I Can't Feel My Face

Hey Folks

      I woke up this morning and "I Couldn't Feel My Face"; no not cocaine dreams I really couldn't feel my face. I often self diagnose my self and I came to the conclusion it's the butane flames at my job. I am the "Executive Chef" of 

The (Mercer) Kitchen NYC. It may sound peachy but really I call it "A 4 Star Quality Control". My position consists of basically watching each an every dish that leaves my kitchen and the cooks whom prepare them (Garde manger, tounant chef and pastry chef) basically I taste everything, check the temperature of meats and produce. It's a lot of pressure because it is a 4 star restaurant & above is a 4 star hotel so every thing must be perfect.  Classically I'm trained in French/Italian cuisine with Tuscan Influences and at the ripe age of 22 I've won both the Chef de Tournant and Japan's Misono Award for knife my knife skills.

The most interesting aspects of my career are my guest's; mostly celebrities and celebutant (aspiring celebrities), My kitchen is in the heart of Soho across the street from the late great Keith Ledger's revered apartment; my guests often include names as: Courtney Love, Calvin Klein, Marc Jacobs, Steve-O (jackass, the coolest S.O.B. alive), Dave Mirra, Ron Jeremy, Nigel Barker, Kimora Lee Simmons etc... yup yup and I ain't lyin.