The Cook-and-Tell Chef

摘要

He is imposingly tall, and lanky, towering over his crew of Mexican and South American cooks even without the white toque he disdains as effete and prone to catch fire. His hands are strong and his fingers exceptionally long, splayed and knobby-jointed. What you don't see, at first, are the calluses and scars, the little missing pieces that more than a quarter century of working with knives and red-hot sizzle platters and bubbling vats of molten fat got sliced or burned away and never quite grew back—possibly because instead of seeing a doctor, he just covered the wound with towels and kept on working. Nor do you see the toll taken by 25 years of 14-hour days or the drugs he took to get through the days or the drugs he took to unwind when the days finally ended at 11 or midnight. And the feet. Don't even ask about the feet.