Published

I know I have been MIA and I know that you all are sick of me promising it will stop and then it not stopping. I am learning an important lesson...it is hard to be a chef and a blogger.

But, I wanted to share some pretty awesome news here. I am being published in a local magazine! The article is on chefs who cook with cast iron at home. And yours truly is going to be featured along with two other chefs in the article. This means several things...one of them being that my picture is going to be in a magazine and we all know that is making me ridiculously uncomfortable. 

It also means my name being out there. In a magazine that has showcased some of the best chefs in our city. The new restaurant will be listed in my credentials. I got the in because C's wife, who we will call K because that just makes sense, is the one writing the article. BUT she legitimately interviewed me and legitimately let me google things on my phone during the interview because I wasn't sure if there were things you COULDN'T cook in cast iron. Are there? The internet failed me. 

Tomorrow a photographer is showing up at my house (!!) and taking my picture (!!) in street clothes (!!) to publish in the magazine. (!!!!) I will probably throw up tomorrow. OK, maybe not. But, maybe.

I am wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans and flip flops. Because that is what I would wear any other day of the week and that just seems right and makes me comfortable. 

I will think I look fat in the photo no matter what I wear, so I might as well feel comfortable, right?  And, yes, I know that is ridiculous, but it is true. 

I will also have to put on make up? and do my hair? on my day off? 

I seriously want to do a line up sometime of me and 4 homeless people and see if complete strangers can tell the difference. 

And I just started thinking about this photo and all the things it means and feel my brain trying to have a panic attack and then feeling the other part of my brain saying "NOBODY IS GOING TO DIE BECAUSE THIS PICTURE ISN'T PERFECT." 

No doubt I am already on the list for the line up of neurotic people who would rather be hiding in a closet.