Chef's Widow

HAS MOVED! CHECK OUT THE NEW DIGS AT WWW.CHEFSWIDOW.COM.

That's right bitches I've moved up in the blogger world. New address. New server. My very own dot com. Fanfuckingtastic!

Viva La Revolución!

The High of Hiking

I am so sorry for lack of posts this week but between trying to get the new restaurant's website up & running, Biggie Smalls teething, & Catcher's lack of sleeping in his own bed I am one tired widow.

Yesterday we managed to get the hell outta dodge and go hiking in Brecksville Park. A place close to my heart & my relationship with the chef. We used to 'hike' in Brecksville Park when we dated in high school. And when I say 'hike' I mean smoke weed and talk about upcoming indie flicks. Yep, we were those guys.

No longer are we those guys. But we still act like it. Somehow we managed to get the entire family lost in the woods. We eventually had to climb up this big ass hill & walk up the road to our car. Chef's Widow should know better. The chef couldn't find his way out if there was a gps system ingrained in his palm (his actual palm not his phone).

Who knew the Mushrooms were Magic?

Chef's Widow
ca. 1997


Laugh amongst yourselves.

Moving Day Coming Soon

Blogger sux. I have decided to move over to typepad. Currently I am trying to figure out how the hell to use typepad and transfer my blogger address to my new domain name: http://www.chefswidow.com. Hopefully this will be up and running by the end of the week. Until then here is some vintage vids of CatcherCrazyFace @ the Farmer's Market in Peninsula:

On the cover of the Rolling Stone

not the cover of a Rollin' Stone...but it'll do!



Well we're big rock singers
We got golden fingers
And we're loved everywhere we go
We sing about beauty and we sing about truth
At ten thousand dollars a show
We take all kinda pills
That give us all kinda thrills
But the thrill we've never known
Is the thrill that'll getcha
When you get your picture
On the cover of the Rollin' Stone

Wanna see my picture on the cover
Wanna buy five copies for my mother
Wanna see my smilin' face
On the cover the cover of the Rollin' Stone

I got a freaky old lady
Name a Cocaine Katie
Who embroideries on my jeans
I got my poor ol' grey haired Daddy
Drivin' my limousine
Now it's all designed
To blow our minds
But our minds won't really be blown
Like the blow that'll getcha
When you get your picture
On the cover of the Rollin' Stone

Wanna see my pictures on the cover
Wanna buy five copies for my mother
Wanna see my smiling face
On the cover the cover of the Rollin' Stone

We gotta lotta little teenage blue-eyed groupies
Who'll do anythin g we say
We got a genuine Indian guru
Who's teachin' us a better way
We got all the friends that money can buy
So we ne ver have to be alone
And we keep gettin' richer, but we can't get our picture
On the cover of the Rollin' Stone

Wanna see my picture on the cover
Wanna buy five copies for my mother
Wanna s e e my smilin' face
On the cover of the Rollin' Stone
On the cover of the Rollin' Stone
Gonna see my picture on the cover
Gonna buy five copies for my mother
Gonna see my smiling face
On the cover of the Rol lin' Stone

Come join my famous ass at TONIGHT at Bar Cento's Rock'n'Roll Wine Project tonight:
Rock out to Dr. Hook on Vinyl.
Drink badass wines from Down Under.
And most important...hang out with me!

The Weight of a Woman

The chef & I have a guilty pleasure.

America's Next Top Model

Somehow we got hooked and now we faithfully watch on TIVO any chance we get.
It's horrible.
It's self indulgent.
It's discriminatory towards women.
And Tyra is probably the most self indulgent human being on the planet.

But we watch it. And we love it.

Until now.


Tonight we spent the evening in, drinking some fantabulous Pinot Noir and watching ANTM (and Top Chef, but that's another post).

The gist of the episode was that the models go on a go see. A go see (for those of us who don't model &/or do cocaine) is a meeting with a designer to see if the model is right for them. The girls try on clothes and walk the imaginary runway.

It's hardcore and very deep.


