Cooks Rule

My cooks are fucking awesome. The other night we had a huge party to do in the middle of the rush. We were slammed silly. The main guy from the party drunkenly approached the line and tipped the cooks fifty bucks each! Pretty fuckin' cool! The next day my cooks showed up to work with their eyes blood-shot and sinking into their heads. When I asked them what happened I got a three word answer:
"Titty bar dude"
Cooks rule. Talk about priorities, most of these guys have bills that are six months old or more, but if they run into a little bit of cash it's straight to the nudie bar!
Fuck I love those guys.

Songs You need to unfuck yourself and hear pt.1

I copy and pasted some of that 'embed' shit. I have no idea if it will work. More to come bitches.

Fuck PETA

Since I took a dip into political waters on my last post I thought I'd continue with some more. First of all, all you cunts who wrote me that couldn't believe a bad ass like me could support gay rights need to get over yourselves and learn to suck some cock right now. Seriously BLOW ME! Who fucking cares what people you don't even know do with their lives, get over it. On to my next point:
FUCK PETA!
That's right, fuck those fluff hugging twats! Those sick, scrawny, pale worthless douche bags can lick me where I shit! I've got some animal products for you, coming out of my ass! Fuck vegetarians, fuck vegans and fuck you! Any chef will tell you that vegetarians are the biggest nuisances on the planet except for those so-called vegetarian chefs who aren't really chefs because someone who makes salads for a living barely qualifies as a cook let alone a chef . Vegetarians force you to ruin your creations so they can eat some boring ass bland shit then bitch about it. I read a quote recently that goes: "If we had to kill it ourselves there would be a lot more vegetarians" or something like that. Bullshit! Let's apply some simple fucking logic to that stupid saying. I love beef and even if I had to kill the cow myself there would be no fucking way in hell I could eat the whole damn thing before it went bad so therefore I would have to let others eat some that didn't do any killing so fuck you! Who gives a shit what a cow thinks anyway? Beef is so damn good. I bet if these fuckers found out that orgasms killed off some useless type of microscopic amoeba they would swear them off too. Fuck that shit, what a lame pointless life. And fuck PETA for their terrorist bullshit. They intimidate restaurateurs who sell foie gras and have even gone so far as to vandalize these establishments and threaten the staff. You PETA fuckheads are no different than psycho evangelical Christians or Muslim fundamentalists. You can't grasp why the world doesn't embrace your fucking nonsense so you freak the fuck out and cause real harm to innocent people. FUCK YOU! Now, let me be clear about something. I don't give two shits about what you eat. You can eat beauty bark and dog shit sandwiches 'till the end of time for all I care. Just keep that shit to yourself. Get off your fucking high horse because your diet doesn't make you superior to anyone or anything no matter how much you want it to.

The Chef Hates You

Prop 71

Get a fucking life you fucking lame ass douche bags! Allow me to inform you of a fact that is hundreds of thousands years old: people are gay! Holy shit I know that's a lot to take in but it's a fact. Brutal I know. I just figured it out last week myself and I was horrified to learn that homosexuality is as old DNA itself. What does that mean? It means that it's always been here and always will be and if homosexuality hasn't destroyed all you hold dear yet then there is little chance that it ever will so get over your bullshit and allow your fucking neighbors to live in equality and peace along with your useless ass. And for the record, even though I'm in full support of gay rights (and the rights of all my fellow Americans) I plan to continue the use of the words 'gay' and 'fag' in my fucked up rotation of daily vernacular. You homos have my vote but don't think for a second that I'm going to alter or censor my fucked up sense of humor on account of your asses. And for another record, yes I find it offensive that basic human rights are still held to a popular vote. If they put it to a vote do you think interracial couples would be allowed to marry in Mississippi? I doubt it. Those fuckers still get to fly the confederate flag despite the fact that blacks can own property so I doubt that allowing gay couples equal rights will somehow infringe upon you and your family. And speaking of your family, your children are ugly and they smell like piss! They're fat too. Seriously, I hate your stupid fucking ugly urine soaked children. Why don't you do the world a favor and put them up for adoption so a nice gay couple can teach them the basics like soap use and the finer points of toothbrush technology. You suck. Think about it.

Fuck Servers (and you)

Yea yea yea, it's been a while, I know.
Tough shit, I'm a busy man. Here's the dealio:
I get paid to arrange for a gaggle of doped up miscreants to come together like a well oiled machine and somehow meet the demands of a ravenous horde of money packing, piss moaning douche bags who would get their fucking throats cut by the very cooks who fed them should they meet in any other social setting. I know that sounds like a walk in the park but it's not nearly as easy as it sounds.
"Dude, court was fucked up today. I might need a week or two off soon." While I'm crafting a menu for a high end six course wine dinner. Rest assured that wine dinner will take place while one of my main guys gets sent to county for something that happened between him and one of the mothers of one of his children a few years ago. Fucking great. To top it off while I'm performing miracle #487 that day the spoiled useless server will convince him/herself that I have the time and/or care to hear that they're only going to make a mere 18% off the party and fill me in on what bullshit that is. Jesus Christ on a fucking cracker I will kill the next server that speaks to me. Dead. No trial, no jury. Straight to the fucking execution.

ATTENTION ALL SERVERS:
The Chef Hates You

Restaurant Owners Pt.2

Well, the honeymoon phase of my new employment is over. I had my first major blow out with the fucking dumbass owner. I don't know what planet restaurant owners are bred on but I get the feeling there is a severe lack of oxygen in the atmosphere. These people live in fucking la-la land. Every one usually has one or two trivial things they fixate on, and this one is no different. This dumb fucking rich asshole has figured out how to get on the POS (if you don't know what a POS is, go fuck yourself) and click the button that gives labor percentages. He then proceeds to fret about the number it gives him. The labor percentage is basically what we spend on labor versus how much money we are bringing in. Simple right? Except when you ask the computer to give the percentage at the beginning of the night instead of the end it looks all fucked up. I've got 8 guys on during dinner. At 5:00 pm the restaurant hasn't done any business yet so the labor percentage looks horrible. If you checked it at 11:00 pm it would look great. The dumbass owner can't get that through his fucking head though. I cringe when I see him walk in early in the evening before the rush has started because I know he's gonna hover over the screen (the same screen the servers need to punch in orders, thanks for getting in the way asshole) and get a bunch of skewed numbers that make it look like we're losing our ass when we're not. Then I have to hear all about when I should be preparing my kitchen for service. Fucking bullshit. Since I've arrived I've shaved $2,000 a week off our inventory (that's over 100 grand a year) and yes, I've lowered the labor cost too. Yet I have to listen to this prick chew me out because of some inaccurate bullshit numbers the computer threw at him. Last night, after I finished dealing with some random crisis for the fiftieth time that day, he started in on me again. I fucking snapped and told him I'd fucking walk if he didn't back the fuck off. Naturally he didn't appreciate that to much and it only escalated from there. I probably would have been fired if the GM hadn't reminded him later that I set up a system that's going to save him over 100 grand this year (which is a fuckload more that I make) and I will be saving him more in the future. If I do end up quitting or getting fired I will be damn sure to undo all the improvements I've made so that asshole can wallow in a couple hundred grand of unnecessary expenses every year just because he's too fucking stupid to let a goddamn professional like me do his job without interference. Fuck restaurant owners.

