I hope that's me

There's a few times where special things happen that most of would like to say at some point, " I hope that's me." At 6 years old, we see a superhero or princess on tv or in a storybook, and we say " I hope that's me" with an innocent aspiration that one day, we will fly above the earth or wave a wond and wear a crown. At 13, we see our first crush with someone else during lunchtime, and we think, " I hope that's me." From 15-17 years old, we watch movies like Fast and the Furious or Can't Hardly Wait, and say " I hope that's me" in anticipation of that car, or that guy; the new mustang, being popular, and wearing the right clothes has your head spining. As highschool comes to a close, you begin to think about your future, what you'll be, what will make your parents proud, and what will give you the life you've always dreamed about. Even though you'll think about those things, its not until voting for your prom king and queen that'll have you wishing, " I hope that's me." Before you know it, you're like Asher Roth and you love college, and road trips to Daytona and endless games of beer pong have you saying, " I hope that's me."

Then one day, all of a sudden you're stuck in an early morning class getting over last night's festivities, and the beaming sunlight through the classroom window reminds you of the days when you were little, and you splashed around having fun in an inflatable pool full of dad's hot air, and it made you think how much he loved you to fill up that pool with his breath, and that made you think " I hope that's me" one day.

At 23, you're graduated and it's the first day of your first job as what you studied to be, and you look at your boss and you plan in a few years, " I hope that's me." Now you're 25 and head over heals with enough sense about life, and they get a cold, someone's got to run and get them nyquil and soup, you say to yourself, " I hope that's me. " Now, every Valentine's Day comes around, and someone's got to get all dressed up for an unforgettable night and your heart says, " I hope that's me." Now, you go to your first wedding as an adult, and you look at the happy couple starring into eachother's eyes as they say I do, and all the moments flash in your mind, how you met, the magic that lays between the both of you, and as he lifts her vail the world stops for a second, your soul says, " I hope that's me."

A few years ago, when I went to my first Chef's Congress in New York City, I was merely 21 years old, I remember seeing all the star chefs representing their restaurants. They were proud, shining of their craft, it was something that made them stand out from the masses. I remember walking and tasting all of their dishes, and wondering, how much work and effort did they undergo to get there? I remember standing there as an outsider, as a fan, as a student, and thinking that my admiration at that point was a testament to their passion, and I stood inspired for the rest of my life. They were successful at the riskiest business in the country, and I thought that day at 21 years old, " I hope that's me."

I am so grateful for all I have seen and done in my life up to now, and excited for what's to come, but that only leaves one thing to hope for. When I am old and gray, sitting on a front porch on a swinging bench, remeniscing of all the crazy wonderful stories my life allowed me to experience, laughing to tears at some of them, holding a Pellegrino water bottle in one hand, and looking at the person who allowed me to share the most beautiful lifetime possible, the person who gave me a reason to be better, the person who gave a definition to the things we hope for. As we swing, as we'll remember everything, I'm thinking now, " I hope that's you."

Sublime Wavelength

I'll never forget the first time I didn't eat with you. Yes, I said I "didn't" eat. I think it was nachos....

Have you ever stopped to think about the sublime moments in life, the ones that seem too good to be true, 10 feet off the ground, or you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming? Being a chef, of course some of these moments revolve around food in some form. Nonetheless, to me, food cannot be completely spectacular without someone great to share it with. Something I like to call a sublime wavelength. There is something remarkable about the euphoric suspense of experiencing a new restaurant, a new dish, something foreign or strange, an exalted wine, or something noble and close to home that everyone is raving about. You know that feeling...you know what I am talking about.

I love all kinds of foods; I'm into all types of Asian cuisine, I consider myself a hotdog conisseur, and well, if it's Mexican, it's got me all over it. Like a little kid at Christmas, I anticipate a great meal, like a child anticipates Santa Clause. While this might spell out nerd for many people, for me, its quite brilliant to spend a couple of hours with someone and get one-on-one time. It's usually around a table, sharing something good, that great conversations rise. Some famous philosopher once said that you'll get to know a person's best qualities sitting around a dinner table - and well, I agree. Around a dinner table, you'll see if someone is daring, you'll see if they are conscientious, if they are well mannered, if they have a sense of humor, if they're cultured, and if you're sharing a bottle of wine, you'll see their views on anything from politics to love and everything in between.

Going to an exotic or interesting place can mean traveling without leaving your seat. I know I am not the only one that imagines themselves in Japan, while they're in a great Japanese place or in Italy when they're eating a rustic Italian dish. All jokes aside, sharing a great dining experience with someone special can be phenomenal and unforgettable. I remember one time we sat outdoors in this small but highly reccommended posh-posh restaurant, the sun was beaming off the blue sky making it warm on a winter day, we ordered Japanese oysters and a lobster po'boy. No oysters have ever been that good, but I still don't know if it was the setting, the company, or the oysters? But I sure feel lucky to ask myself that question. Another time, we were oceanfront in a cantina, eating the best chicken wings on earth, I'm at a loss for words here. And I can't forget the time, we picked up stone crabs and champange to eat at the very edge of Key Biscayne. See what I mean about a sublime wavelength? Grab someone who's on the same wavelength as you, go out there and enjoy the great restaurants your city has to offer, taste things you've never tasted before, don't be afraid to get to know your server just a little (you might learn something - atleast about the menu - if not, they'll entertain you somewhat.)

But most importantly, next time you're out somewhere, it could be at a burger joint or a 5-star place, don't forget to pay attention to who's sitting right across from you. Pay attention to their stories, their reactions to the foods, what they pick off the menu, if they smile at the server, because there is something magical about sharing a meal, trust me. In a fast paced world where our minds are on everything but what actually matters, there's one thing we can keep slow and special, Baucchus and Robert Mondavi both couldn't be wrong about the finest things in life.

A million bites later, a thousand stories ago, and hundreds of restaurants under our belts, I still remember the first time I "didn't" eat with you. I think it was nachos....and it was the beggining of foodie oddessy....a sublime wavelength.