The Greatest Critic

The greatest admirer of my creations in the kitchen these days is an Austrian speaking vicar with a penchant for Baroque music and a pair of thoughtful whiskers. He may have found us by act of pseudo kidnapping and a rollicking trip in the back of Jake Friedman’s girlfriend’s car. He may have moved from the bright lights of Brooklyn, to the salty Riverside abode, to the farther north of Hartford, but one thing that hasn’t changed is his unflinching preference for kitchen-observing. This is Oscar’s table.


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