Chef Cosentino...

I was very lucky to be allowed to create a few shirts for someone I admire. That's pretty much where my art has come down to, no more art shows or vendor shows, now I just make things for people I like and admire. It's not entirely bad, but I sure wish I could have made millions!

Anyway, shocked that Cosentino was into lowbrow, I took a shot in hell and asked if I could make him one. He said hell yeah, and it was on. That Twitter, it's a magical thing, who knew? After our schedules doing opposite things, we finally got a chance to connect and set a date for me to drop the shirts off at Incanto. Me lad said his assistant would probably be on the receiving end of the shirts and I wouldn't so much get a whiff of Cosentino's armpit. It sounded like a pretty typical setup for a busy celebrity.

On a intensely warm Wednesday, I hopped off the J-line and walked a few blocks towards Incanto's side delivery door. When I told one of the workers I was there to deliver shirts to Chef Cosentino, he bolted towards another entry way and 2 seconds later I was staring into Cosentino's face...shocked and almost speechless. He snapped me out of it when he said, "How much do I owe you?" And I responded with an almost hostile, "What? No! What are you talking about? Nothing, you owe me nothing but to try the damn things on and see if they fit." Why is it, when I'm nervous, I start to carry the mannerisms of a pirate? Need help on that.

Sous Chef and Pastry Chef.


As he tried them on sporadically, bolting around the restaurant with lightning energy, attending to chefs and solicitors, I did my best to be myself. Ok, maybe myself with a little bit more charm. He spoke to me as if I were a long time friend, letting me in on inside jokes, laughing at my lame jokes and complimenting my shirts. He liked them and that is what makes me want to keep creating the damn shirts. He offered me coffee, which is a good thing because it helped him realize no one had ordered coffee beans for the restaurant. Whoops. "It wouldn't be a day at Incanto if we didn't forget something" he said. Instead, he took me across the street to buy me an espresso. In the neighborhood coffee shop he said hello to almost everyone, casually chatted and was just the most fucking down to earth dude.

Basically, he's awesome.

After talking shop with me and telling me about his son, it was time for me to go. He's a busy man with a restaurant to run, you know? And I'm off to Portland tomorrow. But, before I walked out he tossed me one of his own shirts and asked if I'd paint on that. "You mean, paint one of your own shirts? And then coming back and giving it to you?"

Not only do I have one of his personal shirts (which I sniffed), I also have an excuse to return into the warm lair that is Cosentino and his restaurant.

Fucking sweet!