Today is a very busy day and I have no time to exchange pleasantries. I have been conducting front of the house interviews for Bestiality (opening date TBD) and, upon speaking with one of these little shit-stains in particular, felt the need to re-open my diary after an admittedly prolonged absence.
It went like this – I was in the middle of explaining my firm policy of abolishing the tipping system so I can take from the undeserving waitstaff and give to my kitchen crew. Now what these front of the house types don’t understand is that everyone who works in the kitchen never had the opportunity to choose our profession. We were never able to walk into a restaurant and make a decision all by ourselves regarding whether we’d like to toil away in a hot, sweaty kitchen for $10/hr or work with the general public and increase our income potential astronomically. We never had the option of choosing a job that literally anyone can do which pays hundreds and hundreds more dollars per day than the other job that anyone can do, which we opted for. I knew that my hands were crafted by a god to do much more important work than dropping off plates, illegibly scribbling down orders, and smoking cigarettes before work.
So I’m in the middle of driving this point home brilliantly when this little bastard looks me straight in the eye and says, “Chef Todd, you DO understand that, if given the choice, a very high percentage of the world’s population would wholeheartedly agree that the job of the garbage man is exponentially more important and indispensable than the work that a chef does, right?”
While my knee-jerk reaction would be to drag this little worm into the bathroom and drown him in the toilet over the course of 5 or 6 hours, I knew that would take time and I, as previously mentioned, had a hostess/guest relations liaison interview in 10 minutes. I picked up the phone and started to dial 911, I figured I’d let the police sort this one out while they keep this little Neanderthal on ice. However, before I could even finish explaining his crimes to the dispatch person, he had neatly packed up his things and walked out the door, stealing one of my sought-after Bestiality ink pens in the process.
My rage knew no bounds, and I decided that I would write him a letter explaining exactly why I’m more important than a garbage man. I got up and left the public library in a huff, completely blowing off the hostess interview, and headed home to pen my retort. On the way, I passed the space where I think I may one day finally open Bestiality and realize my restaurant dreams.
Once safely at home with my laptop, I snipped a handful of fresh chervil from the garden, muddled it with Genever, and poured over ice. I needed a very special cocktail for this and as it turned out, the flavor program was just right. I will have my head kitchen farm bar mixo-chef-ologoist add this to our future cocktail list immediately.
First off, I do not believe in “garbage.” When I open my restaurant, not only will we secretly compost in all of our neighbor’s yards as a special favor to them, but all of the other refuse will put to use to create and beautify parks along the side of the highway. This Chef Todd museum/monument/gift to the people will be my way of giving back to the community while completely relieving myself of any need for trash pickup. This trend will one day be as important as solar power and electrical cars, and you can remember where you heard about it first.
Admittedly, I am too distracted to properly compose the letter, given that I have so many irons in the fire. In addition to trying to find a space for my debut restaurant, Bestiality, I am also in talks with investors about a 2nd, 3rd, and 4th space, including a better version of the edible forest from Willy Wonka at the Bestiliaty GastroPettingZoo.
If you are on my mailing list, you are very lucky. Not everyone’s inbox can handle the kind of tidings I bring, and this next announcement is no exception:
To commemorate the grand opening of my first restaurant, I will be holding a pop-up at my third restaurant, the virtual reality, “gotta shuck em’ all” oyster shanty, to promote my second eatery, a buffet that exclusively serves different interpretations of traditional communion wafers, each made with water and salt from different parts of the globe. Tickets will be $273/head (not including gratuity because I’ve stopped all of that) and will include pairings of natural, biodynamic, house-blessed holy waters – including the famous dessert holy water, Lacryma Chef Todd, a blend of hand-harvested tears from the rare occasion that I find myself crying over how perfect my food is. These pairings will be lovingly coordinated by our team of Holy Water Sommeliers.
I am out of time, but will leave you with a quote as always,
“If you are not extreme, then people will take shortcuts because they do not fear you”
– Marco Pierre White