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
Speak Up
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Vote for Maverik!
I entered this picture of Maverik in a photo contest and it ends tomorrow. There are over 1500 entries and Maverik debuted at number 6! But over the week he's dropped a bit. Please vote for him on any and all computers you can get ahold of!
Here is the link: Maverik!
By the way, the prize is $250-not bad, right? Remember, the voting ends tomorrow!
Thanks in advance!
Food is Love,
Hilary
Saturday, July 24, 2010
This Lonely Life
Today, and this whole week really, is one of those times when I feel as if I've been kidding myself every time I say that I'm used to being married to a chef. Who am I trying to convince anyway? Yes, I have come a long way from a whinny, complaining, glass-half-empty person, but I'm not living in some deranged stepford wife bubble. I'm lonely and I'm bored.
Erik has been working 6 or 7 day weeks putting in nearly 90 hours a week to open a new restaurant in the Financial District. I was lucky enough to get out of the house yesterday, sans Baby, and treat my friend to a "friends and family" lunch at the restaurant. But that was really just a sliver of normalcy.
I got back from visiting my family in Ohio a couple weeks ago. I spent two weeks there, and it was great. I was able to introduce Maverik to most of my family and enjoy all the benefits of grandparents. My mom put him down for his naps everyday and watched him so I could go to the gym with my sisters, lay out and otherwise not be tethered to the baby. It was fantastic. But now I'm home again and due to the heat wave here I haven't even been able to get Maverik out of the house much. Erik leaves for work before the baby and I get up and he's home much later than we've gone to bed. I'm still on maternity leave, so I don't even have the stress and responsibilities of work to distract me from my absent husband. I secretly wish he would come home one day and say that he's taken a job working nine to five as an All-Clad cookware tester or something. He'd scoop up Maverik in his arms, grab me close and say that he'd never open a restaurant again, that he'd never travel again and that being close to his family means more to him than anything else in the world....
As reality has it though- I married a chef. A chef who loves what he does. A chef who usually works Monday to Friday, so I really can't complain. I hope I don't seem ungrateful, although I know I do. I just needed to vent about how rough the last two weeks were.
Food is Love,
Hilary
Erik has been working 6 or 7 day weeks putting in nearly 90 hours a week to open a new restaurant in the Financial District. I was lucky enough to get out of the house yesterday, sans Baby, and treat my friend to a "friends and family" lunch at the restaurant. But that was really just a sliver of normalcy.
I got back from visiting my family in Ohio a couple weeks ago. I spent two weeks there, and it was great. I was able to introduce Maverik to most of my family and enjoy all the benefits of grandparents. My mom put him down for his naps everyday and watched him so I could go to the gym with my sisters, lay out and otherwise not be tethered to the baby. It was fantastic. But now I'm home again and due to the heat wave here I haven't even been able to get Maverik out of the house much. Erik leaves for work before the baby and I get up and he's home much later than we've gone to bed. I'm still on maternity leave, so I don't even have the stress and responsibilities of work to distract me from my absent husband. I secretly wish he would come home one day and say that he's taken a job working nine to five as an All-Clad cookware tester or something. He'd scoop up Maverik in his arms, grab me close and say that he'd never open a restaurant again, that he'd never travel again and that being close to his family means more to him than anything else in the world....
As reality has it though- I married a chef. A chef who loves what he does. A chef who usually works Monday to Friday, so I really can't complain. I hope I don't seem ungrateful, although I know I do. I just needed to vent about how rough the last two weeks were.
Food is Love,
Hilary
Monday, July 12, 2010
My Version of...
The Chef and I met years ago and food brought us together. I had never met anyone as interested in all things culinary like myself, as my future husband. This mutual passion has been a constant in our relationship and I must admit I feel a little trashy.
You see, the chef became a professional gourmet but I just remained obsessed.
One might use the term “foodie” to describe my pursuits. I now shake my head in disapproval, as I have always shied away from the term, “foodie”. Somehow I associate it with the whore at the rock show who rolls up on the band just hopping to get a piece. A groupie, who can't play an instrument but loves to going to the show.
Food might as well be the sexy lead singer and wine, the shirt less drummer because I throw myself at them each and every time I get the chance. No reserve, just smutty abandon. It is out of control. I want to know the details - the how, the who, the what and why. And like any good groupie, I don't stop until I get what I want.
Maybe one day I'll write about my lecherous escapades and late night romps with the dynamic duo. A seedy memoir of sorts. Until then I’ll simply continue to ponder my own perverse psychology, wondering why I can never say no and why I always want more….
-BK
You see, the chef became a professional gourmet but I just remained obsessed.
One might use the term “foodie” to describe my pursuits. I now shake my head in disapproval, as I have always shied away from the term, “foodie”. Somehow I associate it with the whore at the rock show who rolls up on the band just hopping to get a piece. A groupie, who can't play an instrument but loves to going to the show.
