Our publisher, one of the greatest men I have ever met, was swiftly sent to revitalize the company's floundering digital department. He was the type of guy who knew everyone's name. From the company CEO to the midnight cleaning crew. Everyone loved him. But, before he could announce his resignation, his replacement, aka the Devil wears Talbots, stormed into the conference room and announced to the staff that, "You are all losers. This magazine has not been profitable in years. I'm used to being a winner. And, I need an 'A' team. Are you ready to join winners? Oh, and there will be lay-offs... also your old publisher is on speaker phone." My stomach sank. Scared, forlorn faces filled the room. The shit had officially hit the fan.
Culinary school was a lot of fun. (which, I'll delve into a little deeper in later posts.) During that time, I staged in several of Manhattan's hottest restaurants (Marea, Annisa, Le Bernardin, Eleven Madison Park) and finally worked as an Entremetier at Dovetail, a Michelin-star winning restaurant. Although, working under Chef John Fraser, Thomas Keller's protege, was a great experience. It still wasn't enough. At the end of the day, I still thought of myself as a writer. (A writer with severe writer's block.)