Working as an assistant producer for a famous chef’s reality road show could have meant many things, but for Adam, it meant flexible hours, a quiet little office, and a near-constant stream of positivity.
He was in charge of managing the visits to the various mom-and-pop eateries his chef would be featuring on the show, and while he was sometimes jealous of Bess and Neil, who were always on the road trying out every hole-in-the-wall they could find, he believed what he was doing suited his temperament better. Plus, Bess and Neil had to eat a lot of garbage to find the diamonds in the rough, and Neil had gained at least twenty-five pounds in this past year with the show; Adam had cobbled together a standing desk so that his more stationary job would not start to affect him the same way. And then, out of necessity, no one knew who Bess and Neil were, so no one was particularly excited to hear from them.
Thursday afternoon was Adam’s favorite. Today he would call the chosen ones.
The show was heading to the Denver region in a month, and the lucky winners were a barbecue place in Lakewood, a bakery right in downtown, and then the outlier, a bar and grill that was closer to Boulder than Denver. Adam had been skeptical, but Bess insisted that the Hideaway would be the highlight of the episode. If possible, they should be there on a Friday night. The place was a local karaoke hot spot. Adam hated karaoke, but Bess was insistent.
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Adam,” she’d promised. “This place is so cool, Chef’ll need a parka. Doesn’t look like much from the outside, but the style is there. Je ne sais quoi and all that. Plus the owners are seriously camera-ready. The cook’s name is Nathaniel Weeks—so fine, let me tell you. I hate to admit to being unprofessional, but I did make a play. I got zero response. The waitress tipped me off that he was married. The good ones are always taken, right? But he’s got a hot brother, apparently. Plays bouncer for the bar at night. I may tag along with Chef for this one.”
She’d taken a bunch of pictures on her iPhone. As she’d mentioned, the outside was forgettable. It could have been anyplace in the West. Saloon-ish, dark wood, rustic. Most of the other photos were of plates of food that seemed to have too much style for such an unremarkable location. A few of the pictures must have been of the cook she liked so much—tall, full beard, thick curly hair. Adam didn’t think he was especially attractive, but what did he know? Lumberjacks could be Bess’s thing. A small woman with short dark hair was in a lot of the backgrounds, never facing the camera… maybe this was the chef’s wife. He had the names of all the owners off the alcohol license. Nathaniel Weeks was the chef, so Kenneth must be the bouncer brother, and Ellis the wife.
Adam had remained hesitant, but the Hideaway had gotten Neil’s enthusiastic thumbs-up as well. Best food he’d had in the past three seasons.
There were always a couple of backups—a coffee shop in Parker and a breakfast-only diner in Littleton were on this list—but Adam very rarely had to contact the backups. The show had a track record of boosting business by a healthy percentage for the first two months after an episode aired, with an ongoing lift for the rest of the year. There were even a bunch of groupie types who tried to follow Chef’s journey and eat at every place he featured. Chef was always complimentary, and the show regularly pulled in almost a million viewers every Sunday night. It was the world’s best advertisement, and it was free.
So Adam was prepared for the reaction at the Lakewood barbecue place, Whistle Pig. As soon as he said the name of the show, the owner was screaming. Adam thought he could even hear her feet pounding against the floor as she jumped up and down. It was like showing up at someone’s door with one of those huge Publishers Clearing House checks.
Once the owner had calmed down, Adam went through the usual spiel, getting the date on her calendar, giving her the contact info she would need, prepping her for the kinds of access the show would require, et cetera. All the while, she kept thanking Adam and occasionally shouting the good news to someone who’d just walked into the room.
Adam had made this same call over eight hundred times now, but it always left him grinning and feeling like Good Saint Nick.
The call with the bakery was similar, but instead of screaming, the head pastry chef had an infectious belly laugh that Adam couldn’t help but laugh along with. This call took longer than the first, but eventually Adam was able to compose himself, even if the local chef never did.
Adam had saved the Hideaway for last, knowing that a Friday-night karaoke event would be a little more complicated to arrange. Adam thought it might be too much of a departure for the show, but he supposed they could get some footage from both the dinner hour and the performances, then cut it together to see what would work.