Number One

Last night Erik, his mother and I listened to a message on her answering machine. I've never heard anything like this in my life. You be the judge of who was calling. In a deep man's voice we heard:

Hey, it's Number One. Looking for my girls. Call me.

WHAAAT?! Automatically I thought pimp. Right?

DCW_LA
-Hilary-

Sight of a Wife

Can't see it clearly!

After 25 years on this beautiful and fragile Earth, my eyes are starting to go! This wife needs glasses. Damn. What a year: my first gray hair and blurry eyesight. Thank goodness I still have my figure. And as I speak I'm out of breath from these forward rolls I saw some gymnasts doing. Try lying on your back then rolling up (to a complete stand) onto one foot while the other leg is completely extended in front. TOUGH.

But beyond that I'm grateful tonight that I don't have to pick up Erik from work. The PATH trains are down from the Jersey side up to 33rd St. The Holland Tunnel is closed one lane too, so no way. I wasn't thrilled about possibly having to get Erik at 1 am tonight and he gave me a hard time about it. I was honest and direct (something I work on with great effort) and he still got mad.





P.S. Shakes at Sonic are 99 cents; can't beat that!



DCW_NYC
-Hilary-

Why Oh, Why Oh, Did I Ever Leave Ohio?

At home with the family, and the knight. My brother is in the pink shirt.

An Ohio fried pickle.

I just got back from a short trip to Columbus where I saw my brother Chris graduate from high school. The hardest part about going home to Ohio is leaving. I want nothing more than to live near my family. But it's so hard to convince the chef to move there. I don't blame him either. Columbus isn't known for its innovative food scene. Then again, who's to say Erik can't change that? It is a constant struggle with us, mostly after I get back from a trip to see my family.

It's not just because I miss my family, but aslo I can't imagine ever having children here. I just don't have the same support system. I've tried to root myself in this area, but it's not that easy when I'm alone myself most of the time. I am able to make connections here, but Erik and I, as a family are not. Ah, this is so hard! I struggle between wanting to be a supporting wife and wanting what I want!



For now, I'm loving the life I have and getting back home as much as I can. Maybe some day...

DCW_NYC
-Hilary

Graduation Time

Congrats, Christofori!

I'm leaving in 3 minutes to go back home to Ohio to see my brother graduate high school. I am so happy for him! He's got a lot going for him and I can't wait to see his life unfold. So, I won't be able to post until at least Tuesday. Sorry! See you all soon!

DCW_NYC

-Hilary-

Summersault, the cat.

This beautiful cat is very sick. My life is flipped upsidedown. Be back later.

Hilary

From Ohio to LA, NY to Newport

With my 25th birthday aprroaching in seven days I'm getting a bit serious and opening up with a brief totally abridged story of my life. Enjoy.

July 4th 1982 my parents’ lives changed forever. They got pregnant with a tiny baby girl born on March 28th, later to be known as the “perfect sister”. Though they were committed to me, my parents don’t care much for each other. My father: a conservative electrician retiree of the coal mines of central Ohio. My mother: a domestic engineer, mother of four and the best nurturer.

I was born in Zanesville, Ohio and lived between my parents with most of my time spent with my mother. As any good Ohio family we were and remain very close. Grandparents lived close and cousins were always best friends. I started kindergarten in Los Angeles where my mother lived with her new husband. My step dad: a PhD toting musician and composer and all around nice-guy. We lived in California for seventeen years acquiring three more siblings as the years past. We gained a dog, a pool, life long family friends and neighbors and in 2004 said our most painful goodbyes to the Golden State.

I had a normal life, keeping in mind that no one really has a normal life. We sometimes ate dinner at Costco, went to church in Malibu, and played 40 -man games of hide and go seek with the neighborhood kids. Of course that was after we moved to the San Fernando Valley. My mother made home-made piñatas for birthday parties and our patio furniture was refurbished with fish-patterned plastic tablecloths. My step dad warmed up on our piano before going to work while we built legos and watched The Simpsons.

