They Tried To Throw Me Out Of My Own Restaurant Until The Chef Stepped In

downtown.” A wave of the hand. Not dismissive so much as automatic, the way you swat a fly without checking if it is a butterfly. “It’s cute. She’s always been into the food thing.”

The food thing.

The same two words my father used when I was fourteen and holding a trophy nobody came to see me win. The same words that had followed me out of Summerville continue reading …