I'm not a culinary school grad. "Chef" isn't technically my title. I don't know the difference between a haricot vert and a green bean. My only real tool is a chef's knife gifted to me by my mentor Mateo Mackbee. Other than that, I've got two callused, burnt, and sliced up hands--two hands to cook, eat, and write with.

​

Too many "foodies" look past the kitchen and into a fantastical world where a chef's story is glorified and food is a glamorous art. Here's a reality check. Your food is actually made by sweaty line cooks who smoke each other's weed, burn each other with sauté pans and shock their eyes with four shots of espresso each time they clock in. I'm tired of food critics who feel entitled to judge someone's cooking without ever having stepped into a kitchen. I'm tired of CIA graduates who ramble on about French pronunciations but when it's time to scrub the floor, they step right outside. People who really know food are those who touch it.

​

Thanks for checking us out,

George Vedder IV​

​

​