This season there is a plus size model. She's a size 6. Her name is Whitney and everyone at ALL of the go see's said she was too FAT.


I almost died. Bitch is hot.


It has been a long while since I have been a size six and I am ok with it. I was never smaller than a six. I always had the boobs that ruined the illusion of skinny. I was always voluptuous.

Whitney, the plus size model on ANTM is definitely WAY smaller than I am. I absolutely could not believe that these designers were dissing her because of her size.

How is it that in today's time we can still skulk at women who are not a size four? Or a size two? Or the bullshit size zero? Women's bodies are not made to be bones. They were made to produce children. Whether you want kids or not, the anatomy and physiology of our bodies proves that fact. We have boobs. We have hips. We have ass. Our hips expand and contract. We get cellulite. Our thighs are bigger than most dudes that we sleep with.

How have we not gotten past the idea that a beautiful women is all bones and no meat??????

Women are amazing. And beautiful. They inspire men to write epic poems about them. They inspire breathtaking art. They inspire beautiful and amazing music.

But yet we want them to be diseased. We want them to puke. We want them to eat bullshit diet pills.

It is SO SO SO amazingly fucked up.

I have issues with my weight. I always have.

Even when I weighed 113 lbs in 12th grade, I thought I was a fattie.
In college I gained some weight. When I moved to Italy I gained some WEIGHT.
When I got back to the states I realized that I had gained a few. + 20. I puked my way down.

After that I knew that I was fucked up. I never did it again.


Two kids later, an apron, & an extra 20 lbs, I am ok with body.
Granted I am trying to lose a few lbs....

BUT...I am happy with my shape.
I will never have a body like Nicole Richie. And I don't want to.

I have boobs. I have a booty (wish I had more). I am a Renaissance woman.

And the women were beautiful. And I am beautiful. And Whitney is beautiful. And Tyra Banks can go fuck herself. Because if it comes down to it and she needed a job, girl could only get hired for PLUS SIZE.

And she is beautiful.

I know, I know

I'm an asshole. And I'm not prego. Just a little something something in celebration of the fool. Gotta keep the chef on his toes you know?

Ooops...we did it again!

Unfuckingbelievable.

Remember this post?


Well apparently it didn't work.

I have been feeling kinda crazy for the past few weeks and thought something might be up. But I never thought this.

Looks like our foursome just turned into a fivesome.

Overheard in Strongsville

Anybody read that blog Overheard in NYC? If you haven't you should especially if you live or have lived in NYC.

Now that the chef & I have moved back to the 'burbs in the Midwest, I have decided to start my own Overheard series. Actually it will probably just be this ONE post because I try not to hang out in Strongsville to often.

Why?
Because people still wear white jeans here and I don't talk to people who wear white jeans.


The chef & I snuck out to a place called The Pub. It's a bit fancy pants. Their wine is WAY up charged and their food is ok. I had a glass of Penfolds for $13. Apparently it was NYC prices night...

There were these two women chillaxin' at the bar. Probably in their late 30's or early 40's. One of them has a mean southern drawl. When I say mean, I mean FAKE.

When we walk into the bar the women check out the chef (he's got tattoos), and look me up and down. Not obviously at all.

They were chattin' with the bartender who was the same age. There were two tv's that were showing My Dad is Smarter than your Dad, something I hope the rest of the world can watch so they know how smart us Americans really are. Pysch.

The chef and I are watching this garbage and quietly (as quiet as you can w/ the chef) making fun of the show. These ladies overheard us and loudly asked the bartender to change their channel:

Lady #1 (in a mean southern drawl) : "Can you change the channel puhhhhleasse?"

Bartender: "Sure, what would you like me to put on?"

Lady #1: (in a mean southern drawl): "I think Dancing with the Stars is on."

Lady #2: "Oh isn't that Adam Corrolla guy on that?

Bartender: "So this is good?" {putting on DWTS}

Lady #1: (in a mean southern drawl): "Whatever. I don't watch TV."

Lady # 1: (in a mean southern drawl): "I only watch sports."