What is it about chefs that make me go weak at the knees? Is it their crisp, starchy white jackets, the tattoos, the confidence they exude as they strut through their kitchens or the way they can slice an onion? A chef’s hands are battle scarred but precise and watching a chef brunoise a carrot is like foreplay.
Chefs are warriors. They command their kitchens during the battle of service. They solve problems in a wink of an eye. They’re bad boys who drink whiskey to relax and their potty mouths can be shocking to those who are not used to the heat and pressure of working in a kitchen.
They are generous, always ready to cook you a meal and share a glass of wine. Although they can be moody, egotistical and demanding their passion for their craft is contagious. They are flirty and suggestive; open to making out in the walk-in and drinking with you until early in the morning. Sigh. Some of my best memories involve hanging out after hours in a kitchen with a chef, drinking moscato d’asti, sitting on the kitchen counters, making hamburgers and eating truffle honey. Cheers to all you sexy chefs!