The Sugar Mama & Blockbuster Boy Toy.

One of the most bizarre situations I've ever cooked in.

Not the client’s actual home, but close to it.

My phone rang one afternoon, I answered it with a chipper, “Chef Shirlé speaking.” The person on the other end was a woman named Stella. She asked if this was the personal chef business that was recommended to her by her yoga instructor. I confirmed it was and asked her how I might help.

She said that she and her husband, Chad, were in need of healthy meals, mainly for Chad’s benefit. Chad, she explained, “Eats like a five year old. He only likes pizza and Hotpockets. I need to get him to eat more vegetables!” I asked where she lived and when I could come over to her house to do an interview and check out her kitchen. We set up a time for 3 days later.

When I pulled up the circular driveway to their mansion, I was impressed with the beautiful landscaping. Stella was waiting out front on the large veranda for me. I parked and got out in my chef whites with binder in hand. She was much older looking than she sounded on the phone. She had blond wavy hair done up in a conservative “Martha Stewart” style. She wore a flowing black blouse over capri slacks along with sandals. She graciously showed me inside, past the foyer and into the large vaulted ceiling living room. She asked me to sit on the couch next to her, but I asked if we could sit at the kitchen table. “Oh, the kitchen’s a bit of a mess right now. Chad has all his drinks all over the place.” she grimaced. I opted to sit in a large wing back chair next to the couch. She immediately asked me if I had ever had any “work done because your skin is beautiful” which threw me a bit. I politely replied, “No, I haven’t, but thank you”. She then said, “If you ever want some work done I have the guy for you! He’s ex-husband #3, but boy, he does great work! I wouldn’t look this young if it hadn’t been for marrying a plastic surgeon! Plus, I got this gorgeous home in the divorce. Win Win for me!”, she chuckled. I immediately thought that she was a little bit too open about her personal life, but smiled kindly at her.

Just then, a young man entered the room with a large red 7-11 Big Gulp cup in hand and a very large pitbull. I assumed this was her son, even though she had not mentioned having one. She said, “Oh, this is Chad. Chad, this is the Chef.” to which Chad stumbled to the brown lazy boy and plopped down, not saying a word. “Chef is going to start making us healthy meals Chad… isn’t that cool? We need to get more vegetables in our lives. This is gonna be fun!”, Stella exclaimed, sounding like a mother trying to force a 5 year old to like the idea of eating vegetables. “Yeah, *burp* I guess so.” Chad mumbled. I was trying not to look uncomfortable when the stench of liquor began permeating the room. Stella then said, “Can I get you a glass of wine?” It was 10:30 am, so obviously I was again dumbfounded that she was asking me if I wanted some wine at that hour. I politely replied no thank you. She then said that anytime was a good time for wine and that Chad only liked Rum. Now I understood why I was smelling alcohol so strongly as we talked.

I took out my client interview sheets and a pencil to begin the interview when Stella said, “Do you want to know how Chad and I met?”. Chad grunted making a “pshaw” sound while staring at the dog at his feet. “Sure” I said, actually curious now how this 60-something three-times-divorcee met up with 20-something rum-drinking slacker-dude. “I used to go to the video store up the street to get DVD’s and Chad was my video guy. He always took such good care of me and always picked out great movies. It was love at first sight!” This was not what I had expected, but then, why the hell not. Nothing seemed to be in the norm of what I was used to with meeting all my other clients. “Wow”, I stammered. Stella giggled like a schoolgirl.

We started the interview (finally) with me asking what they liked and didn’t like. Chad, of course, only grumbled a few answers as Stella kept speaking for him. “Chad only likes Pizza, Hotpockets, as I told you before, and the only vegetables he likes is peas and carrots, you know, the frozen mix kind.“ I asked her what she liked and luckily she was open to all cuisines and most vegetables. She said they needed to start eating more healthy and that Chad needed to be exposed to new cuisines. I knew in my heart that he was going to hate this service. We set a date for me to begin and then I asked her to show me around the kitchen.

The kitchen was separated by a half wall to the living room, meaning, that if I was at the kitchen counter area where the stove was located I would be able to see directly into the living room, and vise versa. It was as Stella had mentioned, 2 liter bottles of Coke, empty bottles of Rum, Cuervo and Jack Daniels scattered all over the kitchen table, piles of old pizza boxes stacked on the floor next to the trash can, dirty plates with pizza crusts in the sink and empty bottle of wine filling in the gaps in between. Stella said, that they normally didn’t have this much mess going on but, Chad had a few buddies over the other night. I told her that when I come to cook for them that I needed the counters cleaned off, the sink empty and the kitchen table decluttered. She agreed and said she would make sure all would be good to go. She then asked me if I wanted to stay to hang out with them for the day. I lied and told her that I had “another client interview to do right after theirs”, and left feeling like they were going to be very extremely strange clients.

I arrived the following week at 9am to begin cooking for them. When I pulled up in the driveway I saw two men in gym clothes, with gym bags in hand, leaving the house, both getting into separate cars. Stella was on the porch again. “Hello Chef!” she said as I opened my trunk to get the groceries out. She called for Chad to come help me. I told her I was fine but she insisted on having him help me. Once in the kitchen, she told me that they had just hired two personal trainers to get them both into shape. I was again shocked when I saw Chad pouring a huge Big Gulp cup filled with Rum and Coke as if it was the most normal thing to do after a workout. He went into the living room where he plopped down on the Lazy Boy, with dog at his feet, and began drinking, staring at the wall in silence. Stella already had a drink on the coffee table in the living room , but I wasn’t sure what it was. They both sat there, not speaking to each other, in a silent room. I put in my earbuds and tuned into NPR while I began the cook for them. I was there for over 3 hours and in that entire time I witnessed very little movement from them and much drinking. Stella had switched to wine an hour after I arrived, popping into the kitchen to grab a glass and a bottle, no apologies or excuses why. Chad came in numerous times to refill. They lived in silence with neither the TV on or speaking to each other. Stella laid on the couch and read mostly. The atmosphere was uncomfortable for me to say the least.