The Chef Hates You

Sleep is for the Weak

Fuck it, I don't need sleep. Tobacco and booze are a viable substitute. I am fucking delirious. I had to cut some dead wood at work in the last week. Fuck euphemisms, let me rephrase that: I'm on a firing spree. I really, really want to be the 'cool' boss, I really do, but there comes a time when motherfuckers need to be cut loose. I had to shit can a bad ass cook today and it hurt to do it. This fucking guy busts ass. Before I can even think of giving him something to do he's already done it. Why did I fire him? Because he's a fucking flake. He had the idea that he can do a great job and that earns him the right to show up when he feels like it. "Oh man! I feel like shit, man. I can't make it tonight, cough cough." Fired. I can train a fucking monkey to cook. I can't train a monkey to be reliable. If you work in the restaurant business and want job security, show up to work on time. Every fucking time, all the fucking time. Hung over? Sweat it out over the grill. Sick? Buck up. The grill will kill those germs. I don't buy that "I'm sick" shit. Your average kitchen worker is exposed to a vast array of harmful bacteria every minute of every day. Spend a couple hours elbow deep in raw chicken every day and you will develop a top notch immune system. Real cooks don't get sick. It boils down to this: If my cooks don't show up, I have to cover it. I can't call someone in because every kitchen worker on Earth is bombed out of their skull when they're not on the clock. I can't manage a perishable inventory, maintain an acceptable food cost and write a reasonable schedule when I'm covering for people on the fucking line. Holy shit, I'm becoming a fucking tyrant. Oh well, it suits me...

The Chef Hates You

First Report From the New Gig

OK. I've been burning the candle at both ends getting my new kitchen in line. I've got a crew of about 25 scoundrels that look to me for answers and I just walked into the joint. I love my new crew though. What a pack of fucking psychopaths. I don't care if you eat at Denny's or La Bernardin, it's the same story behind the scenes. Drunken wastrels with no regard for personal safety or well being pumping out the best fucking food they possibly can. I more than have my hands full with this gig. Most of my experience is in small restaurants, supervising 6-10 people. I've got a small army on my hands in this joint, all showing up to work with the remnants of last night's libations rupturing the capillaries in their sunken, world weary eyes. We're producing some fucking outstanding shit though. Here's a little dose of reality for you fuckers. When you're eating in a high end, expensive restaurant close your eyes and picture the chef's office. I bet you think it looks something like this:



Guess what? You're full of shit. Get those fantasies out of your head. Here's what the executive chef at a five star establishment's office really looks like:



Welcome to my closet, bitches.

The Chef Hates You.

I'm Fuckin' Rich

It's a done deal. I negotiated a fucking huge salary from the board of directors at what I'll call "the hotel" so I'm jumping ship. I'm leaving the Bistro for good and am taking over as executive chef at an upscale restaurant in an upscale hotel. I will always be amazed at my good fortune in life, especially when I take my shitty attitude into account. All those douche bags that tell you you need a positive attitude to succeed in life are lying to you. I'm living proof. I think 99% of all people are jerk offs and I'm fucking rich now. You know what you need to be successful? First of all you need to be really fucking good at what you do. Work hard to be the best. It doesn't matter what you do, cooking, waiting tables, or shoveling shit, if you are the best at it you will go places. Second, don't take shit from anybody. Crush your enemies like the fucking worms that they are. I can't stand all those "positive attitude" and "self esteem" and "love your fellow man" stupid fucking hippies. All that shit is utter nonsense. While you're sitting around working on your positive fucking attitude I'm doubling my income in the middle of a fucking recession. How do you like that fuckers? I didn't exude happiness or kiss ass at any of the interviews I had to do to get this job. I politely explained that I am the greatest fucking chef in this stupid fucking city (even though I'm not) and they would be utter fools to pass on me. That's all there is to it. If you want to succeed all you need to do is kick ass, attitude has nothing to do with it. Leave the helpful hippies to what they do best, NOTHING.

The Chef Hates You

Stay Tuned

I understand that all of you have been chomping at the bit for some new ramblings from your favorite anti-socialite gastronamagician. Hold on a little while longer. I'm in the process of changing jobs and that has my time occupied in the 24/7 variety. My potential new job pays about twice as much and should afford me many opportunities to get raging fucking pissed so don't worry, it's gonna get good around here.
I'm in the salary negotiation phase for a juicy executive chef position at a major hotel here in town, so if all goes according to plan I'll have some good rants regarding the office end of things which I've been able to avoid so far in my career. I'm not leaving the line though, don't worry. I can't call myself a chef and sleep at night unless I flip a few pans every shift so the in-your-face straight-from-the-trenches curmudgeonry that this site is not-so-famous for will not diminish I assure you.
Hang tight fuckers. I'll be with you soon...

A travel guide for all you American PUSSIES!

