A Splash of Humor and a Dash of Asshole

Chef’s Wives

Are you married to a chef, or thinking about dating one? Do you understand your role as a chef’s wife? Let me go ahead and lay it all out there for you.

1. Do not complain about the hours we work. The more that you whine and bitch about the long days and absent nights, the longer we want to stay at work. We will find extra shit to do before we leave to buy a few extra minutes of peace before going home and listening to your bullshit. Another thing, if we say we will be home at 1 and we walk in the door at 2, please don’t ask why we are late. We were busy.

2. Do not call the restaurant to talk to us unless it is an absolute emergency. Emergencies are limited to someone being dead, almost dead or something being on fire. The worst thing you could do would be to call the kitchen to ask what time we are going to be home. This actually happened to me a long time ago and the kitchen phone was subsequently thrown at the wall and broken. Trying to reach us on our cell phone is also unacceptable. Having your man pick up his cell phone on the line is putting his life in extreme danger. He will be either verbally or physically abused and you will be to blame. The one exception to this rule is a simple text message letting us know that you can’t wait until we get home so that you can blow us. Any call or text of a sexual nature is always accepted and greatly encouraged. You can be our “sexual sous” anytime.

3. Do not expect us to come home and cook you a tasting menu. When we cook at home we don’t want the same pressure we have at work. It’s like asking a stripper to give you a lap dance when she gets home, it’s just not happening. Another thing, please don’t try to make us five-star meals at home. We want you to cook us the stuff that we know and love. We would much rather have you make us a casserole or your famous beef stew, than try to make some sorry ass attempt at coq au vin. Stick to what you know, it’s called comfort food for a reason.

4. Please do not tell us how shitty we look or how bad we smell when we walk through the door after a long shift. You think we don’t know our hair is messed up and we smell like crap. The combination of fryer grease, sweat, raw garlic and fish residue will never be the new Drakkar Noir. Trust me, we know that. How bout you throw those clothes in the laundry and bring me a cold beer while I take a shower.

5. Don’t touch our knives or tools. Get your own set, and only use those. My wife couldn’t even tell you what my knives look at, and that’s the way it should be.

If you can live with these things, then go ahead and marry that chef. If not, go to your local bank and find your new man there. He will pull those long 9 to 5 shifts and come home in his shirt and tie every night. He will probably be stoked on that shitty chicken recipe you jacked from Rachel Ray too.

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12 responses

  1. Ok, dear husband.

    April 26, 2011 at 4:14 am

  2. Sarah Diamond

    I’ve always liked the smell of fryer grease, sweat and garlic on my men 🙂

    April 26, 2011 at 4:27 pm

  3. hannah

    you are a conceited asshole

    December 12, 2011 at 2:49 am

    • Why am I a conceited asshole? I would appreciate an explanation.

      December 12, 2011 at 3:12 am

  4. Lindsey

    OMG I THINK I LOVE YOU. hahahaha

    I just stumbled upon this looking for “Pin-Up Chefs” and read this little piece.

    No one has uttered more true words. I’ve worked in many restaurants (FOH) and i’m DYING laughing right now. Being a Chef’s wife would be a huge responsibility. I dated a Chef for 2 years…all though, I was lucky, and worked most of the same shifts as him. “Sexual Sous” almost made me spit out my coffee. AWESOME.

    Any woman with a Chef needs to appreciate being COOKED FOR. I can’t tell you the last time I had someone cook for ME. Spending hours in a commercial kitchen isn’t for the faint of heart.

    Oh, and fuck Rachel Ray. She needs to stick to the dog food.

    February 20, 2012 at 8:12 pm

    • Thank you so much, I appreciate your comment. It is awesome to have a female appreciate what I write. You are awesome!

      February 23, 2012 at 2:44 am

  5. ha ha… our “role”, huh? Thank you for this ENLIGHTENING piece. Excited to share it with the hundreds of other chef wives I know.

    September 12, 2012 at 3:26 pm

  6. Angie in SF

    I really wish I’d done my research — A quick easy read like this would have saved me tons of time and frustration!
    Thanks for taking the time to spell it out. You speak truth! I loved dating a chef and hated being married to one.

    September 12, 2012 at 4:09 pm

  7. Pingback: One Chef’s Rebuttal | dinnerbyjr

  8. Since you apparently need it broken down, you’re a conceited asshole for the following reasons:

    1. Going to culinary school and getting a job doesn’t give you the right to be a dick to anyone, especially a spouse
    2. Though you probably know cooking, you’re apparently a dipshit otherwise, and, as such, should stick to cooking advice
    3. Based on what you wrote, there doesn’t seem to be a point to even having a spouse. Living by these rules, you’re not sharing anything with them or growing with them, so why even get married?
    4. In summary, your list of rules boils down to, “Everything I do is more important than what you do, so don’t touch my shit and stay out of my way.” The only proper response to this is, “Fuck you.”
    5. You sound like every other self-important foodie asshole on the Internet. You’re a nobody. Realize that.
    6. Because fuck you.

    September 26, 2012 at 9:01 pm

    • shannon

      Hey Charles: for someone who “puts God above everyone else,” you’re not coming across as very Christian. Calling someone “dipshit” “asshole” “dick” and saying “Fuck you?” hmmmm. not so nice…

      September 27, 2012 at 4:03 pm

  9. t

    When you come home, please leave your stinky fish scale clothing in the available trash bag and grab the cold underwear hanging on the door, that is of course after hosing yourself off. And furthermore what happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen correct? Same rules go for the home. And you wonder where our son got his blue eyes. (This is of course in response to the chef masses, not you singularly… lol) good read, thanks for the tears running down my cheeks from laughing. 🙂

    September 27, 2012 at 10:03 pm

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