I am not a career restaurateur, food service professional, or even one who has worked in the industry in a supporting role. I worked at Marie's Luncheonette in my mid-teens and at Colonial Pizza. Both were owned by second and first-generation Italian Americans, respectively. Their food culture was precise, impressive, and intense. I learned a great deal about my work ethic from these extraordinary men, and I am grateful for the experience. I find myself constantly heaping heavy loads and huge demands on myself to produce. Most of the time, I am very pleased with the end result. Once in a while, I fall short, although no one seems to notice. That is because the destination I had in mind does not match the destination achieved. I think the reason I get a pass on that from my diners is that they still cannot get what I made elsewhere, and they don't die, so it is still like going on vacation and experiencing something different. 24 years ago, I decided that I could cook anythi...
What does my food week look like? Some weeks are triumphs. Some weeks are train wrecks. Most are somewhere in between, tangled up in the usual chaos of work, obligations, distractions, and the random curveballs life enjoys throwing at us. The fantasy is that we control our schedules. The reality is that we're often hanging onto the bumper, getting dragged wherever the road decides to go. That's why I believe in culinary contingency plans. Not glamorous plans. Not ambitious plans. Familiar plans. The dishes you can make when you're exhausted, distracted, or running on fumes. The ones you've made so many times that your hands know what to do before your brain catches up. They become muscle memory. Comfortably repetitive. Maybe even a little boring. That's fine. Boring is underrated. But getting there takes time. Back in 2002, when I was a fledgling home cook obsessed primarily with Korean food, I decided I was going to recreate the spinach and artichoke dip from an I...