My siblings are much younger than me, now 18, 16, and 13 so I played a mother role to them that I’m still trying to kick. I love my brother and sisters and every time I visit them I’m impressed more and more by their independence and creativity. I can’t wait to watch them grow more.

I went to middle school and met my chef. I went to high school and dated my chef. I went to college and watched my chef leave for culinary school in New York. I went to California State University to become a teacher. I lived on my own with a lovely roommate whom I’ve been lucky enough to reconnect with after four years. All the time we lived in California my parents wanted to go back to Ohio. In 2004 they sold their house and I’ll never forget dropping my siblings off at the airport. I had never cried so hard and had my heart hurt so badly.

With my family gone and Erik on the east coast I decided California had nothing left to offer me. It’s a wonderful place to raise a family, but I just couldn’t be there without mine. So I moved to New York. Erik came back to Los Angeles for a few months then we drove to New York together with all we had packed in a Corolla and a Scion. We lived in upstate while Erik was a line cook. I finished my teaching education while coaching gymnastics- a passion of mine since I was 14.

2005 was a frightening and enlightening year. Erik and I got married in October which fell between the deaths of my grandfather and grandmother respectively. Some of the most meaning memories I have of my family are in the funeral home pouring over the photos of our lives and exchanging looks of astonishment as the line for the viewing spread into the other rooms. They were both amazing people with strong ties to Jesus, their family and community. They’re still with me.

As Erik moved up through the Jean Georges Empire we decided it was time to move on....up. We fell in love with the neighborhood of Newport in the waterfront district of Jersey City. It was the first time we felt like we “made it”. The whole time I was packing up the old dingy dark apartment with squirrels in the roof I couldn’t help singing the theme to The Jeffersons.

I’m grateful for my life now. Something I’ve always said, but never believed. I have a loving, supporting husband, a comfortable home, and a dear friend I couldn’t imagine being without. I work at an amazing school in a city that I love contributing to. I go home back to Ohio when I need. I laugh out loud with Jay Leno, savor afternoon snacks and adore this blog. Thank you for allowing me to have this outlet.

DCW_NYC
-Hilary-

Desperate Chef's ...Butcher?

I have no shame.

I was digesting the latest episode of LOST last night in bed when I came to a revelation: "If I had to work in a restaurant I think I'd like to be a butcher. I think I'd be good at analyzing a slab of meat and deconstructing it."

To which my lovely chefhusband replies: "You could never be a butcher, you'd have to sharpen your knife every night".

Oh wow, thanks for pointing that out, I was just about to quit my amazing teaching job to be a butcher! GEEZ, can't I just have a stupid, silly pipe dream? Seriously!

What would you want to do if you had to work in a restaurant? Would you be a pastry chef with a clean, precise job? Would you be a sommelier decanting and suggesting? Or would you be a chef, demanding, compulsive and powerful?

DCW_NYC
-Hilary-

I stole something...

Today I was in the Costco in P-town, Ohio shopping for refreshments of a sweet nature for an event tomorrow night. My step-dad is playing his annual advent concert at Liberty Presbyterian Church (where I was married) and we were picking up some obviously large quantities of cookies. As we got out of the car we saw a woman drive away,leaving something in her cart. She pushed the cart into the "cart parking spot" leaving a glowing bag of blood oranges behind.

Then we took them.

DCW_NYC
-H-


So was it wrong? Did I really steal? If so,who from? The woman? She left them.Yes I know, the most absolute righteous thing to do would have been to bring them into the store and give them to lost and found: produce division. But I didn't. So what right?

Thanksgiving Minus the Chef

So one of my new chefwife pals, BB, gave me a great idea for a post. Which I love because YOU are my inspiration...and the wind beneath my wings and all that crap.

With Thanksgiving just a few short days away I'm curious to know what all of your plans are? Is your chef home? Are you going to visit your folks? Cooking for one? Parade? Football? Let's hear it!

