Rocco DeSpirito and Anthony Bourdain

You remember him, right? He was that guy from the TV show. Restaurant tycoon Geoffrey Chadarow thought he had an instant celebrity in this guy. Chadarow made his fortune driving Braniff airlines into the ground before opening some of the best, and tastiest restaurants in the country. His China Grills seem to be in every major city including Mexico City while Asia De Cuba and Suko can be found in London. Point being, the man seems to know what he is doing. Most of us in the restaurant business have dreams of opening just one place that can rival a RumJungle or Kobe Club and here this guy has a veritable chain of trendy, hip, four and five star restaurants. He knows how to make a restaurant.

However, his plan to turn Rocco into a celebrity fell short. Sure, Rocco is charasmatic, sexy, and keeps his chef's coat buttoned a little low while flashing his pearly whites for the hordes of single twenty-something girls that flock to get a picture and a kiss. The one thing Chadarow did not count on was Rocco's ego. A line cook who made a name cooking other people's recipes and priding himself on the fact that he could plate it up nice, Rocco opened Rocco's 22 in New York City with Geoffrey's money. Seemed like a good match. Geoffrey's know-how and Rocco's cooking, good looks, and personality. Rocco however, is not and was not a chef. He was a cook who thought he knew more than he did. Rocco served his mother's meatballs and his Chef De Cuisine's entrees. The rest of the menu was put together using recipes from his former employers. Add to all of this that Rocco was never in the kitchen. Instead he flirted with the girls all night as his food was being served cold, late, overcooked, and over-seasoned. The opening night crowds dwindled, Chadarow got pissed, and now what was Rocco's 22 is now just 22. Rocco is no longer a part of it. As a matter of fact, I don't think the place exists anymore.

I tell you all of this because of a real chef that I have admired for a long time. I just recently heard of a book he wrote that is a New York Time's bestseller and very hard to find because, according to the lady at the bookstore, copies of the book are snatched up as soon as they hit the shelves. Anthony Bourdain came across his love for food innocently and naturally. On a trip to France his parents left him and his brother in the car as they enjoyed a dinner at La Pyramide. A place Bourdain describes as the center of the culinary universe. He was nine at the time but sensed that something was inside the restaurant that was important. Until that night he viewed food as a source of fuel. He realized then that food was much more than that. On that same trip he tasted his first raw oyster and it was over. He had to be a chef at that point. He made his bones in ways DeSpirito would turn his nose up at the thought. Bourdain washed dishes at the start. He dunked fries in hot grease after that. He did it all from saucier to line cook to sous chef. A real student of the art. A CIA graduate who has cooked on just about every continent. Rocco has his mama's meatballs that he did not even know how to make. He would get his poor mama out of bed at four in the morning to make those damned meatballs which Fran Drescher described as "nothing special". Those words would never be thought of at Bourdain's Brasserie Les Halles and unlike Rocco, there is no place Anthony would rather be than in his beloved kitchen sautéing the nightly special.

In an interview Bourdain was asked to name the most underrated chef. His answer? "The world is filled with them. It's a Chinese guy making dumplings for three dollars an hour somewhere. Somebody in Taipei right now, standing in a kitchen--the dumplings he is making, if they were served at the Plaza Athénée, people would swoon."

When asked the next question, the most overrated chef, his answer mirrored my thoughts. "The easy answer would be Rocco DeSpirito . . . You can sit around with a group of ten chefs. All of them hate him and what he represents. Then, some lone voice will say, 'Yeah, but can he cook?' And everybody at the table will say, 'Yeah, fuck yeah.'"

You do what you are good at and you do it the best you can. You use your knowledge and your love for something and you make it work. You become the best you can be at that one thing that makes you tick. This way you can go home with a sense of pride in knowing, even if no one else acknowledges, that you did something. If no one takes a notice or recognizes that you give your best day in and day out, you move on in hopes of finding someone that will reward your love of the game. There is nothing that irritates me and pisses me off more than someone who does not take pride in what they do. Is what I do the most glamourous thing in the world? No, but at least I don't half-ass it. One day, that will be what is noticed. That will be what gets me my restaurant. That will be what is rewarded. If not Amuse then somewhere else.

In tradition of being lazy... here is someone else's writings.

I have enough friends, I need sex
Written by Mike Zero
Thursday, 21 September 2006
Let me start by saying I’m a loser. I’m short, fat, balding, and aside from a vast collection of Star Gate DVD’s, I have nearly nothing to offer a member of the opposite sex.

My name is Mike, and I don’t want to be your friend.

I’ve been rejected more times than I can count. I’m no stranger to the, “I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back,” or the, “Eighty dollar, anything you want.” Wait forget that last part, the point is whether it’s a subtle brush off or being outright ignored I can handle rejection. What I can’t handle is a woman who wraps sex around a hook in the hopes of reeling in a new, “Friend.”

When a guy approaches a woman in a bar he’s not looking for a new pal to see Jackass 2. Too often his honest pursuit for physical companionship is met by a devious woman peddling the false hope of sex in exchange for a Corona. If he’s lucky he’ll get off paying for a drink or two and she’ll move on to pray upon another innocent guy. If he’s not so lucky he’ll get her phone number and begin the slow torture that is the intentional lead on.

When a man sees a woman across the bar and decides to approach her it’s not because he thinks she looks like a fun person with whom to watch a 7th Heaven marathon. Any woman who would flirt with him and accept a drink falls in one of two categories, retarded naive or deceptive manipulative bitch. Take your pick. If you meet a man in a bar, party, or social event, he’s not looking for a friend. Most men have few female friends, but most (If not all) of those friends fall into one of two categories.

Category 1: Required Contact (AKA “So I guess we’ll be sharing this cubicle”)

These are women that guys were required to spend some time around regardless of their personal desire. These women are co-workers, classmates, or the girlfriend or sister of a friend, etc.

Category 2: The missed shot (AKA “Why aren’t we fucking yet?”)

These are women guys were trying to screw and messed up. 99% of the time they’re still trying to figure some way to make it work, sometimes even years later. “Maybe if I help her move into her new apartment she’ll notice me.” Yea you and the other four guys helping out that are trying to bone her. Or my personal favorite, “Once they get divorced I am so in!” If you’re a woman who doesn’t think this is true ask any male friend you have who doesn’t fit into category 1 if he’ll have sex with you and bask in my glorious wisdom.

To make matters worse I think that many women know this. I approached a woman in a bar who spent the next three hour talking to me while drinking Apple Martini’s I bought for her. Just after last call was announced and she was finishing the last drink I bought for her she mentioned her boyfriend. She knew that if she mentioned having a boyfriend when I first approached her she wouldn’t have gotten the attention or the drinks.

By the age of 27 even I have several friends. I don’t need more but if I was to make more it wouldn’t be some woman I was trying to sleep with who tricked me into a friendship.