One of the great things about my job is that by spreading my culinary philosophy, my aesthetic and my vision through osmosis, not to mention my recipes, my art achieves a certain immortality. I can only assume that when one of my sous chefs goes on to achieve greatness, he or she brings a part of me as well. I may turn up on a plate in California, or Argentina, or Guam.

Another great thing is that my staff looks to me as they would their fathers, for guidance, approval, allowance. Once in a while, if a sous chef has earned my trust, I might consider letting him attempt to create an actual menu item. Three weeks ago, I gave Ted just that opportunity. Ted, I said, go ahead and come up with a fish dish for the menu. He was delighted and thanked me accordingly with flowers and a kitten. Then he set to work. 

After three weeks of self-imposed exile, Ted, beaming with pride, finally emerged with his idea. That’s it above. Striped bass with steamed spinach. Three weeks. Three paid weeks. Oh Ted, it warms my heart to see how much you’ve learned.