own must reflect that love. Soon your walls are covered in Care Bear comforters, lamps, rugs and sleeping bags. You've got the lunchbox, pencil box, and tv tray. The sweater your wearing has those damn bears on it and so does your underwear for pete's sake. If they had chef underwear-you know I'd wear them. Actually, those would be cute...little boy shorts with "chefwife" written on the back. Now don't go stealing that idea- chefswives only.


Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Says GQ

The August issue of GQ ran a blurb about kitchens and cooking and knives and all things such with a "5 Things You Don't" list. Nothing was worth making a reality show after, but number 5-decide for your self:

"A Sous Chef. Cooking with your wife guarantees a ferocious screaming match. Unless you're true soul mates, cook alone. Trust us."


Trust us? Who's us? A 32 year old male writer with a corner office who's never dated a chef let alone cooked anything but burgers with with his other baseball cap wearing Hobokenites? ( i might be terribly wrong. but im not. probably)

So I'm a little annoyed. No, I'd never cook with my chef, not my thing. But I certainly don't want anyone telling me I can't.

And I know there are a lot of chefswives out there who do cook with their hubbies. So I'm sticking up for you. Speak up.

It's cool though. I like GQ-except for the food and wine writer Alan whatever his name is. I'll complain about that later.


Saturday, September 22, 2007


My mother in law reads this blog and supports it. I appreciate that. A lot. She designed the logo too. Pretty snazzy huh? Well, she made me another sign the other day and I thought it quite fitting for us wives. I'll share it below:

I did make lemonade didn't I?



Thursday, September 20, 2007

Chef Wife Husband (The Simple Definition)

Chef Wife Husband – (noun) – a chef in a relationship with – although not necessarily married to – a chef wife. Usually has only one career, but spends what little time he has outside of work trying to make his chef wife happier and more tolerant of how much time he is spending at work. Understands terms such as: “sacrifice”, “hard work”, and “sleep deprivation”. Doesn’t understand but deals with concepts like: chef wives constant complaining about how much they work, the general assumption that we work holidays by choice (and do it just to spite them), the complaints of having cheap and quickly prepared meals after working a 16 hour days (We don’t ask you to continue to do your jobs when you get home after working for only half as long as we have), chef wives’ general feeling of “if you are only awake for 1 hour per day outside of work, then you better do everything in your power to make it the greatest hour of my life”, and the always prevalent entitled attitude. After all, aren’t we working this hard so we can become “big deals” and create a better life for the both of us?

written by the chef himself.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Whose Space?

Yep that's right ladies, the DC dubs have moved to myspace. I've decided to reach out to all the cool kids so if you've got a myspace-add me. Of course all the juicy drama and nonsensical writing will remain here.


Saturday, September 15, 2007

The Fine Print

I'm passing along this article to you my chefwife friends and other lovers of all things DCW because my mother-in-law gave it to me and well, it's worth passing on.

I certainly don't endorse everything said in the article, but for the most part-it sounds about right. EXCEPT for #7...you CAN change a man...and they can CHANGE you. Don't believe me? I don't care. Changing people isn't bad. It's when our attitude becomes static that we become ignorant and repulsive.

So have a read:


Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Who's Got it Worse?

So I'm sitting in bed with my chef this morning and I say to him, "Sometimes I wish I could just come home from work, kick off my shoes and relax like you do without having to clean the house".
And he responds with, "Well, that would never happen. I work A LOT of hours".

Yeah chef, but just because I work an 8 hour day and not a 12 hour day doesn't mean I deserve that nonsense. PAH-LEASE. I may not cater to hungry foodies but I do have to teach children. nuf said. Oh, then I come home, pay the bills, clean the house, make dinner, and all the other little bits of life that come pittering on my head. Not to mention I remain absolutely stunning day in an day out. ha.


Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Celebrate Our Unity, Honor Our Diversity

Once in a while this chefwife needs to reflect on a few things. This blog doesn't have to do with chefs or restaurants, but something greater.

A brass ensemble plays in the cool breeze of this September evening. There is a woman in red. She wears a flag on her shirt. Her eyes occasionally gaze up towards the east, towards the grave site of her loved one. A framed pictures of a woman in her hand.

I never felt this way before. It was September 11th, 2002 when I gained closer, 12 months after the fact. But today when I saw this woman mourning her loved one I felt something different: sympathy. Why did God choose to take away her loved one? Only she knows.

But as I stand here singing patriotic songs with my neighbors I am smiling proud. How could I not? The greatest city in the world is my next door neighbor.

