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discussing.
“Not bad.”
My mother’s recipe. My hands. My restaurant. Three years of four a.m. payroll panic and burned forearms and a menu I had rewritten forty-one times until the dish was exactly what I needed it to be.
Not bad.
On the back of our menu, the part nobody reads, there is a small line of text. Black on cream. Easy to miss. Chef Elise Carter,continue reading …
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