I just got back from two weeks in Mexico. You heard me MEXICO! I'm still alive and I don't even have that stupid fucking "Swine Flu" all you spineless twats are all freaked out about. Somebody got the sniffles from Mexico? Boo-fucking-hoo. It's the fucking flu you fucking pansies. Drink some OJ, get some bed rest and get the fuck over it already. Why do all my fellow Americans insist on panicking at the slightest fucking things? I travel a lot and I get a kick out of all the so-called "advice" I get from paranoid douchebags that are too terrified to leave their hotels when they leave home. I spent most of my time in the towns of Tulum and Punta Allen which are far from the safe tourist mecca of Cancun and wouldn't you know it? I survived! Here's my list of do's and don'ts to survive in Mexico:

I DID drink the water.
I DID NOT get sick from it.
I DID get mosquito bites.
I DID NOT get malaria or dengue fever or any other goddamn thing.
I DID eat at back road taco stands.
I DID NOT get food poisoning or even the shits for that matter.
I DID snorkel in the clear blue Caribbean and saw several barracudas.
I DID NOT get bitten. Those pussies where scared as hell of me.
I DID walk the streets after dark, drunk.
I DID NOT get mugged or even feel the slightest bit unsafe.
I DID see policemen walking around carrying submachine guns.
I DID NOT get shaken down for bribes. Actually they were way more friendly than American cops. I would smile and wave and the would smile and wave back.
I DID get to live out my NASCAR fantasies while driving on their highways.
I DID NOT enjoy the realization that American drivers are not only inconsiderate pricks but they have no understanding of how their actions affect the flow of traffic around them. For instance, an American driver will cut you off even there's no one behind you for a mile then drive 10 miles under the speed limit. That shit doesn't fly down there.
I DID use an ATM after dark.
I DID NOT get robbed.
I DID climb a Mayan pyramid and sit on an alter that human sacrifices were performed on.
I DID NOT jerk off on it while singing 'Slayer' lyrics on the top of my lungs even though I really wanted to.
I DID manage to get by on my half-assed grasp on Spanish.
I DID NOT enjoy it when other Americans would come around and act all annoyed when the people they where talking to didn't speak English. Fuck those assholes. You're in their country you spoiled rich cunts! If you can't at least learn a little of their language you are a piece of shit ingrate. These are the same yuppie fucks that would freak out if they encountered someone who doesn't speak English here at home. Oh and while I'm at it, fuck all you racist fucking assholes who get upset when you see signs printed in Spanish here in America. A lot of the street and store signs in Mexico have English versions as well so fuck you. It's called courtesy you shortsighted evil redneck fucks.
I DID enjoy the amazing food, peaceful tranquility, and glorious natural vistas of the Yucatan.
I DID NOT see, hear, or experience in any way the "drug war" that is supposedly ravaging the country. Mexico is a big country and that shit you hear about is confined to a very small part of it. Refusing to go anywhere in Mexico because of that bullshit you hear on the news is like refusing to go to Daytona Beach because there's gang violence in Detroit. Think about it you pack of fucking panicked sheep! You turn on your TV and when it says "jump!" you say "how high?" Form your own fucking opinions and quit living in fear already.

In conclusion, Mexico fucking rules. Grow some balls and get your pansy asses down there. My only complaint is that they use that barbaric fucking metric system. Fuck kilometers and all that shit. 30 degrees is cold not hot you Celsius sucking fucks.

The Chef Hates You.

Later Bitches

I'm going fishing in Mexico for a couple weeks. No posts for you!

Teabagging Goes Mainstream!

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Thank you Rachel and Ana! There's nothing like right wing wackoloons to brighten up my day. I've always been a fan of teabagging and teabagging humor. This is not a political blog so don't write to me about this shit. It's just that teabagging is a concept that is very close to my heart so I thought I'd share this with you! And for the record, Glen Beck had better not show up to one of my sexy teabag parties.

French vs Italian, The Epic Showdown

There's another question I get that I feel deserves a real answer and not a smart ass one like in my earlier post. Do I prefer French or Italian cuisine? That's a tough one. To me it's kind of like the Beatles vs Stones argument. There's no right or wrong answer, can't I like both? If I had to answer I'd give the slight edge to Italian though. I was originally trained in classic French but I jumped the fence into Italian a few years ago. To me it's more soulful. French cooking has very strict rules, If you substitute an ingredient or veer off an established technique everyone will jump in your shit and say it's not a "true" (insert French dish here) no matter how good it is. The Italians are more concerned with making shit taste good than following pre-written, unbreakable rules. Also there is an emphasis on simplicity with Italian cuisine that I like. Taking simple and usually few ingredients and bringing them to their utmost potential. This idea is evident in their ingredients. Take garlic for example. From raw to roasted there is a galaxy of flavors that can be coaxed out of one simple ingredient. It's no wonder why the Italians embraced the tomato when it was brought to Europe while the rest of the continent took at least a hundred years to get hip to it. Raw, sauteed, roasted, dried, cooked down into a sauce, there's no end to the things you can do with that one ingredient. Thank kind of thinking appeals to me. Christ, look at pasta! It all comes from the same dough but I don't think anyone can name every type of pasta there is and it's applications are near limitless. If you amassed a huge pile of exotic ingredients I would be very interested in what the French chef would do with them, but if you took a tomato, a carrot, and a potato and nothing else the Italian chef would stomp his ass. He would probably have fifty dishes or more that rock balls before he ran out of ideas.
Even Italian chefs will privately admit that all western cuisines owe at least a small debt to the French however. They wrote the books and set the standards that all others adhere to, at least some degree. Take mirepoix for example. The French invented it and everyone uses it including the Italians. The same goes for roux. The French's relentless pursuit of perfection of technique is something that everyone interested in food should admire. I also believe in the French notion that if you cram enough butter into something it'll taste good eventually. If the Italians were willing to accept butter as olive oil's equal than there would be no contest in my opinion. It would be Italy all the way. Olive oil is phenomenal but so is butter damn it! Mounting sauces with butter is probably the thing I miss the most since I switched to Italian cooking. Italian chefs use butter but they don't have a love affair with it like the French do.
Both Cuisines are great but it's Italian for me. The fact that I can take semolina, eggs, and water and combine them into a dough with possibilities that I would have to live to be a thousand to exhaust is the clincher for me. Also the fact that I went to Paris years ago and I thought it sucked. The whole city smells like fucking feces and it was the only place in the world (pre 9/11) that I got into fistfights just for being American. The French may be able to cook but they can't take a headbutt worth a fuck let me tell you! They'll talk shit and get in your face and shove you but a forehead to the nose sends those cunts running like little girls! That shit happened to me three times when I was in Paris. OK I'm rambling now, end of post.
The chef hates you.

The Voodoo Organist

I just got home from another stellar performance from the one and only Voodoo Organist! If you've never seen or heard him I pity/hate you. The man plays a theremin with his head, IN TUNE!!! All the while playing some trick-ass bass lines with his feet on Moog bass pedals and keeping both hands busy ripping out some fat ass Hammond organ jazz riffs. Fucking bad ass. All of his songs are about whiskey and Satan too! Screamin' Jay Hawkins meets Sun Ra distilled into a skinny, white alcoholic. Rollicking good times. Bad hangover at work tomorrow...