I can't help glancing back at her. I wonder who the woman in the picture is. A sister? A friend? A neighbor? How many tears has she shed? How many times do her eyes wander towards a changed New York. How does she cope? Does she get angry? Terrified? Lonely?

My life seems to trivial compared to my neighbor in the red who lost her loved one. I think I'll go buy my chef something from the bakery. Life is too short not to say to the ones you love, "I love you"




I love you: erik, mom, david, dad, lorna, chris, tina, cosette, uncle john, aunt carma, josh, josiah, jesse, james, aunt caralee, uncle mike, kane, cadelee, olivia, mikalynn, uncle cam, grandma, grandpa (in heaven) and G & G eppley


Sunday, September 9, 2007

Boats and Blogs

OMG-I love blogging. The people I meet here are so much more breathable than everyone else. (My chefswives are definately breathable of course too) The net folks choose to come and here and I choose to go there. I love it. No fakeness, because what would be the point of that?

and another thing I love:

Have I mentioned how much I love the NYC area? And I have to say "area" because I technically live in Jersey City. And the best part too-NEWPORT. The best views, quiet people, boats and water, and not too many of those studio sized compact dogs. I've got the most tender little park with a mini lighthouse and a view of NY.

So today while I was soaking up some last minute summer sun I heard a rumble in the water. The NY Super Boat Grand Prix had super speed boats zipping up and down the Hudson to 42nd and back down again. And it was just this morning that I was reading in PXthis about Abbe Diaz watching the race from her JC pad. That's just weird, right? It's not deja vu-its something else-you hear about someone doing something, then it happens to you. I don't know-just weird I guess.

I wonder if Marja was watching from the other side of the river. She's like the ultimate chefwife. But I'm not a creeper like that. She just happens to live across the street/river from me. teehee.



Saturday, September 8, 2007

Latest Biz Craze

If you like 'meta-fictional restaurant drama' read this:

I don't have sympathy, but everyone else is up in arms over the new blog-anon on the net.

That was short-but I gotta bounce-dinner w/ a chefwife and a boatcaptainwife at Pasquale's Rigoletto in the BRONX.


Tuesday, September 4, 2007

[cake] Batter Up!

So I think about the restaurant industry quite often and I also think of analogies quite often. (I think it's a teacher thing) Anyway, it came to me one night that the restaurant world is parallel to Major League Baseball. Hear me out.

In the MLB you have two leagues: National and American and in the culinary world you've got your East and West coast restaurants. Each team is an actual restaurant (front and back of the house) and guess who the players are? You got it: the chefs. The big time players like your A Rods and your Barry Bonds are the executive chefs and sous chefs. The other not so popular players are the line cooks. They got a couple more season-ings to go before they gain the rep as the big timers.
And all the cooks and chefs want the same thing: their own baseball cards worth top dollar. If the chefs can make it to a baseball card worth mucho $$ then other owners will scout them out for a trade to a better team, offer them more money and make their baseball cards (aka repertoire) worth more. And the stats of each players are like the stars each restaurant has that the chefs and cooks all take claim in earning. The better your stats the better your restaurant. Right?

With me so far?

Then of course there are the coaches, the ones who teach and inspire and in the culinary world-that's the owner of the restaurant. The one who wants things done his way- and he's earned it. He has put in his time as a line cook running all the bases and earning the appropriate stats. The owners of the teams would be equated to the investors. They have all the $$$, but hardly any of the glory (or talent for that matter).

And what is a baseball game without a stadium? The stadium you see is the actual physical restaurant building. Wrigley field, and Yankee Stadium would be compared with Jean Georges and The French Laundry. The parking attendant tells you where to park your car, just like the hostess tells you which booth to park your a$$ in. Inside the stadium you need beer first so you you buy a cold one from the bartender behind the counter. And you cannot complete a true baseball game without a hot dog and peanuts-and who better to deliver to you than your server? The ones enjoying the game,the true fans, the ones oohing and ahing all over the place, the ones paying top dollar to see the chef-players perform, those are the restaurant patrons.

Now there is one more comparison I have to make. The personal trainers. They make sure the players are able to play at their best abilities, they save the players when they get a boo boo, they make suggestions and they have a close personal relationship with the players. Those would obviously be the chefswives. Yes, ladies we are the personal trainers in the world of chef-baseball. We heal them when they cry, we medicate their cuts, soothe their burns and get them in the best condition to play nine innings just to come home and do it all over again.