The next week, I sent Stella a new menu. She replied back stating that she had loved all the meals, but Chad wasn’t really participating in the dinners with her. Pizza delivery was still his jam, but she wanted to continue. She asked me to “dumb down” my dishes. “Can you make him macaroni and cheese, maybe?” Yes, I could. “Could you make him Broccoli and Cheese? I think he would eat broccoli if it had cheese in it.” Sure, I could easily do that. “Could you make him pizza? I think it would be healthier if you made it instead of Papa Johns.” I said that it wouldn’t be as good as getting it freshly made. She agreed.

The next cook date was similar to the first with them sitting and drinking in silence while I cooked for them. At the end of the second cook, Stella said she wanted to give me a $500 cash bonus for all my hard work. I told her that was certainly not necessary, but she insisted, handing me five crisp one hundred dollar bills. She also wanted me to see their work out room. I followed her down stairs to a small room with free weights, a bench and a couple of balance balls. She told me I could work out here if I wanted to. I was seriously questioning her motives and started to get a very uneasy feeling. I told her that I appreciated her offer, but had a gym that I already went to. She then told me that she would hire her personal trainer for my own sessions, at her house, if I wanted. Again, I told her thank you but no thanks. I was getting more creeped out by the second in her presence.

The next week, as the week before, I sent her a new menu. She gave me the OK and I showed up at 9am again, Chad helping lug in the groceries. This time, when I was about to put away the meals I had just cooked, I noticed that there were still so many meals in their fridge and some still in their freezer. Barely any of the meals I had made the previous week had been eaten. I asked Stella to come into the kitchen asking her what she would like to do about the lack of storage space for these new meals. She told me to leave the new ones on the counter, that she would put those away. As I was packing up to leave, she came into the kitchen and handed me four hundred dollars. Yet another tip she thought I should have. When I tried to decline the money she got flustered slurring under her breath that wreaked of wine, and said I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. I felt forced to accept it and I left feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Later that night I received a rambling email from Stella about how she thought it rude of me that I “expected to be tipped out” and how she felt “I didn’t appreciate them enough” and that she was going to discontinue the service. She would NOT be recommending me to her friends either. At first I was confused and felt utterly horrible, but then realized that she was probably drunk emailing me, on some sort of bender, and that I had done nothing wrong. I simply replied back,

I’m sorry that you wish to discontinue the service, but I understand.

All the best,

Your chef, Shirlé

About two months later, I received an email from Stella asking me if I could come back. I sent her a reply stating that I was “fully booked and couldn’t get them in the schedule.” Never, ever, would I step foot in that house again.

Until next week, Thanks for following along on this journey! If you enjoy Secrets and Spice please make sure you subscribe to get each weeks story emailed directly to you.

Oh, and please share these stories to those you think might enjoy the read.

Shirlé

**All names, places and occupations have been changed to protect the identity of all clients.

This Weeks Paid Supporters:

A very special shout out to the following paid subscribers:

Robinlee Garber, Chef Lynn Warlick Wells, Jake Brokaw and Miyuki Furtado and Spanky Wilson!

-Robinlee is a childhood friend and all around renaissance woman, living and playing music in Chicago.

-Chef Lynn is a fellow Personal Chef buddy and owner of Thyme Well Spent, Personal Chef Service, based out of Greensboro NC. When not cooking for clients or food styling for cookbooks, she can be found hobnobbing with tastemakers and culinary shakers all over the country.

-Jake and his wife Brigitte have long been huge supporters of my cooking and are also huge supporters of the arts in Baltimore, Maryland. Jake also has an Orthopedic practice I have had to use a few times.

-Miyuki has been a lifelong friend and bandmate of mine from days long past. He’s also one of the best fathers and husbands I know and has raised one of the coolest kids, his daughter Mino alomg with his sweet wife Tricia. Miyuki currently plays music in his Alt-Country band, Divining Rod. You can listen to Divining Rod out on all music platforms. (Chef Lynn, I think you would LOVE his music!)

-Spanky has been a huge supporter of my cooking from my NC days. When not fire fighting you might find Spanky hiking the Appalachian trail.

Thank you all sooo much for supporting me in this endeavor. I am truly grateful for you.

Secrets and Spice - A Personal Chef's Memoir is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber

As a free subscriber, you will receive a weekly story in your inbox. If you however would like to support this endeavor by becoming a paid subscriber you will get to participate in a number of unique ways. You will have the ability:

1. To have a personal Q&A session with me about that weeks story.

2. To get tips and tricks regarding cooking from me. Maybe even some recipes.

3. For serious chefs considering this line of work, you will be able to ask questions concerning your own Personal Chef service, or how you might go about starting a PC service.

4. And lastly, you will get a shout-out letting folks know you support my writing, and have my undying gratitude!

   Why subscribe as a paid subscriber?…well, as Holly Whitaker states on her blog, Recovery, “This is one of my jobs, and I put a lot of work into it. I believe in an ethos of paying people for their work (especially in recovery spaces, where work is undervalued and, therefore, resources are limited). If you love this newsletter, get value out of it, and believe in paying people for their work, consider a paid subscription.”

   I feel the same as an artist (and a veteran, always underpaid, musician), that this is one of my jobs. A calling, even. So, if you value the work I am doing here please consider a paid subscription. And Thank You!