Let’s get some shit straight: the “Favorite Chef” competition is not what it looks like. It’s not a celebration of talent. It’s not a chance for hardworking chefs to rise. It’s not even a real contest in the traditional sense. It’s a cleverly disguised, pay-to-win fundraiser — allegedly — with a cash prize dangled in front of chefs and home cooks like a corporate carrot on a stick.

It’s my birthday today, and I’ve been feeling a strange mix of pride and anger—thinking about where I am, where I’ve been, and how the hell I got here. I constantly compare myself to who I used to be. Not in a nostalgic, “better days” kind of way—but in a what-the-fuck-happened kind of way.

I’ve talked about the weight of time before. That heavy, creeping feeling that shows up when the world gets quiet and your brain starts doing donuts. You think about where you’ve been, who you are now, and how the hell it all went by so fast. Gratitude meets panic. You’re thankful to still be here—also kind of pissed that this is what “making it” looks like.

What I’ve learned from growing up with an executive chef for a dad, being immersed in the industry myself, and from the cooks, dishwashers, servers, and bartenders I’ve worked alongside—there is always someone on staff with a creative side hustle.

As I hit my Blackberry Kush pen a little too hard, I realize I might be repeating myself, but fuck it—someone out there is thinking the same thing. I’ve got a few hours before I have to pick up my kid from school, and this is what’s been on my mind.

I quit drinking, but addiction doesn’t clock out just because you do. You start pulling at one thread, and before you know it, you’re looking at the whole tapestry of your life unraveling. That’s where I’m at. Because it turns out, booze wasn’t the only thing keeping me chained to something outside myself.

Everyone who’s worked in a restaurant in any capacity can say that, definitively, food allergies and restrictions can be frustrating. The precautions necessary to ensure the “CLEAN CUT” on the order is adhered to add precious minutes to ticket times for the back of house.

Time is a strange thing. It moves too fast, then too slow, and sometimes it feels like it isn’t moving at all. Back when I was drinking, time didn’t matter much to me. It was just there, blurry and meaningless, something to fill up with booze and bad decisions.

Anger gets a bad rap. We’re told to calm down, let it go, or pretend it’s not there. But what if anger isn’t the enemy? What if it’s the fuel that keeps you moving forward? Kendrick Lamar understands this better than most. He doesn’t just sit with his anger—he turns it into something sharp and powerful.

…No time to think, no time to worry, no time for the mind to race. Just cook. Just fucking go. For someone like me, whose mind is constantly running, that’s a kind of peace you can’t put a price on…

The holidays are a wild ride when you work in the restaurant industry. It’s all high-stakes dinner rushes, endless holiday parties, and the constant hustle of keeping things moving. But for many of us, the season also means…

At Dinner Rush, we’re working to build something special—something created by and for the hardworking people in the restaurant and bar industry. This isn’t just about clothing; it’s about creating a community, a voice, and a support system for hospitality workers. To bring this vision to life, we’ve launched a GoFundMe campaign.

Growing up in East Cleveland, I’ve spent most of my life feeling like I was in the wrong room, piecing together my identity from all the places I’ve been and the people who’ve influenced me. I was a kid who didn’t quite fit the mold.

On June 23, 2022, FX on Hulu premiered a new original series titled The Bear, and by the second week of July, it was the second-most watched series across all streaming platforms. The premise was intriguing enough; a hot-shot chef is forced back to his hometown in Chicagoland to run his family’s italian beef shop in the wake of tragedy, and decides to flout all traditions of the current workplace culture, molding the place to be exactly what he wants within 10 minutes of arriving.

Food was never meant to be a symbol of social superiority. It’s survival. It’s creativity. It’s the common thread that connects us all, cutting across every social and cultural boundary, uniting people from all walks of life.

You did it! You opened your restaurant/bar concept, built a stunning social media presence, hired a capable staff, and made it through your first year as a small business owner!! We are so proud of you!

The truth is ugly: the government will never ban the neon-orange, fake-cheese bullshit that we shovel into our faces every day because doing so would decimate the economy faster than a junkie in withdrawal.

Let’s talk about food waste—the dirty little secret that everyone in the hospitality industry knows but rarely wants to admit. We're not just talking about the occasional spoiled lettuce or that half a loaf of stale bread.

Blake Larson, Chef and Co-owner of Flock Dining in West Union Ohio, is a culinary force with a journey as diverse as the dishes served.

Tipping in America’s dining and drinking culture is as American as a greasy diner burger at 3 a.m., but is it a symbol of gratitude or just another cog in the machine of inequality? Let’s tear this open and see what bleeds out.