Q&A With Your Favorite Angry Chef

I get a lot of questions, both e-mails and from the people that know me. I'm pretty sure these are questions that all chefs get and we usually give some bullshit answer that maintains the illusions you people have that keep us in business. Enough of that shit, it's honesty time...

"What is your favorite thing to cook?"
Whatever costs me the least and allows me to charge you the most, that's what. Seriously, I don't give a shit. It's all the same to me. If people were willing to pay for dogshit and toenail flambe that would probably be my favorite.

"What is your favorite thing to eat?"
Ass! How do you like that? I already know what kind of answer people are looking for when they ask that, they're expecting me to tell them about some lovely, high end dish that they can order next time to make themselves feel important. Honestly, chefs and cooks have pretty mundane eating habits. Usually I'll grab a good looking saute pan out of the bus tub and wipe it clean with a piece of bread. That's dinner for me. You would be amazed to see the home kitchens of most professional cooks. Top Ramen and Mac and Cheese is about all you'll find usually. If you can find the kitchen at all under the pile of empty to-go boxes, porn, and rusty razor blades. Since I moved in with my girlfriend a couple years ago I've managed to build up a pretty respectable home kitchen, but I'd guess about 75% of the pros don't cook much outside of work. We order pizza just as much as the next guy.

"Is cooking fun?"
Professional cooking is about as fun as a razor wire and Tabasco colonoscopy. It's fucking hard work people. We're not back there prancing around having the time of our lives, we're busting ass. I honestly love it, but it ain't fun.

"If you could open any type of restaurant, what would it be?"
A titty bar that serves hot dogs and slingshots. That would be fun as hell! I'd need a pretty good fucking lawyer to pull that one off I think. In reality I don't have a preference. What I would open depends on the location. I've been in the business for a very long time, I don't fantasize about shit like that.

"which do you prefer, Hell's Kitchen or Top Chef?"
The chef hates you.

Fuck You and Your Needs

There's nothing like a perfectly timed special order to inspire me and spur my imagination. Just tonight I realized that a good pair of tongs would make an excellent branding iron when held atop the flames for a while then applied to some dumb fucker's forehead. Hey, I can dream can't I? Most people who special order are deluded cunts* who have convinced themselves that they're special and cannot be expected to order and eat the same slop as the rest of the herd. Fuck them. There's a whole other breed of special orderer however. Beside the fact that orderer isn't a word I'm forced to accommodate people with dietary needs, allergies, and religious concerns. Let's start with the concerned dieters. I'm a fucking chef not a dietitian, I have no fucking clue how many calories are in the dish, sorry. Ditto for fat grams or those ungodly "carbs". If you are on a diet you have no business whatsoever eating in an Italian restaurant. (Oh shit, I guess the cat's outta the bag, I cook Italian food.) Fuck you and your diet. I'm so glad that Atkins shit has died off. When that stupid shit was in style my life was an even bigger hell than usual. You wanna talk about special requests? Holy fucking shit! When the brainless zombies known as the dining public got all fired up on that stupid fucking Atkins diet fad I was inundated with requests like Pizza with no crust and Sandwiches with no bread! Insanity. If you're counting calories then stay the fuck at home, that shit is not my job. When it comes to people with food allergies I honestly feel sorry for them. I love food in all it's forms and I can't imagine having to avoid certain foods because I might get sick. What pisses me off is the ones who wear their allergies like a badge of honor or something. Go eat at a fucking hospital cafeteria and leave me the fuck out of it. I already have to eat those shitty pretzels on the plane on account of you allergy fuckers so please don't fuck with me any more. Some people lie about it. I had a customer tell me he was allergic to salt! What the fuck is that shit? If you were allergic to salt you wouldn't have survived conception you lying fuck! If you don't want me to add salt to your food that's fine but please don't assume I'm fucking stupid and hit me with a bullshit lie like that. When It comes to the religious fuckers I honestly get a kick out of 'em. I'm a red blooded atheist myself and the fact that people are willing to pass up on things like pork, lobster, and blow jobs just because their imaginary friend threatened them is funny and baffling to me. I have a mischievous streak in me, believe it or not, and when some holy motherfucker says I have to leave out an ingredient because it's against their religion I get excited! Do you really want to give someone like me the power to send you to hell? That's an opportunity I can't resist! I absolutely love the notion that you could wake up in the afterlife, condemned to eternal damnation, even after following all the rules your whole life just because some asshole like me plopped a hambone into your sauce while it was cooking. There's gotta be at least a hundred religious retards out there who will rot for all eternity thanks to me and my deft use of bacon. If your god tells you you can't eat shellfish and pork then your god must not like you very much. I say ditch His bullshit and let the pros like me rock your world with some mind blowing, tasty shit! It's real simple fuckers! When you enter a restaurant, look at the menu. If you can't or won't eat what's on it then DON'T EAT THERE.
The Chef Hates You.

*My girlfriend just chewed me out for not using the word 'cunt' once in the history of this blog, so there you go.

The New 'Waiting' Sucks

The highly anticipated sequel to the smash hit "Waiting" is a steaming pile of shit. What a fucking let down. The original is pure genius but "Still Waiting..." blows dog. It seems like they just threw it together one afternoon. Not funny and no insights into restaurant life. It's just a lame, direct to dvd comedy that happens to take place in a restaurant. The cooks in the movie are douchebag pussies and the servers are hollow jerkoffs who recite their "clever" lines like they just want to hurry up, get off set, and head the fuck home. The original did so well they rushed some piece of shit to market to capitalize on it. What a rip off. I'm glad I only rented it. I will admit the Adam Carolla cameo was pretty funny but it wasn't worth the price of the rental. I'm so pissed off I'm mad at the first movie now. They both take place in a stupid "family" restaurant that I wouldn't work in for a million dollars. I can't watch it without getting irritated now. Thanks you greedy assholes.
The chef hates you.

