I'm a fortunate guy.
I have a great wife who loves me, a daughter who is terrific and a son who is awesome.
I have done the same job for over twenty years, cooking and taking care of my customers.
I'm told I'm lucky to do something that I love and that I'm good at.
The summer after high school graduation my buddies all got jobs at a hot local restaurant, California Cafe in Old town Los Gatos, our home town. I bussed tables for a short time and then asked Chef Dean if I could work in the kitchen. He snickered, "Sure pw, come in on Saturday at 6:00 am."
Saturday morning I hoped on my mountain bike and rode into work, winded and on time. The back door was locked, no one answered.
6:50, chef Dean pulled up in his car and got out, expressionless.
He pulled his keys from his fadded checkered pants and put them into the lock, he didn't look up.
"How long have you been standing here?" he asked.
"Since 6:00 am Chef."
"Good. Come on in."
I swear he was laughing under his breath as he walked ahead into the dark kitchen.
The veal stock filled my nostrils and I have been home ever since.
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