Sunday, June 14, 2015

the chef under the bridge in Perdido Key

He cooks for me.

And I say me, though he has no idea who I am and neither should he. He's cooking for everyone, and it would be a sin to deny anyone that type of pleasure.

But yeah, it's personal when I eat in his restaurant. The most money I spend in one huge chunk is on this experience. Those who go with me agree. We love him, and we know he loves us with blackberry barbecue sauce and gouda grits and a crawfish linguine and huge shrimp and that one night he created a teepee in the middle of that plate.

It was Valentine's Day. Fresh tuna and crisp wontons with a sweet maybe mango drizzle, and I had to half it but I'd rather just eat the whole thing for dinner once a week.


Dear Chef,

I am a fan.

Love,
me



P.S. Slater, the self proclaimed world sauce with a doctorate in barbecue tasting expert, hurt himself on the blackberry stuff. Never thought I'd see the day something like that would happen.







No comments: