Chef Mojo

Happy Birthday, Laura!

I just want to send out a big ole Happy Birthday to a wonderful friend and colleague who has done so much for me over the years.

It's tough to come up a definition of what a friend is, but Laura is always there with bells and a healthy cynicism that compliments mine. She's a damn fine cook, all around good girl and mother and makes the best paprikash and dumplings around. She also is generous with her supply of tequila, which comes in very handy on occasion.

I know this will embarrass her greatly, but I don't care.

Happy Birthday, Laura, and may many, many more follow!

Politics?

Well, screw that shit.

I'm going to see if I can manage not to write a single word about politics from now until after election day, because, frankly, I don't have a dog in this race. There is not a single person left standing that deserves my vote, in either party.

I'll be voting. There's a slew of other things to vote for, but I'm withholding my vote for president until someone worthy of the position comes wandering around with a good argument.

And that's it on the politics for now. Let's see if I can resist...

UFOs Kidnapped Me...

How else to explain my absence from the aether?

A very long month of chaos, culminating in a mad dash to Savannah to cater Ray and Carleen's 50th wedding anniversary to the tune of 450 or so crab cakes. Jesus, was that crazy. That weekend was summed up by Diana's fiance Tommy stumbling into the kitchen of the American Legion Hall at Tybee Island, and saying, "Karl, you are one crazy f&%k!"

I could only reply, "Well, yeah, Tommy. Sorta sums up my weekend."

Needless to say, I need to blog. This is getting ridiculous. Especially considering that I'm the toast of Tybee Island for doing the best crab cakes anyone's ever had. This is becoming a running joke with me and mine. I make rockin' good crab cakes. Best anyone's ever had. Really. Lot's of drunk, little old ladies residing in Savannah and Tybee will testify to this. Best crab cakes evah...

And there you go. Not sure what happened. I woke up on a beach in Georgia with stars in my eyes and a soreness in my a... Ah. Well. I'll leave it at that for the moment.

More to follow, including the saga of Bubba and Miss Georgia Ann...

Happy Birthday To The Lady!

Well, it's Valentine's Day, and that's not a good thing. Or it is, depending on how you look at it.

In our household, Valentine's Day is something of a curse.

First off, I'm a chef, and Valentines is a sorry service to work. Busy as hell with frantic men taking out their women for a night on the town; something that approximates their somewhat skewed view of what romance consists of. So they take the girl out to dinner to a restaurant staffed with an incredibly stressed staff that would rather be fighting the Taliban than serving you food.

Think about that for a moment...

Second, this is The Lady's birthday, and we can't really go out to celebrate it, because of the above. And especially today. We've been on the road. That's right. The Lady, great sport that she is, has been on the road with me on her birthday to Savannah, Georgia. And it's not on vacation or anything like that. No, Chef Mojo had a major catering gig out on Tybee Island, and he needs The Lady to help him pick through 25 pounds or so of crab meat so he can do his job. 450 or so little crab cakes, along with shrimp, asparagus, stuffed tomatoes, tapenade and a cheese display for 150 well heeled Savannahians and Islanders. Jeez. I feel like I'm in the middle of a train wreck...

But all is not lost. Tomorrow, we'll take some time off and do it up right with a birthday dinner at Elizabeth on 37th, perhaps one of the best restaurants on the East Coast. We're going to take a taxi, eat like dukes and drink like kings and pretty much enjoy the hell out of ourselves.

So, thanks, sweetie. For everything. Love you lots.