Everyone Sucks

Fuck 'em all! Jesus titty fucking Christ! I haven't posted in a while because things were going sort of OK. I actually haven't been raging pissed for a couple weeks. Until tonight. Holy jumping sheep shit tonight sucked gangrenous donkey balls. Oh where to begin? First of all, we have this regular that comes in every day. He's kinda crazy and he orders the most disgusting special requests you can imagine. I always let it slide because he was drafted and sent to 'Nam when he was a teenager. I figure that's as good excuse as any to be crazy. Tonight he topped himself though. He ordered a caprese topped with hot meatballs with honey drizzled on top with a side of Caesar dressing. Fucking sick! Then I get word that he wants to see me. When I got to the bar he informed me that it tasted bad. No fucking shit! I would rather catch syphilis from licking the ass of a Venezuelan albino transsexual midget amputee that hasn't bathed since the Nixon administration than eat that sick shit! You asked for it like that you asshole, don't cry to me because it tastes bad! It was downhill from there. I had a perfectly cooked pasta dish get sent back. Nothing pisses off a cook like having perfectly cooked food returned. When I asked what was wrong I was informed the the crab in the dish was "tight and spicy"! What the fuck does that mean? Tight and Spicy? Of course the server couldn't explain it. "That's what she said." So fucking what? I need to know what that means! People who go out to eat on Sundays are douchebags through and though. It's usually a bunch of uptight christian assholes, fresh from church, who look down on us heathens for daring to work on the sabbath. Assholes. When the rush was well over with and I had a drink in me to help me face the daunting task of cleaning up my disaster of a kitchen, the unspeakable happened. There is a small university near the restaurant. I think you are required to be a spoiled rich, wannabe hippy fuckwad to meet the criteria for enrollment in that fucking place. We get a lot of those jerkoffs who come in to spend mommy and daddy's money. Well, two of the fuckers decided to come in TEN MINUTES BEFORE CLOSING!!!! Fucking Bullshit! And you'll never guess what. The fuckers ordered steak. I had shut the grill off about 20 minutes before they showed up and the thing was stone cold. I pulled the grill off and set it on the burners to warm it up, which was hard to do while shaking with anger, then I marked the steaks and fucking nuked 'em! Yup, you heard me. 20 year veteran in the business and I served microwaved steaks! If you think that's unprofessional consider this: People who enter a restaurant to eat, let alone eat steak, 10 minutes before closing are my sworn enemies and are lucky I'm as professional as I am. If I wasn't, I would have jerked the fuck off all over those microwaved steaks and it wouldn't be anything less than those fuckers deserved! What really sucks is I had to wait for those assholes to leave before I could lock up and go home. I posted up at the bar and did some damage to the boss's pour cost waiting for those twats to finish up and get the fuck out. On their way out they actually told me the steaks were great. Fucking tools. You douchbag rich kids wouldn't know a good steak if it leaped off the plate and sucked your junk. I do take some small consolation knowing those fuckers ate rubbery, atomic beef and actually liked it. Fuckheads.
The Chef Hates You

My Kind Of Field Trip

This should tide you over. I'll write something new when I feel like it. Fuck y'all.

Restaurant owners are batshit crazy.

Seriously fucking nuts they are. All of them. You would have to be a fucking loon to want to open a restaurant in the first place. I think it's the least profitable type of business on earth. I've worked for a lot of people over the years and every last one of them is a certified wacko. I don't think there's a restaurant on earth that is owned by someone with sufficient knowledge and experience to warrant their position. Probably because no one with knowledge and experience in the business would be crazy enough to open one. I sure as shit never would. I know how restaurants work, I'm not about to tie up my money in that shit. Most owners are stupid rich twats who thought it would be 'neat' to have their own restaurant and have no clue what they got themselves into. Working for that type is a nightmare. They live in a perpetual fantasy land. They have no grasp on the ugly realities of restaurant life. Emergency Sunday night refrigeration repairs, a horny, drug addled staff or the nonstop onslaught from roaches and rats don't fit into their quaint delusions and they just can't hack it. Just because you eat out a lot and know what you like doesn't mean you have what it takes to run the place, got it? I see a lot of movies, that doesn't qualify me to produce one now does it? Then you've got the even richer twats that open one up just have a personal restaurant. They'll walk in and tell a server to hook them up with a latte or demand the kitchen cook them something extravagant in the middle of the fucking dinner rush. Guess what douchebag? While we're busy making your dinner and that poor server is making your fucking latte (fuck lattes. Do a shot of espresso if you want Italian coffee. Lattes are bullshit.) we are not taking care of your customers you spoiled rich worthless asshole! Yet you fucking fume when the place isn't making you a mint. Get real you fuck. You're running a business, it's not your personal playpen. Occasionally you'll get someone who does a good job. They don't stick their noses into affairs they don't understand and keep the place in a decent state of repair. The place runs smoothly and the owner is raking it in. They are still restaurant owners though and it's in their nature to fuck the whole thing up. They don't understand that their restaurant's success is probably due to the things they're not doing, not the things they are doing. Greed takes over. They're convinced that they are geniuses and try to start an empire. I worked for a guy that had a packed house every night. Convinced of his business savvy he opened four more identical restaurants in one month. They tanked. In an attempt to keep them afloat he took all the money and decor from the original place that was doing good and spread it around all his other places. The cost cutting the original store had to do caused business to drop off in a big way. He's bankrupt now when he should be sitting high on the hog. He had to sell everything for pennies on the dollar of what he spent. Dumbass. Finally, the absolute worst thing an owner can do is get friendly with customers. I can understand the idea but in reality it creates a horrible situation. When the owner walks through the dining room introducing him or herself to the customers in an attempt to make them feel welcome he's creating monsters without realizing it. Most of those asshole yuppie customers get the idea that they are now friends with the owner and deserve preferential treatment. On their next visit they will go off on a "I know the owner" rant when we dare to charge them for their appetizer or something. Fucking ridiculous. Then some frazzled server runs to me to come out and talk down the asshole. I fucking hate talking to customers. Luckily I'm 6'2" and 235lbs with a permanent scowl on my face that's been there since I was two. Most people aren't to inclined to fuck with me. But I hate having to leave what I'm doing just to go explain to some asshole that they don't get a bunch of free shit because the owner said hi to them once. The best thing an owner can do is hire competent management, don't make us beg for money to make necessary repairs, and stay the fuck out of the way. If you do that your restaurant will be a smashing success. If not, your fucked and the chef hates you.

I'm Back

I'm back from Daytona. What a fucking great place. It's a beautiful Florida beach town but it's not yuppified in the slightest. A bunch of bikers and gear heads hanging out and getting loaded with a gorgeous beach chock full of hot broads with bathing suits that contain less fabric than you'd find in the top of a fucking aspirin bottle. February in the sun! What a fucking trip. The Daytona 500 was a blast. I've never followed auto racing before but that shit was fun as hell. The race got called off early because of rain (the only day it rained while I was there) but I wasn't complaining. You can drink and smoke in the stands which was nice. Shit you can smoke anywhere in that town! The fact that sitting in a bar and enjoying a beer and a cigarette at the same time seems like a privilege to me is a sad sad thing. Land of the free my ass. Uptight P.C. bullshit cold ass Washington State can blow me! Oh well, I've been back for about 6 hours and I'm already pissed off again. Stay tuned.