Food might as well be the sexy lead singer and wine, the shirt less drummer because I throw myself at them each and every time I get the chance. No reserve, just smutty abandon. It is out of control. I want to know the details - the how, the who, the what and why. And like any good groupie, I don't stop until I get what I want.
Maybe one day I'll write about my lecherous escapades and late night romps with the dynamic duo. A seedy memoir of sorts. Until then I’ll simply continue to ponder my own perverse psychology, wondering why I can never say no and why I always want more….
-BK
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Living in a Laboratory
From my friend, BK:
The chef and I moved into Brooklyn for more space. We knew this would be an easy task considering our first apartment was no larger than a furniture display at IKEA. Before moving, I dreamed of small dinner parties at an actual kitchen table and room on the counter top for things like a coffee maker.
I know, I know it’s the little things that make me happy….
The chef, however, had different plans. Room for the chef meant he could start a new food inspired hobby. I now live in a beta test kitchen for the chef’s microbrewery. My quirky yet adorable apartment smells like an unclean sports bar after a Big Ten football game. I spend my mornings tiptoeing around copper coils, bags of grain and carboys.
This might not be a problem for most people, but I am not graceful. I am not the girl that glides beautifully across the room. I am a100 pound bull in a china shop, smacking into everything on the floor.
Typically, I am overwhelmed by the chef’s enthusiasm for his career and his activities. Most of the time, I am a pretty awesome wife. However, the laboratory he has created now dominates my once clean kitchen. I love beer as much as the chef does but It’s difficult to throw a dinner party when the IPA is fermenting on the table. The process ends up looking like a dirty snow globe….exactly. Try and picture that.
Is it too much to ask for certain chef hobbies to be left at work? Do most chefs test their skills in their personal space? I need to know if this behavior is normal because I am about a 12oz. bottle of beer away from losing. my. mind.
The chef and I moved into Brooklyn for more space. We knew this would be an easy task considering our first apartment was no larger than a furniture display at IKEA. Before moving, I dreamed of small dinner parties at an actual kitchen table and room on the counter top for things like a coffee maker.
The chef, however, had different plans. Room for the chef meant he could start a new food inspired hobby. I now live in a beta test kitchen for the chef’s microbrewery. My quirky yet adorable apartment smells like an unclean sports bar after a Big Ten football game. I spend my mornings tiptoeing around copper coils, bags of grain and carboys.
This might not be a problem for most people, but I am not graceful. I am not the girl that glides beautifully across the room. I am a100 pound bull in a china shop, smacking into everything on the floor.
Typically, I am overwhelmed by the chef’s enthusiasm for his career and his activities. Most of the time, I am a pretty awesome wife. However, the laboratory he has created now dominates my once clean kitchen. I love beer as much as the chef does but It’s difficult to throw a dinner party when the IPA is fermenting on the table. The process ends up looking like a dirty snow globe….exactly. Try and picture that.
Is it too much to ask for certain chef hobbies to be left at work? Do most chefs test their skills in their personal space? I need to know if this behavior is normal because I am about a 12oz. bottle of beer away from losing. my. mind.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Fresh Look On Things
Meet my new pal:
I have been an avid reader of Desperate Chef Wives for some time now. I discovered Hilary and her blog shortly after she began writing. At the time, I had just moved across country with my husband in order for him to begin his professional career as a chef. Needless to say there were moments of loneliness. However, when I began to read Hilary's posts, that feeling dissipated.
Two years later and another move back across the country, I have learned an exceptional amount about the industry - for all it's faults and wonder. Now, Hilary is gracious enough to give me the opportunity to provide comfort, humor and fortitude in the same manner she provided me.
But who am I? Well first and foremost, I'm terrible at introductions. So rather than attempt to complete a clever and well-written description, I thought it would be best to unload a list of labels that give you a brief glimpse into my crazy little world....
Designer. City Dweller. Cocktail lover. Useless furniture collector. Lousy dinner cook. Wanna-be baker. Makeup obsessed. Beer advocator. Morning hater. High heel accumulator. Flea market shopper. Workout dodger. Roof top gardener. Wisecracker. Poor spelling skilled. Food captivated. Chef wife.
Again, I'm thrilled for the chance Hilary is giving all of us to connect and support one another. It takes a unique individual to live a life less ordinary and us wives, girlfriends and partners in this industry have quite a perspective. It's exciting to have a place to share the stories and anecdotes of our everyday experiences....all thanks to the first Desperate Chef Wife and happy new mother.....
Friday, July 2, 2010
It's Written On Her Face
Food is Love,
Hilary
Monday, June 21, 2010
And the Winner Is/My Blog is Dead
The book contest winner, by random selection is DCW_Jess! Congrats Jess, email me your address so I can forward it to the publisher. Jess won a new hardback book by Jane Green-Promises to Keep.
