1.  Marco Pierre White

Might as well start off crazy.  I love me some crazy.  He’s Italian and British and considered the original celebrity chef.  He’s the youngest Chef ever to recieve 3 Michelin stars who promptly gave them up.  Badass.

2. Jamie Oliver

He gardens.  He has 2 daughters named after flowers.  His show was the best show I have EVER seen on the Food Network.  And he reminds me of my chef.  What’s not to heart?

3.  Jean-Christophe Novelli

He’s a chef conglomerate.  From cookery school to TV shows this man has he hands in everything.  And he’s French.  And super sexy.  Mmmm.

4.  Marcus Samuelsson

AT 24 he received a three star review from NYT.  He’s a 2 time James Beard award winner, a professor in Sweden, a restaurateur, and a very successful cook book author.  All before his 40th birthday.

5.  Michael Symon

He’s one of my best friends.  His heart is made of gold and his food is filled with delish.  His laugh inspires happiness and his wife is hot.  He’s on Twitter.  Plus he sends me silly text messages when I’m feeling blue.  Or red.

6.  Mathieu Palombino

He owns one of the hottest pizza joints in NYC and is married to one of the coolest chicks I’ve never met.  He’s a dad.  Mario Batalli thinks his pizza is the cat’s pajamas.  And he’s from my homeland.  Viva L’Italia!

7.  Gabrielle Hamilton

She owns Prune (restaurant where the Chef took me for our first date in NYC) and my husband is madly in love with her.  Any gal that’s good enough for him is good enough for me.

8.  Anthony Mangieri

A tattoo’d pizza maker.  Be still my heart.  Anthony sold his joint, Una Pizza Napoletanato (one of my fave’s when I was a New Yorker) to the above mentioned Matthieu Palombino in search of a less stressful life on the west coast. Dreamy… a laid back tattoo’d pizza maker.  What more could a girl ask for?

9.  Hung Huynh

I don’t watch Top Chef.  I catch snippets when the Chef is watching it however it’s not my cup of tea.  I did like the season with Hung. His passion prevailed and the way he can break down a chicken…oh man…H-O-T.

10.  Jonathon Sawyer

Umm.  Duh.  He’s tattoo’d, he likes the Earth, his kids have sweet names and his wife is the raddest chick in Cleveland.  Heh heh.

As I was compiling this list I realized that someone I had forever had a crush on is uh not exactly as I remember him.  Apparently I may have had a few to many glasses of Rose the night I met him.  Boom Outta Here!

I included some of my all time favorite chef crushes and even found some knew ones.  Who might you have a culinary crush on?

Before the chef was the Chef and I was the Widow, we were two kids in high school who would make out.

He was my boyfriend for the most part and we spent the majority of our time in and out of school, together. During the week I would sneak over to his mom’s house (oops) late-night and we would stay up listening to music in his bedroom until we fell in a deep slumber.

I loved falling asleep to music. It was so ethereal, so romantic. Last night as I lay in bed listening to an ice storm, I found myself thinking about those days when music could soothe us to sleep. I slept better then.

Last night, I turned the music back on and fell asleep.

Four years ago today my family was introduced to the wonderful world of heroin. Yay! My brother came high to Thanksgiving dinner to tell us he was flying to Florida because he needed some time to chill.  It was awful and unfortunately, we didn’t even know the half of it.  The long sordid tale of hurt, heartbreak, and addiction began today 4 years ago.  My fondness for Thanksgiving left just as my brother did.

There was a time that Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday.  I have countless memories of amazing meals made by my grandma and late nights hanging out with my cousins. The night before Thanksgiving was my favorite night of the year, thanks in part to the Strongsville Cafe.    I would meet up with my girls, drink vodka until I thought pool hopping was a good idea, and head home nice and hungry for the next day’s feast.  Those days are long gone and I have absolutely no desire to drink till stupidity but I do miss the feeling of joy that Thanksgiving gave me.   Today as I reflect on my many wonderful Thanksgiving’s, I find myself drifting to my memories of my Italian Thanksgiving.

I lived in Italy when I was 21.  I shared an apartment with 2 Italian girls and went to school at American University (with Americans).  We formed a tight group and when Thanksgiving rolled around we all wanted to celebrate.  The problem was that Italy doesn’t do Thanksgiving.  Nor do the people eat turkey.  Or green bean casserole.

The school set up a delivery of turkey’s to the local supermarket and my friend Ry and I set out on foot to pick our bird up.  We arrived and met our dinner.  He had a head…and feathers.  He was also 40 lbs.  Ry carried him back to the apartment (almost 2 miles) and being the sissy pants that I am, I delegated the plucking and the decapitation to him.  In the meantime I began my mad search for the ingredients to make green bean casserole, my favorite t-give dish.

I found myself back at the grocery store searching for Campbell’s mushroom soup.  They didn’t have it.  SHOCKER.  I decided that I would make it from scratch.  I trudged across town to my school, got on the interwebs, and printed a recipe.  I headed back to the store to buy the soup ingredients and realized I hadn’t bought fried onions.  Guess what?   Italian supermarkets don’t have fried onions.  I decided again to go from scratch.  I would buy onions and eggs and flour and deep fry them myself.  For a girl that had never really cooked before I was apparently feeling quite adventurous.  That or I was extremely high.

Ry dazzles me with his basting skills on the stove that will soon be aflame

My walk back to the apartment was rough, but I kept my eye on the prize.  Ry had finished de-feathering and de-heading the bird so we stuffed her good with a ghetto made stuffing (think bread crumbs and eggs), put her in the oven, and moved on to the green bean casserole.  The first step of making the soup was easy.  Granted it was no Campbell’s but we made do.  Second step…not so easy.  A novice cook should NEVER attempt a deep fry.  It never ends well.

In our case the pan caught on fire which then set the stove on fire.

My girl Sonja, shows off her fire prowess

Needless to say we did not partake in green bean casserole, my roommates never talked to me again, and the smell of fire extinguisher smelled in the apartment until I moved out 6 months later.

Thanksgiving feast, Italiano style

We did however end up with a beautiful turkey which was shared in a feast of food and wine with friends.

The aftermath of the turkey and wine extravaganza

Happy Thanksgiving bitches.

Don’t do drugs.

The mini’s went to the March of Dimes Signature Chef’s Auction last night and were beyond well behaved.  C-Money helped his dad hand out olive oil cake, while Biggie and I hit the auction tables.  We even got to go on stage and accept the Honorary Chef award.  Catcher had his moment when he got behind the mike and said to the crowd ‘thank you.’  Congrats to the March of Dimes for raising over 100K for babies born prematurely!

Don’t forget bitches.  My LOCAL HOLIDAY Challenge is still in full effect.  Shop local and win some kick ass Cleveland gifts!

Your response to the Blog It Forward Happy Hour benefit for Anissa Mayhew is PHENOMENAL.  We have had so many people asking how they can help.  The human spirit is so absolutely beautiful and I am so proud that so many people in our city are eager to help someone out they have never met.  Cheers Cheers Cheers.  Can’t wait to meet you!

Turns into a mushroom expedition