An Explanation

I will never apologize for anything I write here. Let's get that straight. I did receive an e-mail this morning that made me want to clarify something, however. In the 'Oooh La La' post I mentioned knowing a "rogue fish poacher". Let me explain. The restaurant business is fiercely competitive. In order to have an edge, a chef has to to business with some shady people. People who can hook me up with stuff the other restaurants don't have. When copper river salmon season comes around, everyone in this area is dying to empty their wallets to eat some. If I can get it a week before anyone else, I will. I do not condone fish poaching in any way though. The state of Alaska has that river under intense scrutiny so I know the fish was caught legally. How they can get it to me so soon is something I don't ask. I am a fisherman and fish poachers piss me off. Anyone who fishes in closed waters, without a license, with illegal gear, or exceeds their limit is an evil fuck who should be tarred, feathered, and castrated. Here in Wahington there is a delicate balance between commercial fishing (a huge part of this state's economy), tribal fishing rights (western WA is home to some of the most organized and wealthy indian tribes in the country and they are adamant about their fishing rights), and recreational angling. Cheating fucks the whole thing up. We haven't been allowed to harvest abalone for a few years now thanks to those dickhead poachers. So to answer your question, no I don't buy poached fish. That guy I mentioned probably could hook me up with some but I wouldn't do that. Don't ever doubt me again!

Tips for the home cook.

I get a lot of e-mails asking for cooking tips for some strange reason. First of all, professional cooking and home cooking are two very different worlds. I know cooks that are gods among men when it comes to busting ass on the line, but once you get them home they can't operate their own ovens to save their lives. I get annoyed when I'm going to eat at a friend's house and they get all self-conscious because a chef is coming over. I love home cooked food and I'm not so much of an asshole to critique your food when I'm a guest in your home. Anyway, in the last few years I've crossed into the territory of home cooking and I have a few tips for you.

1. Unless you get off on torturing slugs, throw that box of morton salt in the trash. Go and buy some good salt. Sea salt or kosher salt is the way to go. It's really not expensive and you will notice the difference in your food.
2. Buy whole pepper and get yourself a pepper grinder. Preground pepper tastes like hay. Proper seasoning is crucial to good food. It's really more important than most think. That's why I listed these two first. Proper seasoning can make the difference between a slam dunk and fucking pig slop.
3. Use fresh herbs. Go through your cupboard and throw away all your dried herbs except oregano, bay leaves, tarragon, and dill. Fresh is always the way to go but those herbs actually retain some flavor after drying, all others are crap. If you have dried basil or parsley and would consider putting them in your food, send me your address so I can come by and beat some sense into you. Put that shit into dime bags and sell it to some junior high kids or put it in the trash. It's not food, don't use it. Dried rosemary has flavor but it's hard as a rock and feels like petrified pine needles in your mouth. I recommend growing your own. If you have a spot in your yard that gets a little sun, throw in a rosemary bush. A start costs like five bucks and you'll have a lifetime supply. If you have a yard, you are doing yourself a major disservice by not growing rosemary. Just plant it and forget it. It'll do the rest.
4. Seek out cool food stores. Chances are there's some specialty stores in your area. Check them out. I found a cool little Mexican market near here that has some great stuff you can't get at the big chain supermarkets. Asian markets rule as well. The one near me has an amazing array of fresh locally grown produce for way cheaper than the grocery store. Asian markets are where you'll find the best seafood too. Better shit for cheaper, sounds good to me. Hit up any farmer's markets in your area too. Local is better. Support your local farmers and get the really good stuff.
5. Buy small vegetables. Resist the good ol' American mentality that says "if a little is good, then a lot must be better!" Carrots the size of your arm or tomatoes the size of a grapefruit don't taste good. Smaller, younger vegetables are more tender and much more flavorful.

That's all I got for now. I have to head into work and get stomped on now. Good luck.

You're not funny, don't try

If you work in a restaurant, or frequent one that has an open kitchen and you happen to see a cook pounding out pieces of meat with a mallet, do the world a favor. Do not make a "beating your meat" joke. That shit wasn't funny the first time I heard it 20 fucking years ago and it ain't funny now. "Hey! Looks like you're beating your meat!" Hardy Fucking Har! I'll beat your fucking kneecaps with this thing, asshole! When someone gets stuck with the tedious duty of pounding out 20 or 30 pounds of meat they will be in no mood to hear your lame-ass attempts at humor so don't do it. Not that cooks have a problem with masturbation humor or anything, it's just the simple fact that that joke sucks and we've all heard it at least 8,000 times. Stick to what you do best, shutting the fuck up.
The chef hates you.

Payback Biatch!!!

You'll never guess what! The other day I was sitting around as usual, boiling with hatred for all the yuppies that can afford to eat in my restaurant, and dreaming of strangling that guy that sat there for a split second to long when the light turned green when lo and behold! My girlfriend won a trip for two to the Daytona 500!! I'm not even fucking joking! Nation wide fucking sweepstakes and my woman won it!! Karma's a bitch isn't it? I spend my free time cursing my fellow man on the internet and the universe saw it's way fit to kick me down a free trip to Daytona Beach fucking Florida! Fuck yea! Being me rules sometimes. Fuck the recession! I'm going to the fucking beach! Flight, hotel, and tickets to the fucking Great American Race! Oh! And EIGHT free beer tickets!! I've got a hard on the size of Texas right now! I'm an old pro but even I can catch a healthy buzz off eight beers! The next time one of you heartless yuppie bastards goes out to eat and decides that your tab includes the right to be an absolute prick to the staff remember, not only will your bullshit be immortalized in print for all the world to see, but you are scoring karmic points for people like me who unrepentantly hate your guts! I love it! Thanks to you I get to be a dick and win free shit!
Don't worry, yuppies. Just because I'm going to Daytona Beach for free doesn't mean I don't hate you!

The Important Links Section and Why You Should Click on Them

Scroll down the page past that cool-ass picture of cupid lying dead from a shot from my bow that symbolizes the death of all your bullshit yuppie fantasies about chefs and all other service industry types that you're convinced exist to serve you and love it and don't harbor any hatreds towards your vapid fucking asses. There you will find the 'important links' section. Hang on a second, let me recover from that bad ass run on sentence I just composed. Whew, ok I'm back. Anyway, you need to click on, and learn from, all of those links.