In other-yet related-news this blog is totally dead! This contest only had 2 applicants! TWO! I know I have not been keeping up with it. I am completely brain dead when it comes to new topics. I want to write because this blog has given me so much as far as friends and personal relief- but for the life of me, I just can't come up with new material. And I suppose in a way I should be grateful because my life seems, well, balanced now. I have less of a NEED to write to cure my own insanities. My husband is still working crazy hours, especially now with the opening of a new restaurant in lower Manhattan. He still travels at length, his next trip will be Chicago for 4 weeks in September. Even though my chefwife life is still the same, I'm more content with it. More able to attach the challenges as they come and accept the difficulties that come with the territory. I love my life, like I always have, but now it's more peaceful.
I'm not sure of the future of this blog...we'll see.
Food is Love,
Hilary
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Book Giveaway!
The good people at Viking have a copy of Promises to Keep by Jane Green ready to send out to a lucky Desperate ChefsWives reader. I've already started this novel about love and friendship and can't wait to finish it- in between midnight feeding and diaper changes. Of course the female chef character is one of my favorites a fresh change from the saturation of male chef characters in books and television.
Her younger sister, Steffi, the baby of the family, has never grown up. In her early thirties and the epitome of a free spirit, she’s never held down a job, or a boyfriend, for longer than six months. Her latest incarnation is as a vegan chef. She’s living with the latest unsuitable man, in a sixth floor walk up in Soho, and her parents have almost given up hope that she’ll ever learn what it is to be responsible.
Lila Grossman is Callie’s best friend. Single, she’s finally met the man of her dreams. Ed has a son she adores, a crazy ex-wife she doesn’t, and she finally feels ready to settle down. If, that is, their goals are the same.
And then there are Callie and Steff’s parents. Walter and Honor . Divorced for almost thirty years, they haven’t spoken for most of that time. They may share two grown-up daughters, but it is agreed by all who knew them, they share little else.
Until they all receive a shocking phone call that changes their lives forever, and brings them all together one short, snowy winter.
Promises to Keep is about the hard choices we sometimes have to make; about having to be a child, long after you’ve grown up, and mostly, about the enduring nature of love.
Jane Green has written 12 other novels, several of which made the New York Times bestseller lists. She'll be on tour this summer as well.
New York, NY- Upper East Side Barnes and Nobles: Tuesday, June 22- 7 PM
Charlotte, NC- Sykes Learning Center at Queens University: Thursday, June 24-6:30 PM
Pawleys Island, SC- Litchfield Books' Movable Feast- Friday, July 2-12 PM
From Jane Green's website:
Callie Perry has a pretty perfect life. It may not be everyone’s idea of happiness – her husband spends more time travelling for his job as a commercials director than he does at home – but it works for her. It gives her time to work – she is a successful family photographer – and be around for her two kids, and her friends. She lives in Bedford, New York, is beloved by all who know her, and wakes up every morning grateful for how happy she is.Her younger sister, Steffi, the baby of the family, has never grown up. In her early thirties and the epitome of a free spirit, she’s never held down a job, or a boyfriend, for longer than six months. Her latest incarnation is as a vegan chef. She’s living with the latest unsuitable man, in a sixth floor walk up in Soho, and her parents have almost given up hope that she’ll ever learn what it is to be responsible.
Lila Grossman is Callie’s best friend. Single, she’s finally met the man of her dreams. Ed has a son she adores, a crazy ex-wife she doesn’t, and she finally feels ready to settle down. If, that is, their goals are the same.
And then there are Callie and Steff’s parents. Walter and Honor . Divorced for almost thirty years, they haven’t spoken for most of that time. They may share two grown-up daughters, but it is agreed by all who knew them, they share little else.
Until they all receive a shocking phone call that changes their lives forever, and brings them all together one short, snowy winter.
Promises to Keep is about the hard choices we sometimes have to make; about having to be a child, long after you’ve grown up, and mostly, about the enduring nature of love.
Want a hardback copy of your very own? Just leave a comment sharing what you look for in a friend. Common interests? Companionship? A pal to laugh with? A serious soul sister? I'll chose a winner randomly on Sunday, June 20 so submit before then! Good Luck!!
Food is Love,
Hilary
Monday, April 12, 2010
Eat Chicago
Chefwife, Sondra, from Minneapolis, wants to plan a surprise trip to Chicago for her husband. What a great idea by the way! Her dilemma is that she has no idea where to take him to eat. And I have to admit, I have no clue either. She's seeking our help here. Does anyone know of some great places to eat in the windy city? Or even better, do your husband or boyfriends know of any great places to eat? Sondra is a bright lady and knows that chefs are not easy to please and won't be satisfied with the local Olive Garden or Red Lobster. She is interested in really impressing her man with some respectable and delicious food.
Erik recently bought a cookbook from a place called Alinea in Chicago. They've got fantastic reviews and I know a group of chefs who flew to Chicago just to eat there. That's a start-but it's all I've got-until I talk to Erik.
So let's get our ideas flowing and help out Sondra.
Thanks ladies.
Food is love,
Hilary
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