09/04/2026
My name is Chef B, and I have absolutely no business being left unsupervised around a flat-top.
I’ve spent 12+ years in restaurants, which means I’ve developed the ability to identify a sauce by smell, hear a fryer from 300 feet away, and become irrationally angry when someone puts a knife in the dishwasher.
I went to culinary school because apparently normal career choices weren’t chaotic enough.
I make smash burgers like they owe me money. I make sauces out of whatever happens to be within arm’s reach. I’ve looked at a refrigerator containing three poblanos, half a bottle of mayo, and something labeled “DO NOT USE” and thought:
“Dinner.”
I’m currently building a food brand, dreaming about a food truck, creating recipes, designing logos, making videos, inventing menu items, and occasionally wondering if I should probably have been doing something productive instead.
I have multiple dogs, which means my house is essentially a furry daycare where someone is always carrying a stick, stealing food, or staring at me like I’ve committed a federal offense.
I’m a Chicago Bears fan, so apparently I also enjoy emotional damage recreationally.
My hobbies include cooking, eating, overthinking menu names, making things unnecessarily complicated, arguing that bacon belongs on it, and saying “I can make that” immediately before creating a problem that takes six hours to clean up.
I don’t measure garlic.
I don’t trust people who dislike ranch.
I consider “a little bit” to be a legitimate unit of measurement.
I have never seen an ingredient and thought, “That’s enough.”
I see an empty space on a burger and think “sauce.”
I see an empty menu slot and think “limited-time special.”
My culinary philosophy is simple:
🔥 Fire.
🌶️ Flavor.
💀 Whatever the f**k happens next.
I’m not saying I’m the guy who would deep-fry a salad…
…but I’m also not saying I wouldn’t.
I am Chef B.
I have a recipe.
I probably changed it.
There is no backup plan.
There is, however, bacon.