1) The Brownie Troop Fishing Show.
I put this one at the top because I was raised in the pacific northwest and fishing is like a fucking religion to me. This site, I think, is a great approximation of what fishing is all about. Rollicking good times as well as stately reverence. The guy in charge is the guitarist of the band Ween. If you've never heard 'em, quit fucking around and buy their shit. Deaner plays a mean strat and can land monstrous aquatic beats by the truckload. I also hear he's no slouch in the kitchen. Those activities will only raise a man in my estimation. Check it out.

2) The movie Waiting.
A brilliant film. The man who made it obviously spent time in the business. Granted, it centers around the front of the house, but the cooks are well represented. Honestly, life in the kitchen would make a boring movie because a cook's daily routine is horribly repetitive so I'm willing to let a movie about servers be the definitive restaurant movie for now. The reality of restaurant life is exaggerated for comic effect, but it does a good job of reflecting 'The Life'. Buy it, rent it, steal it, fuck it, whatever. Just see the fucking thing.


3) The Bible.
You heard me. Kitchen Confidential. The king hell fuck epic of professional cooking. All bow to THE Bourdain. This fucking guy was a REAL chef. Then he struck it big and now he gets paid to travel the world, eat great food, and bang hot tang. Read it now. I'll wait. Learn the truth fuckers! Seriously, Bourdain rules and this is a must read.


4)The Alphabet Of Manliness.
A brilliant book. The A-Z of all thing male. Featuring important topics like boners, violence, urinal etiquette, and beef jerky. A must read for Y-chromosome enthusiasts everywhere. It was written by a man named Maddox. He also has a website that is a fucking riot. Check it.


5)Mozilla Firefox
If you are looking at this page with internet explorer I probably have your social security number by now with all the spyware I intentionally distribute via my site. Seriously, ditch that shit. Firefox is secure, very easy to use, and free! There is a cool tab system at the top that keeps all the pages you have open well organized without clogging up your taskbar. You can have all your favorite sites (mine included) laid out in a row at the top of the page for one click browsing. Internet explorer sucks, don't use it.


I'll update this as I add more. I know the reason you come to this site is to become enlightened so why don't you expedite the process and click the links already?

The chef won't hate you as much if you do.

Cooks and Servers. A Fragile Peace. PT.2

I just realized I started my last post talking about the fact that I respect my waitstaff, then went on a hateful rant about them. Oh well. This blog isn't about things I like now is it? Here is the numero uno, single most heinous act of bullshitery a server can pull. This thing makes me want to super glue them to a chair, pump them full of antibiotics, and pick their faces off with a pair of rusty tweezers. I figure it'll take 'em a month or two to die. A fitting end to a fucking bastard who would dare to LET THEIR PERSONAL TASTES INTERFERE WITH MY MENU!!!!! Fuck you! I've had to deal with this way more times than karma should dictate. And I've done some fucked up shit in my time, let me tell you. It's a simple thing. The server doesn't like, say calamari. So when one of their customers asks about the calamari the server actually tells them it isn't any good. YOU DIE NOW! I don't give a shit what you like. How fucking dare you tell a customer that ANYTHING on the menu isn't good! Just because you don't like something doesn't mean someone else won't. I don't care if a certain item tastes like filleted pig shit to you, don't you EVER suggest that something on the menu isn't good. I am human, believe it or not. I am prone to mistakes as much as anyone else. If there are consistent complaints about a certain menu item, I need to know. I'll fix it if that's the case. But really, if you knew shit about food you'd be writing the menus and not hustling them, so don't overstep your bounds.
Now, beside all that shit, I do really like servers and respect what they do. Some of my old friends for life have done time in the front of the house. It's a tough job and I know it. When they are subjected to abuse that they don't deserve at the hands of those rotten fucking customers, I'm fucking pissed and I'm on their side. All you yuppie bastards that feel the need to pay to pick on someone, fuck with the bussers not the servers. Bussers are straight up bitches through and through to the fucking core. I don't respect bussers and neither should you. I know they are valuable to servers but I can't stand the little fuckers. Some brainless 16 year old looking for a summer job should grow a pair and apply for the dish pit. I treat my dishwashers like royalty. Dishwashers are the shit. Good ones that is. They are the lifeblood of the professional kitchen, they sweat their nuts and/or ovaries off making sure the whole damn resaurant is squared away and I make damn sure they are well fed and kept happy. Bussers on the other hand where born to be shit on. Fill water glasses? Oh my! Drop off bread baskets? Whoopie! Clear off tables? Oh the humanity! Fuck those little turds. I hate it when a busser has been around a while and joins his server bretheren in their nonstop whining for free food. Can you say 'blow me'? Just like anywhere else in life, people who kiss ass make more money than people who work hard. Severs make more money than cooks, that's why you're charged for your meals. If you little busser bitches don't like that, grow some balls, put on some whites and some checks, and do some real work and I'll see about feeding your little ass. Until then, you can tongue my dung shutter! Bussers are expendable as fuck. Fuck 'em. Next time you asshole yuppies are out to eat, take your pent up frustrations out on the bussers, not the professionals that can hook you up. Think about it.
The Chef Hates You

New E-mail

You rotten bastards can now reach me at "thechefhatesyou@gmail.com"


That crappy hotmail account of mine turned into a fucking spamfest. I think I can manage the new one a little better. I may even respond one of these days! All you spammers can lick me where I shit by the way.

