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After “How do I become a chef?” the question I get asked most often is “Should I go to cooking school?” The short answer: maybe. The longer, more complicated answer: maybe, kind of?

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“Your opinion is vague and irritating.”

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One thing I get asked a lot is how to become a chef, so I figured that I’d save everyone (and me!) time by putting my advice up here for the world to see. It all boils down to one word: don’t.

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It never ends well.

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If that doesn’t discourage you, then here’s my advice on what you need to do. This isn’t the only way, and it’s maybe not the best way, but I don’t know any other way. Like most people who own restaurants, I have tunnel vision and can only imagine doing things the way I did it.

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(Update: as of Tuesday, November 6, Dirt Candy has re-opened! Seriously. We’re open. You can eat here! People have been confused, so be confused no longer!)

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I’m in the middle of re-opening Dirt Candy and so far the biggest problem (besides having to remake everything from scratch, all at once) is that my internet service is out. Verizon told me, “We don’t know why it’s out, we don’t know when it will be back, and it may never be back.” As you might imagine, these are not the words I wanted to hear. The biggest thing I need internet access for are Open Table reservations. To their credit, Open Table is being really great about this (a huge improvement over my last interaction with them) but for now, if you want a reservation (or need to cancel a reservation, or change a reservation) please call the restaurant (212-228-7732). I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, but just imagine: it’s only a single phone call for you, but I’ll be answering the phone all day long.

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Then there’s storage. Dirt Candy has off-site storage over on Avenue D, right in the middle of the flood zone. My storage unit: in the basement. This is what it looks like.

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My husband was over there yesterday and today digging it out, and what really sucks is that insurance doesn’t cover this loss. The policy I had through the storage place doesn’t cover water damage, and the coverage I have through my home owner’s policy doesn’t cover this particular location for flooding (because it’s in a flood plain). This was all news to me!

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Want to buy a Dirt Candy Cookbook: Special Superstorm Sandy Edition?

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The store is still open, and we’re still selling stuff, but we have no more men’s t-shirts (unless you’d like to buy a wet, mildewy one saturated in heating oil and raw sewage) and I won’t be able to ship any book orders until this weekend. I’ll keep you posted on developments.

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Swanky sparkles! That’s what it’s like every morning when I get out of bed at 8am. And when I drop my tired ass back into bed at around 1am, leaving a trail of filthy clothes scattered behind me across my apartment floor, I feel like a real celebrity. If you’re an actual working chef in your kitchen, the kind who’s running the line every night, there is no chance you’ll get a big head or become arrogant. Life keeps reminding you that you have the filthiest job on the planet. And you’d better learn to love that filth or you’re in the wrong business.

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Tres chic! Cleaning a clogged grease trap.
Don’t worry, it smells worse than it looks.

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Oo la la! Is someone in their storage space hunting through
months of past credit card receipts because a customer
called asking for a hard copy of it for their records? Oui.

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Yesterday, an Open Table guy came to Dirt Candy and installed a new Open Table system, so we’re back up and running. Initially, I was told that the new system would be Fedexed to me, and would “probably” arrive on Monday. I asked if someone would install it, since I remember when it was first installed it took the guy from Open Table hours to set it up.

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“There’s going to be a set of instructions in the box,” the customer service rep told me.

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I was extremely glad that a person came to do it because, well, even a trained Open Table service tech had to spend 3 hours to get it up and running. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have done it myself, no matter how great those instructions were.

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Last night, my Open Table reservation system died. The CPU and screen in the restaurant just crashed and refused to restart. I called Open Table and they’re shipping me a new one…Monday? Probably Monday, but they won’t guarantee it.

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On top of that, here’s the message you get when you go to the Open Table system, since I can’t accept reservations via Open Table until they replace their crashed system:

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“Please accept our apologies on behalf of Dirt Candy. Online reservations are not available on this date at this restaurant.”

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I asked them to PLEASE put up a message that said, “The Open Table system for Dirt Candy is down. Please contact the restaurant directly if you’d like to make a reservation.” I was told that was impossible because – and this is my favorite part – Open Table does not want to encourage anything but online reservations. I pointed out to them that this was temporary and that it was only because their system had failed. Too bad, I was told. Open Table does not want to encourage anything but online reservations.

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So…if you want to cancel a reservation at Dirt Candy for tonight, please contact the restaurant directly by phone (212-228-7732). If you’ve got a pre-existing reservation for tonight, you’re good! But otherwise we have to do walk-ins. Thanks!

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Now that Dirt Candy has a cookbook and probably a Happy Meals deal in the works (Dirt Candy matchbox cars, here I come!) I figured I needed to be all patented and trademarked. It took a while (and cost a lot) but it’s worth it because now I can go after all those knock-off, pirated Dirt Candy restaurants overseas! If there are any, which I’m not sure about, but there might be.

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Yesterday I got my official US Government Trademark registration papers:

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Look at that shiny gold star!
The US Patents Office understands the
upsell!

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See how it shines?

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I know that a lot of people wish Dirt Candy took more walk-ins and I know that it’s frustrating when you come down here and the restaurant is full and I can’t seat you, but that’s no reason to just barge into Dirt Candy and seat yourself. And I wish someone would tell this to the squirrels, because on Friday night, that’s exactly what one of them did.

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“Squirrel, party of one.
Coming through.”

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Last October, this graffiti appeared on the front of Dirt Candy. Fortunately, my cold weather vestibule went up a few days later and covered it, thus saving me from having to actually do anything about it. The vestibule just came down over the weekend (the first sign of Spring!) and the mysterious graffiti was revealed again.

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What is it? What does it mean? It’s not the Lost numbers. Is it a code? Am I being dragged into a conspiracy against my will? Have I been slated for destruction by extraterrestrials using a number language only they understand? Could it have been the winning Mega Millions lotto numbers?

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What is it, internet hive mind?

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I’ve described Dirt Candy before as my child. My big, angry child. Who wants to kill me. So when you imagine Dirt Candy, realize that it’s not so much like this:

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But more like this:

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Last week, however, Dirt Candy was acting more like this:

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I had my first Saturday outside the restaurant I’ve had since Dirt Candy opened 3 years ago, and it turned into a battle of wills that almost saw me dead. Read on for the terrifying tale.

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