Confessions of a Dinner Parade Chef
Ever tried cooking for a crowd that expects fireworks on their plates? Welcome to my life as the unofficial ringleader of the nightly dinner parade. Every evening, my kitchen turns into a chaotic stage—pots clanging, spices flying, and me, desperately trying to keep my cool while plating something Instagram-worthy.
Last night, my attempt at fusion tacos ended with my cousin asking if I’d invented a new food group (he meant it as a compliment, I think). There’s always someone who wants more salt, less garlic, or a vegan version that still tastes like steak. I’m not a pro chef, but I’ve mastered the art of smiling while my culinary experiments crash and burn.
Honestly, the best part isn’t the applause (or the polite nods). It’s the shared chaos, the laughter, and the stories that spill out between bites. Dinner isn’t just about food—it’s the nightly parade where everyone gets a front-row seat.
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