Cooks and Servers. A Fragile Peace. PT.1

This is the one area where I might differ from some of my fellow chefs and cooks. I actually respect my waitstaff. I've been in the business for a long time and I realize how much easier my life is working with a competent waitstaff that I get along with. I also realize that I wouldn't last five minutes doing their job before I fucking choked someone. This hasn't always been the case though. A young cook will make the mistake of blaming the server for a sin committed by a customer and lash out at them. I always enjoyed that back in the day. I've met a few servers that came close, but no one (and I mean NO ONE!) can step to me when it comes to a hurling a hateful shit storm in someone's face and I'll always win whether I'm right or wrong. There's been some close games but in the long haul cooks are in the lead when it comes to fucking with the other side of the house. Servers tend to be smarter (book smart, that is) than cooks but they know cooks are psychos and will reach for a knife at a last resort. That's why servers will back the fuck off in a fight even if they have right on their side. I've worked at a few places where there was a daily all out war between the front and back of the house. I enjoyed it back then because I always knew that once I brought up my desire to buttfuck their grandmothers with a tire iron (or something equally foul) they would cower and run. Now that I've ascended to chefdom I don't like to play like that. I'm to old for the war. A competent waitstaff that is on my side is a blessing, I've come to realize. Sell the things I need them to sell. Stagger their tickets, and don't cop a fucking attitude with me and the night breezes by.
There are still things that servers do that piss me off and they are as follows:
1. Hoarding tickets. When you take an order, TURN THE FUCKING THING IN!! Don't hang on to it. Don't stop and chat with a table. Don't run and grab drinks first. And don't even dream of taking another order before you turn it in. I see red when a server turns in multiple tables at once. If you order it all at once, it's all coming up at once. We all know you can't run four tables of food at the same time so don't fucking order it like that. Which leads to the next point.
2. Pick up your fucking food while it's hot! Nothing irritates a cook like seeing a beautiful plate of food he made turn to shit under the lights. If you don't have time to pick it up then don't bother turning the fucking order in. I don't give a flying fuck how busy you are. Hot food is priority one. I laugh inside (and scream outside) when a server complains that they're busy. "I have seven tables!" Tough shit crybaby. I have EVERY table.
3. Unnecessary modifications. Ok so you're busy right? Then how the fuck did you find the time to add "no onions" to the caesar salad you just ordered? There are no onions on the caesar and there never will be. I don't give a shit if the customer asked for no onions. You should know the fucking thing has no onions. Making stupid, unnecessary requests like that gives me the impression that you have no fucking clue about the food you are serving and should be fired and/or beaten. I fucking hate it when servers pull that shit. I've had servers put in orders asking me to leave off items we don't even carry. Bring a menu home and read the fucking thing. Stop wasting everyone's time. Which, again, leads to my next point.
4. Filter the bullshit! When a server puts in an order, it should be clear and concise. I don't have time to read a fucking novel on the ticket. Don't bother to tell me the customer is in a hurry. I don't give the slightest shit if a customer is in a hurry. I'm not about to alter my program just because some stupid fuck doesn't know how to manage their time. Another thing I ignore is "light sauce, dressing, garlic etc." In eighteen years of cooking I've never altered a recipe for that stupid request and I've never received a complaint. Don't waste your and my time by even asking. Leave stupid requests and questions in the dining room. Don't bring them to my kitchen.
5. Get to the point! If you need to talk to me during service, make it quick. Don't fill me in on all the details of your table. I don't have time to care if it's a birthday, anniversary, if they're nice or not, or what-the fuck-ever. Just tell me what you need and tell me fast. If you fucked up and forgot something that should have been on the ticket, buck up, admit it, tell me what you need, accept your verbal lashing and get your ass back to your tables.
6. Encouraging special orders. My disdain for special orders is well documented. Servers who push that shit on their tables are near the top of my list of people to kill should I come down with a terminal illness or something. The fact is, your customers will be just as happy (and tip just as much) with a straight up menu selection than whatever bullshit you sold them so don't do it. The only thing that pisses me off more than that is the server's lame attempts to get away with it. If you are the only server whose tables make the same special request all night I'm not gonna buy it when you tell me "they asked for it like that." Don't insult me you fuck!

OK I've been typing for way too long. I'm a high school dropout for fuck's sake, this shit takes me a while! It's time for me to wash the garlic out of my pores and hit the fucking bottle. I'm not even done here though. I'll chime in with a part two in a few days.
The Chef Hates You

Fuck winter.

I'm sick of this shit. The basil sucks balls this time of year. Top dollar for wilted brown shit. The seafood sucks and the customers are bitchier than usual. That and I just got a bad ass new fishing pole for my birthday. I get to do nothing but look at it for a couple months. Fucking torture. Western Washington will give Hawaii a run for it's money in the summertime. This time of year it's hell on earth. Fucking rain and more rain. Bring the spring! I wanna feel a big ass kokanee tap my line like a cheap whore then bring it home and grill it up on an alder plank while I polish off the second twelver of the day for fuck's sake! Tough shit if that doesn't make sense. I worked my ass of tonight and I'm drunk. Fuck y'all...

Ooh La La!

My oh my aren't we sophisticated? You look like the type of yuppie that knows his shit. You know your wine, your cheese, and you'd never be fooled by farm raised salmon would you? Except you fucking would! HA HA HA!
In the last decade or two, western Washington state enjoyed (and still enjoys) a massive influx of California yuppies who strangely decided to embark on a mass exodus from the Golden State to our humble shores. They brought with them their lovely yuppie culture that some of the more affluent north westerners decided to adopt. Therein lies the problem. Yuppieism just doesn't jive with the northwest lifestyle. Forget Microsoft. The true residents of Puget Sound are a bunch of hard drinkin' hard fishin' deer slayin' foul mouthed lumberjacks. Yuppie isn't in their blood. Yet they try. And the results are absolutely fucking laughable.
One of the things I require of my waitstaff is to act as a sort of bullshit filter between me and the dining room. They don't always succeed. Some dumbass wannabe yuppie stumps them and they pass their ingenious inquiry onto me.
This time of year it's always the same. "Is the salmon wild?" they ask me. It's fucking January you fucking dip shit! Coho salmon is a fucking threatened species and Chinook isn't far behind it. Sorry if I don't have a hook up with some rogue fish poacher (actually I do, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna share it with you!) but in the dead of winter there ain't no damn wild salmon from Washington waters that hasn't been in the freezer for fucking months! Do you see what I mean? Some yuppie jerkoff trying to show off their top shelf taste with that question has revealed their bottom tier intelligence. The funny thing is, you could tell them the salmon is wild and serve them some fucked up, farm raised, color added shit fish and they'd never even fucking know the difference. Trust me, I've done it. Those posh motherfuckers have never caught a fish in their lives, they don't know shit. Here's another one, "Are the clams local?"!!!!!!! Are you seriously fucking kidding me? Are the clams local? Fuck you and that stupid fucking question! If you are such a fucking connoisseur of shellfish you would know that WASHINGTON STATE IS THE LEADING SUPPLIER OF CLAMS IN THE UNITED STATES OF FUCKING AMERICA!!!!! You would have to leave this fucking hemisphere to avoid Washington clams you fucking ignorant twat! Of course they're fucking local! Eric Ripert is probably serving manila clams from Washington state right now in New York fucking city so fuck you! Fuck you and your dumb ass question that wasn't really a question but a lame attempt to show off your 'knowledge'. You suck and you don't know dick shit about food so stop trying to impress me. I already hate you, why are you trying to make it worse? Just shut up and eat you fake ass wannabe yuppie pieces of fucking shit! The chef hates you.

Fuck Vegetarians!

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