As for me, my most perfectly imperfect family is coming out from Columbus, Ohio to stay for several days and watch the parade from chefwife J's office on Broadway-among other things. You know we'll be hitting up Canal St. for some Christmas gifts. My chef is working so my family won't even get to see him. Been there, done that! I'm so annoyed. BUT on the bright side, because there is always one) my folks will FINALLY get to eat at Perry St. As much as I will miss my man on Thanksgiving one of the best perks to being a chefs' wife is when you see him walk from his kitchen in his whites to greet you at your table. Nothing better. For those few instances when he's with you at the table you feel as if you are married to the most important man in the world. But really, aren't we all?

As far as Thanksgiving food goes, it might be something on Mulberry St, it might be Chinese food because there is no way I'm cooking. (I have no idea how!)

Leave some comments on your plans!

DCW_NYC

-H-

My most perfectly imperfect family. July 07 (minus the chef of course!)

Loss for Words

Hello All. I definitely wish I could have been around more this week, but its been cray-zay. And now that I am sitting down in my most favorite spot I'm suffering from acute writers block. Mainly because I'm not really a writer. Yes, the jig is up.
So please help me by telling me what you like to read about the most here. Interviews? (I'm thinking of a certain chef I'd like to get my hands on) News in the biz? Have you got any funny stories for me? Talk to me!
DCW_NYC
-H-

The Big 5-0.

Yes that's right my last post "Jean-Georges" was my fiftieth post! I haven't been around that long as a blogger but 50 is a milestone no matter how you look at it. As I celebrate this 50th post I am elated and grateful. Grateful for every person who reads my blog-even once. I am indebted though to the people who follow this blog and support the DCW.

Thank you readers! Please keep me on my toes: tell me when I say something you love or hate. Tell me your woes and your joys as a chefwife or member of this INSANE industry.

DCW_NYC

-H-

Look for a post about a my personal collection of kitchen essentials. You guessed it: the pots and pans.

There's Been A Hold Up

Greetings Wives!

I have to apologize for not writing in over a week. I have been working more than ever and the chef is on a new schedule as well (more hours of course) so things have been a bit bumpy around here. (I'm eating mashed potatoes for breakfast, does that tell you anything?)

I've got a few new articles I'm working on such as "knives: the extension of the chef" and a couple others. Plus we have to talk about a couple new shows that involve chefs and chefswives.

Sorry for the delay-you'll get your stuff soon.

DCW_NYC
-H-

Beware the Vanity that Blows in your Commode

You remember when you used the hairdryer for the first time: your dad came into the bathroom and told you NEVER to have that thing near the tub as you thought to yourself, "Who would even do that?" Well, I must have forgotten that speech today.

No I didn't try to dry my hair while soaking in the tub. I didn't even drop it in the tub. Worse. My hairdryer fell into the toilet. The toilet! No one ever warned me about the commode!

I set my dryer on the counter (which is really just a sink with some extra space) and it crashed down onto the toilet seat and as it seemed like minutes went by in just a short mini-second my hairdryer was in the toilet. It was still running as my mouth dropped open. I froze. My greatest fear in life is electrical shock. Maybe caused by too many accidental run ins with the electrical fence around the corn on Grandpa's farm. Who knows.

Either way, I found myself back to reality and like the brilliant woman that I am I turned off the lights. I have no idea why I did that, but I think at the time I just wanted all the electricity off. Well, of course the dryer was still running! I could hear the water flowing through it. I turned to the socked with the plug. No sparks. That was good. I think. But there was no way I was going to touch that thing. No freaking way. So I grabbed my round brush and beat that plug until it dropped from the socket-into the sink. Why did I do that? But I had to.

So there I was starring at a hairdryer in my toilet. What now? Can I touch it? Will I die? I called the doorman, what a good guy, told me to take it out, that I was safe. And I did. And where was the chef? Working of course.

The moral of the story (you pick):

A) Vanity can be [near] deadly.

B) Turn off the dryer before you set it down, anywhere.

C) Get a larger bathroom with plenty of counter space.

DCW_NYC

-H-

PS sorry for the lack of spaces on this post. whats up with that?